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darlingdekarios · 4 months

Text

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.

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep x tav #haarlep x reader #raphael smut #bg3 smut #raphael fanfic

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seraphimaa · 1 month

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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.

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scuttlingcrab · 14 days

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Fiendish Rewards

Summary: Raphael appears at Withers' party, hoping to finally collect the Crown of Karsus from Tav. However, an unexpected turn of events causes Raphael to re-think his plans.

Notes: Featuring growing tensions and light angst. I always wondered what would happen when Raphael wore the Crown for the first time. This might be a wee bit too long but I initially intended this to be another submission for @dmagedgoods Raphael romance collection.

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

(Image via raphael-ancunin)

Raphael knew he was intruding. He had no business attending Withers' party, yet he arrived fashionably late all the same. He would never show his face, grace the companions with his presence, merely to exchange pleasantries. As tempting as their tadpole-free souls were, the simple minded mortals had no meaning to him now that the Elder Brain was defeated. That evening Raphael’s only desire was to collect the Crown of Karsus. And perhaps, converse with that little mouse, if time allowed.

Thus, the Devil did what he knew best: lurked from the shadows of the wings and listened for his cue.

Raphael had abided for over a millennium after he lost the Crown to Mephistopheles, lashing out with such violent anger in the first century that he nearly eradicated an entire plane. That initial taste of defeat never left his memory; the bitterness, that rotting feeling he felt deep within his core still haunted him. It was his first introduction to failure and the last.

He eventually learned how to forge that frothing hatred for his father, his revulsion at the cursed cards he had been dealt with, into a far more superior weapon: knowledge, his greatest strength. Raphael researched, manipulated, and opened up the recesses of his mind to devour the ins-and-outs of the Hells. He painstakingly plotted, weaving his schemes into the very fabric of fate itself, planting the seeds of prosperity for what he hoped would eventually gain him a win.

Despite all Raphael had endured since the collapse of Netheril, the last 6 months had been the most excruciating. Waiting. Watching. Hoping. There was no longer an Archdevil in his path, but a mere mortal. His hunger for power grew rampant as he watched Tav continue to elude him, to harbour the final piece of his victory as she tried to reclaim what was left of her old life. That selfish creature.

To Tav’s credit, she had been quite remarkable on the battlefield, showcasing her strength and resolve as she smited enemies and climbed through the carnage to her destiny. She left a sea of corpses in her wake, the mortal rubble alone was unlike anything Raphael had ever seen. Out of all the calamities he had been fortunate enough to craft and witness, being a spectator during the fight against the Netherbrain would forever be a highlight.

When the Crown fell into the River Chionthar, Raphael eagerly watched as Tav spent weeks fishing it out, taking her precious time as she retrieved each broken piece of his future. He restlessly stormed the halls of his domain, cursing the woman for attempting such an arduous task alone. He could have aided her, sent in Korrilla as a last resort, but he refused. He would not give Tav the satisfaction, she would have to work just a little more to complete her end of the bargain. Besides, there was something endearing about watching Tav work so diligently, the determination in those eyes reminded Raphael of himself.

The little mouse was Raphael’s greatest investment and he’d be damned if she failed him now, or if he let his sudden affinity for her overtake his true purpose. Raphael’s ambitions for the Crown had somehow intertwined with his infatuation for the woman, and he was just as much to blame.

He had let this farce go on for long enough. Raphael would not stoop so low in his final moments before he rose to glory. Once Tav crowned him, these foolish emotions would cease and he would continue with his grand plan. He was a Devil and he would not let these cursed mortal emotions falter his intentions any longer; he would never allow anything, anyone, to destroy his work. Raphael’s blood, sweat, and tears would not be in vain.

Cheering suddenly came from the camp as Tav and her companions raised their chalices in celebration. Withers' speech had finally ended, much to Raphael’s delight. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could’ve listened to the monotonous dribble. The monologue was indeed rousing, but Raphael could’ve done better, if given the opportunity.

One by one, the group of heroes slowly disbanded, until only Tav remained. She made her way around the camp, stopping by each empty tent. It was as if the little mouse was paying her respects, bidding farewell to the ghosts of her past.

When Tav was done she wandered to the lakefront and sat down on a mossy rock, staring into the sparkling evening sky. The light in her own eyes vanished, leaving a dark cloud looming above her.

Raphael took that as his signal. He quietly removed himself from the cover of the treeline and began his entrance, approaching Tav with a swagger.

“If it isn’t the hero of Baldur’s Gate. My, how far we’ve come! It feels like only yesterday you fell from the skies, tadpole and all, and began your little adventure; slowly scurrying your way to triumph.”

Tav smiled at the sound of Raphael’s voice, turning to greet him. They locked eyes, her expression brightening. That look pierced through Raphael’s defences with such ease, a slight chill crawling up from the base of his spine. He stopped in his tracks, quickly recovering by placing a hand on his hip. It had been too long since they were alone, when he had last gazed into those cursed eyes. Careful now.

“Raphael, always the poet.”

“The little mouse is no longer, but now a ferocious lion. Congratulations are in order.”

Raphael gifted Tav with his most flourishing bow, hoping the gesture would distract from his earlier misstep.

“Now do tell, how does it feel to be the victor? To have saved the world? Is it as the bards have sung?” Raphael rose, taking another step towards Tav.

Tav merely shrugged, her lips quickly returning to a frown.

“Dunno.”

“I would have thought a hero to be more eloquent.”

“I'm still waiting for that ‘ah-ha!’ moment, but if we’re being honest tonight, I’m not really sure what it means to be a hero.”

“You will come to understand eventually. It’s the very nature of your existence.”

Tav remained silent, pulling her eyes away from Raphael. She stared down at her hands, studying her scarred palms.

“May I?” Raphael inquired, gesturing towards the available space on the rock.

Tav nodded and Raphael sat himself beside her, intentionally leaving a minimal amount of space between them.

“You have something that belongs to me.”

“There it is,” Tav said, through a faint laugh, “You know, I was expecting you to come sooner.”

“I’ve often found the best persuasions are the ones that aren't forced.”

Tav looked up at Raphael, her eyes moving over every inch of his guise, stopping briefly near his lips. He was close now, so close. To the Crown. To his objectives. And to that damned woman.

“May I see the Crown, please?”

Tav smiled, moving towards Raphael. For a split second, Raphael expected a kiss. It was only natural for mortals to attempt such a distraction in times of distress. Infuriating as it was, he wouldn’t have been opposed to such a notion. Tav instead reached down for her backpack lying in the sand, placing it on her lap.

She pulled open the straps and yanked out the Crown, handling it as if it was but a petty trinket. Raphael suppressed a sigh, he would not let the significance of this moment be soiled due to the mortal’s lack of formality.

“I managed to reforge it, to the best of my abilities, thanks to the Annals of Karsus. Though I haven't tried it on yet to see if it worked.”

“A wise choice.”

Tav held the Crown out towards Raphael, but he raised his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the Crown floated out of Tav’s grasp, slowly moving towards him. It was just as beautiful as he remembered, if not more so. It glistened under the moonlight, calling to him. Soon. Very soon. He let the Crown hover, spinning delicately, for a few more seconds.

“Do you need me to remind you of our terms? The deal was that you are to crown me. I would’ve come to you long ago if I could simply put it on myself.”

“Gods. Really, Raphael?”

“Truly.” Raphael donned his notorious smirk in response.

“Fine, are we to do this here then?”

“I couldn't think of a more fitting location.”

Raphael rose, walking towards the middle of the lakefront. He snapped his fingers, and a luscious red silk pillow appeared. He shifted it slightly in the sand and bent a knee, preparing himself for the crowning.

“Come, it is time.”

Tav stood intending to grab the Crown, but before she could reach it, Raphael beckoned it towards him. Tav quickly followed, positioning herself above Raphael. He raised his head to gaze at the magnificent sight in front of him. The moonlight framed Tav perfectly, she was silhouetted against the dark sky, glowing. The Crown and the little mouse, side-by-side, as it was always destined to be.

Raphael took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He absorbed the scents and sounds around him; earthy tones, a hint of wetness, mixed with the fresh woodland air. Faint chirping from various insects called out to him, the leaves rustled slightly against the warm summer wind. His heartbeat intensified, growing more rapid, adding an extra drum beat to the night’s symphony.

“Let’s get on with it then.” Tav spoke.

Raphael opened his eyes and watched Tav grab the Crown, lowering it on top of his head.

When the Crown touched his forehead, it reformed itself to accommodate his size, shrinking to provide a snugger fit. It hissed into place and then in an instant, everything changed.

Pain, pleasure, fear, anger, confusion; every possible emotion tore through his very being. He was ripped in two, three, four… millions of tiny little pieces. His head throbbed with information, so many secrets, so much… he saw and felt everything, what could’ve been, what might come to pass… it was too much. Too much! Too fast!

He fell forwards, his hands digging, ripping through sand. He was alone, always alone, darkness surrounded him. No. There was light, light flooded in from the top of his skull, projecting into every possible direction. He was the light. He was the dark. He was all-encompassing.

Raphael screamed, his voice echoing into the abyss around him. He had never read about such a reaction, in all his years of researching, how could he have missed… could it be because… NO. He will tame this. He will persist. He will…

The sand beneath Raphael turned to liquid as the newfound power continued to surge through his limbs, burning his veins. He tore at his own flesh and bones to rid himself of the agony, but it wouldn’t come to an end.

“Raphael!” He heard a voice shout, such a familiar tune. But who? He couldn’t quite place it.

Raphael erupted, his devilish wings tearing through the skin in his back. There were flames all around him, growing hotter, thicker. His chest melted, his ears ached from the thunderous explosions. Whispers, whispers everywhere. He heard so many, and the cries, the screams. Would they never cease?

Something tore at his head, pulling the Crown away from him. The Crown. NO! He cannot lose it again. Raphael raised his hands attempting to fight back, but he was grasping at nothing. It was over as fast as it had begun. There was now silence.

Raphael’s vision cleared. He was on his back, looking up at the stars. Tav stood over him, holding the Crown in her hands. She eyed him with concern, tears flooding down her cheeks. He raised his own hands, his claws trembling. Raphael tried to think but his mind was vacant, every thought achingly bounced back. His skin burned, bones ached. There were deep lacerations all over his body, his own hands were covered in blood. He gasped, looking at Tav’s body but found no abrasions. He let out a disgruntled sigh. If he had harmed her in his rage, in those brief seconds of failure… would he ever forgive himself?

Tav threw the Crown aside and helped Raphael to his feet. His eyes followed the artefact as it landed on top of the sand, taunting him still. How?

As if reading Raphael’s mind, Withers' voice cut through the silence as he appeared before them.

“Thou hast succeeded but are not yet ready. Take care that thou are not too hasty, thine pursuits will lead to plights.” There was a long pause as Withers continued staring at Raphael, looking straight through him. He met Withers’ expressionless gaze, waiting for him to continue. “The pattern has been woven and all circumstances interlaced are as fate decided.”

Raphael never imagined the consequences of his premature investiture. He was always going to reforge the Crown himself, in his own image. How could he possibly trust a mortal to handle such a relic successfully? But in the heat of the moment, and in the fine print of the very deal he crafted, he had opened himself up to carelessness, becoming the very thing he despised.

His eyes darted to Tav, searching the woman for any excuse against his actions but he could only look at her with veneration. He would not blame her for everything. His vanity, eagerness… his obsession for the Crown and that cursed woman nearly brought him to his untimely demise. Let this be a lesson to Raphael to heed his own warnings. The Devil would need to cool his heels in preparation for the battles looming ahead.

Raphael turned to face Withers, but the curious being had vanished. Instead he hummed thoughtfully, looking at Tav.

She stood next to him, her body trembling. Tav's eyes were fixed on Raphael, still full of worry but there was something else present, another emotion he thought he’d never see from a mortal again.

Tav’s expression sent a sudden stabbing pain through his chest as a wave of nostalgia washed over him. There was another mortal who had once looked at him with the same kindness and understanding. He had buried it deep within his subconscious, but it was rising back to the surface, like a blooming flower. He would NOT allow himself anymore turmoil this evening.

“I owe you my thanks.” Raphael whispered, his voice on the verge of cracking.

“Raphael, I don’t understand, you were nea…”

“If you value your life, you will hold your tongue. There will be no talk of this moment again. Ever. Have I made myself clear?”

Tav’s eyes widened at his sudden change of tone, but she nodded nonetheless.

“I must return to my House of Hope. For healing and reflection. There is work yet to be done, as you have borne witness to this evening.” Raphael snapped his fingers, a raging portal materialised behind him. “You may join me, if you so wish.”

Raphael extended his arm, welcoming her acceptance.

“Would you consider our deal completed then?” Tav asked, apprehensively.

“You have upheld your end of the agreement, exceptionally well, might I add, bar this evening's hiccup. Now please, let me show you my appreciation.”

A dash of colour appeared on Tav’s cheeks as she wiped away the remaining tears. She grabbed her backpack, placing the Crown inside. She swiftly reached for Raphael’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Raphael nodded in acknowledgment and led Tav through the portal.

Indeed, their deal was complete, but Raphael wasn’t done with Tav yet. She would continue to prove a valuable ally and more in the months to come.

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thecampjuicebox · 6 months

Text

Feeding the Raph stans today. Enjoy ~

The Deal

Pairing: Tav(f) x Raphael

POV: 2nd person (Reader being Tav)

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: SMUT, fingering, overstimulation, spitting, biting, Dom Raph x Sub Tav, bondage, slapping, piv intercourse, GAME SPOILERS - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

You wipe the sweat from your brow and scan the room carefully, the Orphic Hammer weighing heavy on your back. This heist was no small feat, and boy, are you feeling it. Stealing from Raphael was incredibly stupid, and you're sure you'll feel his wrath soon enough, whenever the devil decides to return home. As long as you make it out of the House of Hope, you'll have your back-up. You sigh and shake your head, kicking yourself for telling your team to stay back at the Devil's Fee just in case things in the city went south. In reality, you're the one in real danger. Raphael is not the devil to mess with, surely. You shimmy into the darkness of the hall and make your way towards the portal back to the Lower City. Just a few more steps.

You pant quietly from the heat and swipe the tiny beads of sweat forming on your upper lip now, wiping your hand off on your leathers. "Gods, I can't wait to get out of this.. Hell hole." The final door lies ahead of you. Tall. Daunting. Anything or anyone, could be behind it. You gulp and brace for the worst, reaching for the handle. Giving the door a gentle tug, you crack it just enough to peak inside, spotting the empty portal room. "Fuck yes." Little steps take you towards the portal and you stop. The portal disintegrates to ash before your eyes, leaving nothing but a dusty pile on the lavish marble floor. Time seems to slow around you, the air thickening in your lungs and you gasp for air. Raphael is coming. Hot flames swirl around you and the devil appears, eyebrows knitted together in an expression of pure rage.

"You."

Your heart pounds audibly in your chest and you freeze, eyes fixed on Raphael.

"There are many things I despise from your world. Kittens, the laughter of children, the chaos of it all. Here, in my HOUSE, there is order. There is decorum. You came here uninvited, and you stole from me. You brought the chaos of YOUR world into mine. I will NOT abide it."

His words burn hot like molten metal, searing your ears. You chew your bottom lip for a moment and choose your next words carefully, hands coming to rest on your hips now. A sudden bout of confidence overcomes you and you quirk an eyebrow up at the devil, crossing your arms over your chest, leaning your weight onto one foot. A devilish smirk curves the corner of your lips upward.

"Your house in in complete disarray, Raphael. It was entirely too easy for me to slip past your guards."

Raphael takes a step closer to you, eyes burning like the fires of the very hells surrounding you. You gulp, staring up at him as he towers over you. Confidence gone, you consider running. Your fingers tremble and you pray that Raphael would take pity on you. But you dug your grave. Now you'll have to lie in it.

"You would have been a hero, had you only dealt fairly with me. Instead, you're not so different from the doomed Karsus. Steady over-reaching your limits and burning your world to ash. Your skull will make a fine trophy. Any last words? It will only take a moment to finish you."

You grit your teeth at his words and shake your head, firmly standing your ground against him now. He won't win this. He can't. His expression remains the same. Seething. Ready to tear your limbs off one by one. You ponder your options and move your eyes over Raphael.

"Wait.. I have one more preposition."

"It's too late."

Raphael pauses, lips thinning into a smirk and his eyes travel over your curvy frame, following the lines of your hips and up to your breasts before settling back on your deep eyes. He crosses his arms, drumming his fingers against his forearm, tongue flicking out against his bottom lip to moisten the skin there.

"There is only one thing you can offer me and I doubt you'd be willing to oblige."

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes squinting at the devil. What is his game here?

"Wanna bet?"

The devil steps even closer to you now, leaning in to just barely press his warm lips to your ear. You shudder at the sensation. His fingers reach out to trace your collar bones, little goosebumps raising on the sensitive flesh. His breath coasts along your earlobe.

"A night of pain and pleasure. Ecstasy unimagined. You may not leave here alive, but I suppose that's a risk you're going to have to take isn't it, little mouse? Do we have a deal? Or shall I kill you right here, right now."

Your jaw falls open slightly at the gentle caress of his fingers against your aching skin, shaking hands finding the front of his coat. You crumble at his words. His change of demeanor lights a fire inside of you that you can't control, flames licking deliciously at your core. You groan quietly into his ear and nod. A large hand moves up to your throat, closing its grip tightly around your airway and you grunt at the sudden loss of oxygen.

"Use your words."

"Deal."

Raphael grins and snaps with his free hand, the one grasping your throat tightening ever so slightly. The deal is signed, your soul is his for the taking. He revels in watching you squirm beneath his touch, your eyes rolling back into your head as you fight for consciousness. With a firm shove, he releases your throat and you collapse to your knees, struggling for breaths, your lungs burning. You cough, hands flat on the marble floor for support.

"I expect to find you in my boudoir. Remove your clothes and wait for me on your knees."

...

Raphael's boudoir is as lavish and expensive as you'd expect, perfectly crafted furniture adorned with jewels and gold leaf scattered about the room. A tall, large bed sits neatly made up against the far wall, sheer red tule cascading down and around the sides like a romantic shroud. You step carefully, eyes scanning the opulent paintings of Raphael hanging on the walls. He's so full of himself. What a surprise. With labored breaths, you begin to undress, the devil's words ringing in your ears. "Wait for me on your knees." You slide off the last garment and leave them in a neat pile on the floor, pale skin shivering with anticipation. Sliding to your knees carefully, you place your hands on your plush thighs and lower your head, waiting just as the devil asked you.

Raphael saunters into the room, chalice of red wine in hand, a confident air about his posture. He spots you on the ground and smirks, approaching you slowly.

"Such an obedient slave. You're going to be such a joy to play with."

Your core aches. Arousal coats your inner thighs and you squeeze them together tightly, lest you make a mess on Raphael's nice rug. Your knees burn from the rough surface beneath them and you shift uncomfortably. A small whine escapes you as Raphael moves to the side of you and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back roughly to make you look up at him, his free hand moving the chalice in small circles to swirl the sweet smelling contents inside.

"Hm. Open."

His eyes point at your lips and you obey, opening your mouth for him. He brings the chalice to his still smirking lips and takes a small sip of the wine, swishing it around his mouth. He leans over you and spits the wine into your mouth, little splashes of red landing on your cheeks and chin. You lap at the liquid, swallowing while keeping your eyes on Raphael, your tongue moving around your lips and chin to clean the droplets you can reach. Raphael growls quietly and tightens his grip on your hair.

"Good little mouse. Stand up."

You nod against the tension on the back of your head and carefully shuffle to your feet, thighs still squeezed tightly together. The devil eyes you carefully and releases your hair, beginning to circle around you like an owl bear stalking its prey. He reaches a hand out and presses it between your thighs, moving them apart. He groans at the warmth there and slides his hand upward, collecting your slick on his fingers.

"Already so wet for me. Open up. Now."

Your mouth opens quickly, tongue dropping out and he slides his now wet fingers against the drool covered surface, swiping back and forth. You mewl at your own taste and close your lips around his fingers, sucking them clean. His eyebrows tilt downwards and a moan escapes his gritting teeth. His fingers slide further into your mouth, prodding at the back of your throat now. You gag and he tuts quietly, pushing further. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes. Raphael grins and removes his fingers from your lips with a soft "pop", a string of drool connecting the two of you. You keen at the emptiness in your throat, looking up at the devil with glossy eyes. Your expression twists to one of need. Your eyes are begging. Absolute submission. Something you've never given anyone before, and something you definitely didn't initially plan to give a devil. Raphael made you feel things even the first time you met him. His deep voice makes your head spin. The subtle smell of cherries and smoke that lingers even after he leaves sets fire to your senses and you crave him. He's intoxicating, and you want to get drunk. Raphael considers you his only weakness, your supple curves tempting him regularly. Every visit to you is purely for his enjoyment at this point. He craves you too. Carnally. Cock twitching in his trousers when you disobey him. He often thinks about the way your hips sway when you walk, your voice sweet like honey when you question him. His lust for you goes far beyond depravity. And he intends to show you just that.

"On the bed, little mouse. Get pretty for me."

Climbing carefully on the bed, you sit up on your knees and Raphael shakes his head, following you up onto the silk duvet. He pushes you backwards onto the cloud-like surface, grasping your ankles to spread your legs as far apart as your hips will allow, each foot pointing towards the bottom corners of the bed. Thick leather straps lock onto your ankles first, Raphael humming quietly to himself as little gold padlocks click into place. He gives the restraints a hefty tug to test the integrity. The devil straddles your waist and moves your arms up to the upper corners of the bed, trapping your wrists the same way. His fingers fiddle with the second set of gold padlocks, a proud chuckle leaving his lips as he leans back to admire his work. You chew your lip and stare up at the ceiling, a large gold-framed mirror showing you a glimpse of your pathetic fate. Wet eyes blink up at your reflection and you whine at the tight restraints.

"Shh, this is all very necessary. Wouldn't want you running away now."

Hot lips press sloppy kisses to your thighs, needy fingers following close behind to grope the skin soon after. Your back bows off of the bed, limbs tugging at the restraints holding you down so perfectly. "Gods.." Raphael grins against your skin and squeezes your inner thigh. "None of those here, love." You grind your hips up into the air and cry out as Raphael bites into your sensitive skin suddenly, drawing blood. He laps at the red fluid carefully, his tongue tantalizingly hot. Pulling away, he admires the deep bite marks in your thigh and kisses them sweetly, moving up your thigh to sink his teeth into the skin just beside your dripping cunt. You throw your head back, jaw falling open and you cry his name loudly, tears stinging your eyes. He coos, moving his fingers up the rub the backs of his knuckles against the outside of your folds. Sticky arousal coats his fingers and your skin.

"Such a mess, mouse. Such a sweet mess. You've been so good so far, I think you deserve a reward."

Without warning, Raphael plunges two fingers into your quivering hole, earning a loud moan from you. Your walls tighten around him and he pumps back and forth slowly, ever so slightly curving the tips of his fingers upwards to just miss your g-spot. His thumb rubs clockwise circles into your swollen clit. He watches you carefully, taking inventory of each of your moans, whimpers, and cries. Your legs tremble at the sensation, arousal dripping onto the bed and creating a puddle on the silk each time Raphael slides his fingers almost all the way out of your cunt before roughly plunging them back into your warmth. He hisses, fingers prodding at your cervix. You gasp for air, a delicious mixture of his promised pain and pleasure knocking the wind out of you with each of his harsh thrusts.

"That's it. You're doing so good."

His deep voice sends a shiver down your tight spine. The muscles in your abdomen wind in a ball each time Raphael's fingers scrape your walls, thumb still working furiously on your now aching bundle of nerves. You cry out once more, nearing your end rapidly. His pace quickens and your entire body tenses in response, sweat beading up all over you, your pale skin glistening in the lanternlight of the boudoir. Raphael leans down and licks a long strip from the top of your mound to your sternum, the salty taste of your sweat blurring his vision. He bites into your hip, earning another cry. The rope of pleasure in your belly tightens further and further, little twinges of pain making your eyes roll back into your skull. Jaw falling slack, you ball your hands into fists, your toes curling and and causing your calves to cramp.

"Raphael.. I'm so close.. C-Can I.."

Raphael climbs up near your head, leaning in to nip at the tip of your pointed ear, breath hot against your skin. His fingers quickly slide out of you, your walls fluttering around the emptiness. Whining loudly, you wiggle your hips at your fleeting orgasm, tears freely streaming down the sides of your face and into your ears.

"Aht aht. Not yet. I'm not finished with you."

The devil slinks off of the bed, undressing in front of you slowly. He slides his coat off and tosses it onto the velvet bench at the end of the bed, silk shirt following soon after. He kicks his boots off and reaches for the laces on his trousers, cock straining against the tight fabric. You drool at the sight of him. Gods, he's beautiful. With careful attention to your reactions, Raphael tugs his trousers and underwear down simultaneously, thick cock springing out and upward. You groan, blinking at him with intense need. The need to fill you up with his girth. To hear him moan as he absolutely ruins you. You buck your hips up off of the bed and whine for him, cheeks burning a sweet shade of red. Your face burns hot. Your belly aches, core awaiting his inches. He saunters back to the bed, snapping his fingers and all 4 little padlocks click at the same time, falling to the duvet beneath you. You wiggle your fingers and toes, awaiting your freedom. Gentle hands work at the leather straps to carefully undo them. With close movements, Raphael climbs back onto the bed, warm body sliding carefully up yours before settling on top of you, weight pushing you into the mattress. You hesitate for a moment, blinking up at him.

"M-May I touch you? Please?"

"Since you asked so nicely, you may."

You lower your arms from their previous resting place above your head and carefully run the tips of your fingers down Raphael's sides, his skin breaking out in goosebumps at your feather light touch. He groans quietly, head lowering so his chin rests on your shoulder. You shiver and continue the movement of your fingers to his back, nails digging daringly into his flesh and dragging downward in one long, rough line. He grunts and bucks his hips forward, one hand planting firmly on the bed beside your head, the other grasping your cheeks roughly, squishing your face so your lips pucker open. He sneers, gathering a decent amount of saliva before spitting directly into your mouth. You choke and writhe beneath him, the taste of wine and your own blood still lingering in his spit. He chuckles and sits up on his knees between your thighs, grasping your hips to carefully pull your lower body closer to his, dripping cunt resting against his painfully erect cock. You test the waters once more, rolling your hips upwards against him.

"So impatient, little mouse. You're going to get yourself in trouble acting like that."

Raphael grips his member in his hand, spitting into his palm and giving it a few slow pumps before lining up with your slit, quickly slamming himself inside. You gasp and shriek out loud, arms reaching to push yourself away from him. He expertly grasps your wrists and pins them above your head with one hand, the other hand wrapping perfectly around your sore throat, thumb pressing into one side, fingers following suit on the other side. Little black spots float through your vision and he thrusts into you again, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. Your hips twitch beneath him but you do your best to hold still now, your vision going blurry as you fade in and out of consciousness. Raphael holds you in that position, head dizzy from the way your walls grip his cock. His hips find a steady rhythm now. A single finger points upwards towards the large mirror you noticed earlier.

"Look at how pathetic you are. Watch me fuck you. Watch me ruin you."

You mewl when you finally adjust to his size, eyes flicking upwards to the mirror. He releases your throat, hand dropping to grope at your breast. You push your chest up into his touch needily. Gentle fingers stroke back and forth over the tender flesh, flicking a few times over your nipple before rearing back and landing a firm smack. You grunt, a red handprint quickly raising on the skin of your breast. Raphael continues to thrust into you, pausing for a moment to lock one of his legs with yours and flip the two of you over, settling you on top of him. His hands find yours, lacing your fingers together.

"Ride. And maybe I'll let you cum tonight."

You nod sheepishly, knees planting firmly on either side of his torso. Your hips roll back and forth with perfect rhythm, hands gripping onto Raphael's tightly for stability. He hisses, head tilting back into the soft pillows beneath him. You lean forward to press a soft kiss to his Adam's apple and giggle at the strained whine he lets out. Making the devil himself crumble under your touch. How brave. Raphael's honey colored eyes meet yours and you smile sweetly down at him, you hips taking on a slight bounce now. The devil grits his teeth and releases your hands, his own moving to your hips to guide you up and down on his weeping cock, his hips thrusting roughly up into you now. Sharp nails find purchase on Raphael's chest, scratching long thin lines into the burning flesh, little droplets of blood dribbling up through the fresh wounds. You throw your head back in ecstasy, Raphael digging his nails into the firm skin of your ass.

"By the Nine Hells, I'm so close.."

His voice is strained, pitch wavering as he nears his end. You double down on your movements.

"Cum for me, Raphael."

His eyes burn bright in the lanternlight and he switches positions again, rolling you over and pulling your ass to him, a large hand gripping the hair on the back of your head to shove your face into the mattress. He shoves his cock into you once more, fucking you into the silk, free hand landing a loud smack against the flesh of your ass. You jolt forward, walls tightening subconsciously around him and he gasps at the sudden change of sensation. He yanks his cock out of you swiftly and begins to pump it with his hand, hot ropes of milky white cum spewing onto your ass and back, making a mess of you. You grin, obediently keeping your face pressed to the bed. "Fucking shit!" Raphael cries out, hand slowing to a stop before letting his cock fall limp against his thigh, still twitching from his earth shattering orgasm. You turn your head slightly to peek up at him, his chest heaving. He swipes his fingers through the mess on your backside, collecting a reasonable amount before shoving his fingers into your mouth. You mewl and swirl your tongue around the digits, sucking and licking them clean.

"You vixen.."

Raphael pulls his fingers away from you, immediately shoving them into your cunt. You jolt forward once more, rocking yourself back and forth on his fingers, desperate for your own release. "P-Please.."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. You'll have to speak up."

"Please, Raphael.."

He shakes his head, free hand reaching between your legs to rub your clit with his palm, the coverage and friction sending you into a moaning frenzy.

"Louder."

You cry out at the movement of both of his hands, hands grasping for the silk duvet. Your back arches inward, churning belly pressing tightly to the mattress.

"Fuck, please, Raphael! Please let me cum!"

"Much better, mouse."

His hands pick up speed. Your moans and whimpers silence to airless gasps, legs shaking uncontrollably under his touch. His fingers slide carefully out of your cunt, other hand still furiously working your overstimulated clit. He's determined now. The rope in your belly begins to tighten again, winding itself into a big knot before snapping all together, your vision going white as your orgasm nearly knocks you all the way over. You scream the devil's name, along with many other incoherent words, your legs kicking and arms flailing as Raphael continues rubbing. Your clit burns beneath his fingers, your walls fluttering around nothing. Emptiness. Using the edge of the bed as leverage, you pull yourself away from Raphael's fingers, panting heavily as you squeeze your thighs together. "Fuck.. Ow fuck.." Raphael grins down at you, reaching forward to firmly press his palm against your clit again. You sob, trying to squeeze your thighs together to no avail. He palms at your clit roughly, free hand swirling soft circles around your slit. He's torturing you now, relishing in the way he can make you spasm. Tears stream down your cheeks and you wiggle yourself away from him again. Raphael chuckles and sits back, allowing you your small moment to recover.

"I believe we've both delivered what we've promised. You're free to go now."

He motions towards the door of the boudoir, eyes narrowing on you, waiting on a response. You stare at him, blinking the tears away. After a moment of contemplation, you shake your head and climb up towards the pillows at the head of the bed, settling on your side. Your fingers trace little shapes into the sweat soaked silk.

"I don't know.. I think I could get used to this. Staying here, with you. As long as you help my friends and I with this little-"

You point to your temple, illuding to the tadpole that still angrily wriggles behind your eyes.

"-Problem."

Raphael's eyes widen and he ponders for a moment, tired body slinking up to rest next to you. He reaches out and trails a hand over the highs and lows of your curves, licking his lips hungrily.

"I think we could arrange something."

#Raphael bg3 #Raphael fanfic #fic request #Raphael smut #Raphael x Tav #house of hope #baldurs gate fanfic

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starlettechild · 4 months

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𝔏𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔯𝔢 à é𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔢

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

CONTENT: Raphael x Aasimar!Tav. Even while Raphael is an infernal being, he still has an admiration for divine creatures. The human within him worships them in his darkest moments. He’s become an unholy acolyte, especially for one angel in particular.

⚠️TWs⚠️: Religious(dnd) dynamics, obsessive behavior, religious(dnd) themes. Act 2 and slightly 3 spoilers!!

A/N: Reader is gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The aasimar in this version of the story is moralistic, but I’m considering making an opposite version of this for fun. Also, Raphael is 100% a bard. It’s just in him to want to follow something, and what better way to do that than to become a follower of Tav?

“And if the devil was to ever meet you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent.” - Farouq Jwaydeh

The human blood that courses through Raphael has always longed to make itself known. Those pathetic mortal urges that sometimes fleet across his mind had always made him grimace. He would never admit it, but it was his human side that fueled his campaign against his father. The longing for justice and revenge was a mortal urge. Surely, it’s his human side now that makes him give into such a strange thing. Worship. Devotion.

He would never partake in such weak things in his home. Not with peering eyes that always turn to him. His home wasn’t even a home. It was a stage - one he constantly ruled. Putting on his best shoes and displays. His best lies and smiles. No.. he needed somewhere different. Quiet and somewhere only he would be. With the shadow-cursed lands clearing and the adventurers on the way to Baldurs Gate, it’s a perfect place for such secrecy. The lingering darkness provides him with comfort, and the sights of corrupt corpses would scare off any wanderers headed towards this treeline, no? Only the shadows would see, and even they slither away from him in fear.

There was something about Tav that racked and shook the shelves of his mind. An unspoken part of him that wanted to bow in the face of holiness, but another part that wanted to laugh in it. A battle between his two different lineages. But of course, with each heroic deed from them and each glimpse of those great white wings of theirs the battle within was coming to a conclusion. The blows from his human blood began to overpower everything else. His secret wants and admirations were pushed in front of him each day. It became hard to work and manipulate, with such wants unsatisfied. Like a spoiled child his human half demanded to be obeyed, and finally, he gave in.

Deep within the shadowlands is the statue he carved of them in stone. Great wings extended from their back and their hands beaconing forth the weary and weak. In his artistry, he had spent days trying to perfect each finger and feature. Sometimes, destroying the whole thing in a fit of rage and frustration, but then kneeling in-front of the ruins in shame. The last thing he wanted was for such a holy being to be ruined. He wanted them to be perfect. His own deity. A private religion that consisted of only him. Their most loyal acolyte. A flurry of snow begins to fall from the dark sky, frost creeping up the long-dead wood of trees. The flakes slowly make themselves home on his statue of Tav, and apart of him becomes jealous. Small and pure things worthy of touching the statue he made of them. But he isn’t. Even while sculpting them, the thought of ruining Tav with his unholy hands disgusted him, and he had to wear gloves. The replica of his private deity looks astonishing in this wintery mix, despite his personal feelings of the snow. While it decorates them like jewelry, it sizzles off of his skin. Another reminder of the divide between him and them. The holy, and the unholy.

He kneels in the thin and growing blanket of snow in-front of the statue, bowing his head and shutting his eyes. In his mine, he thinks of every curve and edge of them before him. How would they look down upon him? For they could not even gaze at him in their meetings, desperate for separation once more. Perhaps this is Raphaels way of earning just one glance or nod from them. Repenting in-front of an idol of them. He conjures their judgement. Those wings and those eyes that will finally meet his own, and see him as the man - not the devil. They are the only person he wishes to be truly seen by. Every fiendish instinct is shoved down in their overwhelming presence, leaving only the bare and utterly human Raphael. Would they look then, if he spilt his own hellish blood at the idols feet? Would they forgive him for his limitless sins if he spent hours before the idol, his head bowed in shame? How many nights of repentance must he go through, until he finally thinks himself worthy to run his bare hands along the stone image of them? Perhaps centuries, till he thinks himself worthy to press his lips against the stone. But he’ll never be worthy of the real thing, because he bows in-front of them, only to sin again when the daylight comes.

He does not know how much time passes as he sits there kneeling in-front of the statue of Tav. The snow has piled up around him, the heat that radiates from him no match for the furious cold. When he opens his eyes, it has blanketed around Tav, amounts of it still clinging on top of them. He rises, and a bare hand reaches out to brush some off, only to end up being lowered.

For these unholy hands will stain his angel, and if he were to touch them, he’d have to bow and repent again.

#bg3 writing #raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #raphael fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 aasimar #Spotify

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imgeekgirlfan · 2 months

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Deal with the Devil

Pairings: Raphael x f!Tav/Reader [From Baldur's Gate 3]

Content Rating : Mature 18+

Warnings: Spoilers for Act 3 (Baldur's Gate 3), NSFW, Smut, Manipulation, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Creampie, Rough Sex, Biting, Ownership, they hate each other but also fuck each other, (Raphael is a Man Whore)

Synopsis : Yes, making a deal with the devil was foolish, but fucking the devil you despise is even more foolish.

AN : This one-short fic is inspired by the quest ‘Deal with the Devil’ involving Raphael in Act 3. Raphael approaches Tav to make a deal at the Sharess' Caress (a situation conducive to writing smut fic Lol)

Yes, I know that Canon Raphael is bad in sex, but I don't care! hope you guys enjoy the full experience of ‘Man Whore’ Raphael in my fic.

also big thank to my lovely friend and smut fic expert (lol) @missmarmaladeth for being the beta reader for this fic. If it weren't for her help in proofreading and providing guidance, this fic wouldn't have been completed (tbh, it's very hard to write a horny fic)

Read in Ao3 : here

Two years.

That's exactly how long since you left Baldur's Gate, your hometown.

You reminisce about the past when you decided to escape, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. You had sworn to yourself that you wouldn't set foot in that wretched city again.

But fate has a whimsical way of playing with your life.

Two years of tumultuous uncertainty, a journey you never thought would happen to your ordinary life. started with surviving the infection of mind-flayers, spreading madness into your brain. You joined forces with other survivors, embarking on an adventure to find a cure. Along the way, you get involved in local troubles, both intentionally and unintentionally. From goblins to witches, demons, and even confronting malevolent gods lurking behind schemes of dominion.

Who would have thought all of this would lead you back to Baldur's Gate once more, with a drastically different role from before.

The hero, the sole hope of the kingdom, defending the city of Baldur's Gate

Quite amusing indeed.

You sigh deeply, mocking yourself genuinely. As you follow your gaze along the densely packed houses and shops on both sides of the street, some built with bricks, some with wood, the salty smell of the seaside city mixes with the faint stench of fish stalls and the smoky haze from distant ironworks. The grumbling chatter of the townsfolk invites annoyance but is still pale in comparison to the beggars and street children attempting to pickpocket you at least five times, forcing you to handle it the way the hero of the city should—threatening to chop off their hands if they dared show their faces near you again.

After keeping an eye on the little delinquents skulking away through the alley and ensuring no one would disturb your peace again, you turn your attention back to Baldur's Gate once more, this time with a different sense.

Certainly, overall, the city remains as chaotic as ever. But you find it hard to articulate what you're feeling at the moment. It's like you don't really know and aren't familiar with this place at all, even though Baldur's Gate is your hometown.

You can't pinpoint precisely what is strangely amiss, from the people to the houses and in every square inch of the city. Yet, you sense deep down that there's something unsettling here. It's as if all the malevolence has converged on this city.

Soon, you discover where the root of that malevolence comes from

Sharess' Caress, the most notorious brothel in Baldur's Gate.

You didn't intend to come here to seek sexual pleasure for yourself. But one of the small quests you took on due to financial need is linked to the disappearance of a prostitute, which seems to be connected to the murder case of a prominent priest in the community, as well as the case of explosive-laden donation boxes. Because The suspicious toymaker also seems to be lingering around this brothel as well

It's suspicious... Why do all the clues from three different cases point directly to this brothel?

But setting aside those minor quests, another interesting thing about Sharess' Caress is the special concoction Drink from the bartender named Hooligan, which has gained fame as the city's signature drink that one mustn't miss. You've never had the chance to taste it before.

Considering the burdensome responsibilities you've shouldered throughout the journey, facing life-threatening situations multiple times, would it be reasonable to reward yourself just a little?

However, bringing companions into the brothel seems somewhat unsettling. So, it might be better to let everyone separate and enjoy some relaxation in the city for a day before regrouping once again. Even though Baldur's Gate may not be the most hospitable place for you, it's still an exciting city for outsiders like Shadowheart, a rural dweller from Moonhaven, or Lae'zel, the warrior from the Githyanki tribe, who comes from Stardock, far away from here. It's not a difficult decision for them to explore the big city rather than drink their heads off in the brothel with you.

The white-painted wooden building may look compact from the outside, but it's much more spacious inside than expected. As it's midday, there aren't as many people in the brothel as you thought. You maintain a composed expression as a woman in a tight-fitting red and green dress with a high slit saunters over to greet you at the counter. Each step she takes reveals smooth white legs intentionally. Her golden, voluminous hair cascades down in waves, and her heavily made-up face resembles a glamorous mannequin, with a full-fledged business-like smile. She introduces herself as 'Mamzell Amira', the owner and madam of this brothel.

“A weary traveller, battered and bruised. You come for sustenance. No —Decadence. A mien cool as ice, yet eyes burning hot. Oh yes, I know your bliss.” She spoke in a melodic tone, akin to singing a song. Her captivating voice effortlessly sent shivers down the spines of those who listened, making them either enraptured or have goosebumps “A sturdy dwarf, a leather whip. She gives - you receive. Or have I misjudged you?”

You almost choked on yourself, having to fake a cough to clear your throat. You were somewhat relieved that your companions didn't come with you, as the current situation was quite awkward.

"I didn't come here for that," you clarified.

Amira raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by the guest who didn't come for sexual purposes like others. She appraised you once more; Everything about you seemed contradictory—the youthful appearance conflicted with the worldly weariness reflected in your expression, and the luxurious silver brooch nestled in your light-colored hair hinted at your high-class status in Baldur's Gate.

Overall, you didn't quite look like an adventurer, more like one of those noble daughters dwelling on a grand estate. However, the silver-accented armor and the sharp-pointed sword hanging at your waist confirmed your profession as an adventurer quite well.

Nevertheless, there was something the madam was particularly confident about—you have money, and she wasn't foolish enough to let a heavy-pocketed customer like you slip away easily.

"Of course, my dear. We've other ways to fill your void. A drink, for one. A pair of Drows for another. or Devils, for those who desire to be scorched, Choose your sin."

"Devils?" That word struck a chord within you, and your unintentional display of curiosity was quickly noticed under Amira's keen observation.

“Oh yes, We are blessed to have a devil in residence at the moment—a temporary guest, but he asked that I send any potential clients his way.”

You listened to Amira intently and silently. With a face hard to read from Amira's perspective, However, the woman still seemed excited, thinking she could successfully entice the customer as she had intended.

“Everyone who's paid a visit looks quite changed by the experience.” Amira continues to convince you, hoping to stimulate your curiosity even more. The madam was right that you were very interested in this devil, but certainly not out of infatuation or admiration.

This was because you had a strong intuition that you might know this mysterious devil very well.

There was no point in keeping the doubt to yourself. You took a breath before firing the last question that lingered in your mind, "Tell me, did the devil give you its name?"

The corners of the lips, painted with red lipstick, widened into a broader smile than before as she uttered the name of someone—someone whose name you didn't want to hear most at this moment.

"Indeed, he did—Raphael."

Raphael

Exceedingly handsome. and with a voice that could make the foulest blasphemy seem the sweetest hymn

Amira mentioned him like that without exaggeration, not even a bit. Raphael was the embodiment of mesmerizing allure, drawing mortals to worship him instantly upon meeting his gaze. You became aware of this when you first encountered him at the Emerald Grove. introducing himself to you as one of the Lords of Hell and Ruler of the House of Hope.

With sharp facial features and dark red skin like the evening sky, he was towering and majestic. He was always dressed in expensive attire wherever he appeared. He evoked a sense of unease in you at first sight, reminiscent of the highborn nobles of Baldur's Gate that you despised deeply.

But beyond the despised feeling, there was also discomfort mixed in. Under the red-brown eyes of the devil, every time he gazed at you, it wasn't just surface-level scrutiny; it felt like he was delving deep into your soul, reflecting every sin you've hidden away.

You and Raphael have never crossed paths before, and there wouldn't have been much chance of meeting either. But because you've become a hero and have built up a myriad of adventures outside the city of Baldur's Gate, that drew Raphael's attention significantly. He appears before you, inviting you to visit his home and offering assistance in overcoming the imminent threats to the kingdom. All he asked for was a small pact from you.

You refuse without hesitation. Only fools would sell their souls to the devil.

However, your rejection triggered the ego of the Devil Lord intensely. From then on, the cat-and-mouse game began. He pursued you everywhere, like a shadow, lurking in the darkness and revealing himself in the light. His red-brown eyes watched your every move, waiting for the opportunity to intervene in your adventurous journey. Sometimes he helped you, while other times he intentionally made your life much more difficult. Your existence became excellent entertainment for Raphael, and he was determined not to let you easily escape from him.

You remember well when the devil stood before you, asserting that you had no way to refuse him. No courageous human would dare to reject him, and one day, you would have to crawl back to him in hell, knocking on the door of the House of Hope to beg for his help.

What an absorbed devil he was!

'Little Mouse' Raphael always called you that, with a tone of endearment like a generous person coaxing a child. But this devil was far from being akin to the term 'generosity. He always saw himself as the cat teasing a mouse like you, making you run around and struggle until exhausted before finally smacking you down under his paw, leaving you only to plead for mercy. That was his true desire.

There's no need to guess. Raphael is here because he wants to disturb your emotions, as usual. This thought made you so annoyed that you wanted to walk out and find another bar to drink at. However, escaping felt like accepting losing, and you hated defeat as much as Raphael did. So, you resolved to ignore the devil all day, as long as you didn't come face-to-face with him. There is no reason to lose your temper, right?

You lean back on the wooden chair in front of the bar counter, waiting for a drink from Hooligan, who is busy concocting drinks for other customers. The contemporary music playing softly through the red curtains on the opposite side helps set the lively and relaxed atmosphere. You let yourself unwind a bit, until a customer sitting nearby turns and greets you in a friendly manner.

"Oh! It's Raphael's favorite misadventurer, aren't you?"

Although you intended not to pay attention to Raphael entirely, you reluctantly acknowledge that his name always manages to catch your interest. Glancing at the person beside you distrustfully, you notice she is a Halfling woman. She holds a large glass of beer in her hand and offers a friendly smile that seems more genuine than hostile. Despite the dark eyes that seem to harbor a hint of mischief, you observe her staff and expensive robes, making a guess that she might be either a witch or a warlock. Yet you're more convinced she's a warlock since she seems to know Raphael well.

"You've put me out of pocket, you know. Raphael bet me five soul coins you'd reach the city in one piece," the petite woman continued, unfazed by your silence and indifferent to your skeptical gaze that turned back to her. "He rented a room upstairs, in the hope that you'd drop by."

"First things first, who are you exactly?"

Finally, you asked what you had been wondering. You had only just met her here today. It was strange that she conversed with you as if you were old acquaintances. This made you even more suspicious because you knew she was connected with Raphael, and Raphael's people were never trustworthy to you. You thought so while touching the sword strapped to your side, ready to fight if necessary.

"Ah, I forgot we've never met. I've had my eyes and ears on you so long, we feel like old friends."

She glanced at your hand gripping the sword hilt and sighed slowly, almost mockingly, before extending her hand towards you.

"Korilla is my name. I'm Raphael's....assistant, shall we say."

You cursed Raphael inwardly. This was the reason he often appeared to you at inconvenient times. He had eyes and ears around you all along, sending people like Korilla to follow you everywhere.

Once, you wondered and even asked him directly if he was intentionally following you. But the devil just laughed and accused you of flattering yourself.

Raphael was quite a tricky devil, able to deceive you like this.

"Sorry, but I don't think I have any business with your master," you replied firmly, refusing even to shake hands with Korilla as a gesture of courtesy.

Korilla didn't take offense at your discourteous actions. Instead, she seemed to empathize with you a little, judging from your whacked expression. She knew you had been through a lot before getting in here. Watching you under Raphael's orders for a long time made her know everything about you, almost as much as she knew about her own master.

Raphael liked you a lot. Korilla knew that well, even though he never said it. and she herself liked you just as much.

"Take your time—have a drink, sample the good. Go see him when you're feeling refreshed."

The halfling warlock spoke before getting up from her seat and walking away. With just a blink of an eye, she disappeared as if she had never been here before, leaving only a faint scent of sulfuric acid, a trademark of the devils swirling beneath your nose, along with bits of hellish ashes scattered on the floor.

You are wondering why she was so confident that you would encounter Raphael.

Overthinking was futile. You brushed away the doubts from your mind and returned to the bar once again. Hooligan sent a business smile similar to Amira's as she placed the polished aluminum glass on the clean wooden table. She was a tall, masculine woman with short hair. You noticed the rough, scared hands, which definitely didn’t come from just poring drinks but from many tales of the battles. You know she’s just like you, or perhaps used to be like you.

"Miss, may I recommend a new drink for you?" Hooligan said as she reached for the ale pitcher nearby and poured it into the glass set in front of you until the thick foam almost spilled over. "My new drink is sure to knock you off your feet."

The rich, dark brown beer exuded a sweet aroma, tantalizing your taste buds. You raised your head to look at Hooligan, considering her offer thoughtfully "Sounds intriguing. How exactly does it knock one off my feet?"

"Oh, I couldn't tell you that! It's not that it's a secret, but I don't even know exactly how it'll turn out. Exciting, isn't it?" Hooligan winked, looking at you scrutinizingly "It might make you stronger, more alert, improve your palate, or knock you out completely. You won't know until its first drop hits your tongue."

You know both of your downsides very well: one - you don't like being challenged, and two - you're not hesitant to try new things, even if they might not sit well with your stomach (like eating glowing mushrooms from the Underdark that gave you a three-day bout of diarrhea).

You didn't take long to think before raising the glass to your lips and saying, 'I'll give it a try.'

'Oh, and don't blame me if there are side effects, like fingers turning into tentacles or your tongue becoming a piece of wood,' the bartender warned you at the end, but it was too late. You had already swallowed the liquid smoothly down your throat.

And you had no idea whatsoever about the side effects... much worse than what Hooligan had cautioned you about.

Everything was just too much. Too much.

You're not sure if this is drunkenness or not. But within seconds, the heat starts rising, scorching from the tip of your tongue down to your gut. Your face flushes with a deep red, and dizziness clouds your mind as if you've downed five glasses instead of just one.

Suddenly, every nerve feels strangely awakened, and emotions are overwhelming and difficult to control. Your senses expand to encompass everything within Sharess' Caress, whether it's taste, smell, sound, or even the pulsating veins beneath your skin.

And right then, you feel the sharp gaze piercing directly toward you, from somewhere neither near nor far.

You lift your gaze to the second floor of the brothel, peering through the oakwood ceiling. While the eyes of ordinary humans like yours couldn't penetrate beyond, you sense there's someone up there, someone with enough ability to observe you from a distance stealthily.

Raphael

For a moment, you recall Korilla's words from earlier

"Take your time—have a drink, sample the good. Go see him when you're feeling refreshed."

Perhaps it's the effect of the drink that makes you feel so invigorated, almost recklessly bold, mixed with a touch of annoyance since you learned you've been watched by the Devil himself from the start.

Suddenly, you feel the urge to tease Raphael. It's not that you've never teased Raphael before, but this time, the alcohol coursing through your veins seems to be a significant factor in stimulating your mind.

Just the thought of seeing Raphael frustrated lifts your mood instantly.

Without hesitation, you rise to your feet, flexing your muscles slightly before relaxing them. You do not forget to leave two gold coins for Hooligan as payment for the ale. Then you stride confidently towards the staircase, adorned with red carpeting. Prepare yourself for the confrontation that is bound to happen very soon.

Devil’s Dan

You read the name of the room with a small chuckle. You had thought it would take longer to find Raphael's room, but the letters inscribed on the prominent wooden sign next to the door immediately caught your eye. It was as if the Devil himself was shouting at you, saying, ‘I'm here!’

Korilla wasn't lying when she said her master was eagerly waiting to meet you. Raphael did everything to reveal to you that he was here.

You pushed open the large wooden door and stepped inside. The scent of incense and faint sulphur greeted your nose.

"Well, well, Little Mouse finally emerges from its hole. I thought you wouldn't dare to face me."

Raphael's soft voice echoed before you could see him. You turned towards the sound and met the gaze of the familiar and handsome dark-skinned man in a sleek, red-lined noble's attire. From head to toe, he exuded refinement. He sat in a luxurious chair at the center of the room, with papers, ink bottles, wine glasses, and an unfinished chessboard on the table before him. His arms rested on the armrests, fingers interlaced in front of him. His gestures were graceful and confident, yet subtly commanding.

However, you couldn't deny that Raphael in human form was remarkably beautiful. He seemed more like an Aasimar than a Cambion.

Yet, a devil is a devil through, no matter what. His beautiful appearance is crafted to lure human souls, including yours.

However, you remained the only person who didn't fall into Raphael's tempting trap.

For Raphael, you were fundamentally different from the many mortals of Faerûn. Whether in centuries or millennia, you remained steadfast and never bowed your head to anyone, not even to a god or devil like him. You were stubborn yet willing to compromise, threaten, and negotiate when necessary, choosing to handle everything through diplomacy rather than force. And you did it all with remarkable finesse.

He still remembered the time when Astarion, the white-haired High Elf vampire who was your team companion, came to plead with him to help read the symbols carved on his back by his old master's hand. But because devils never helped anyone for free, Raphael offered to kill Yurgir, one of the Orthons who had escaped from him, as an exchange. You were reluctant to agree with him, but you accepted to help your friend without realizing it was a suicide mission.

Yurgir was a fiend adept at slaughtering, one of the formidable of hell. Many brave souls had agreed to deal with Raphael to kill this fiend, exchanging fame, gold, and impossible desires—but none had ever succeeded.

Until you. You were the only one who succeeded effortlessly, using only your persuasive skills and wit to deceive the foolish Fiend into killing himself and staying in hell under his power once again. Fulfilling the pact beautifully and seamlessly.

That was just one of his impressions from many stories of yours that Raphael closely monitored, initially hoping to see your failures. Instead, you always left him fascinated with every feat you accomplished. Eventually, your name—a mere human—had been deeply engraved in his mind.

It's been a long time since Raphael has enjoyed anyone's company as much as yours. And it's difficult for him to let a little mouse like you slip away from his claws.

Surprise flashed on the devil lord's face as you walked in to see him so casually, without provocation or fleeing as usual. You sank into the chair opposite, crossed your arms, and looked at him with a strange smile before bursting into laughter, which only fueled Raphael's curiosity even more.

"What's so funny?" he asked impatiently when you still didn't speak.

"Nothing really," you shrugged, still chuckling, "I just didn't expect you to do something like this."

You stopped speaking intentionally, leaving the devil more curious than before. You always knew how to tease and surprise Raphael, making it a small, subtle entertainment between you and him.

"Amira said this place has new upper-level prostitutes, a handsome devil," you added mischievously.

You lowered your eyes in a gleefully mood when you saw Raphael's expression change immediately as you spoke.

You didn't make up the story yourself; Amira told you so. It seemed the madam misunderstood severely, thinking that trading human souls was equivalent to trading sexual services. Also, Raphael hadn't revealed his true status to her because he didn't pay attention to lowly humans. So, in Amira's eyes, this devil was just one of the temporary prostitutes here for some sinful indulgence.

The grandiose ruler of the Nine Hells had turned into nothing more than a whore in Baldur's Gate. Isn't that funny?

"Amira said you have so many guests. I'm curious how much those people have to pay to fuck a grand devil like you."

You paused abruptly. The seemingly comfortable afternoon air suddenly turned heavy, suffocating, and oppressive—as if you were just a tiny ant ready to be crushed underfoot at any moment. You trembled, feeling both cold and feverish, sweating profusely all over your skin. It felt like the scorching flames of hell were passing through your body rapidly.

You swallowed hard, struggled, and started to regret what you just said. It seemed like you might have gone too far because Raphael, who always enjoyed teasing you, chose to remain silent—ominously quiet.

You thought he was angry. Surely, he must be angry. Yet why did the one who should be angry crack such a strange and untrustworthy smile like that?

The hairs on your neck stood as the devil leaned closer. In the blink of an eye, the human form transformed into a full-fledged devil. Dark red skin returned to its fiery origin. Wide, menacing wings spread a threat. The devil's smile remained. He grasped your chin with sharp, clawed fingers, pressing hard enough to hurt but not enough to draw blood.

The yellow, fiery eyes gleamed vividly, refusing to look away. Flames flickered within those dual orbs, said to resemble venomous snakes, representatives of sin and vice. But Raphael was more than that. You thought he could drag you to hell with just a glance.

"Of course, my worth is quite high," he said, his voice both silky and dangerous. "But since you, little mouse, dare to ask,. I'll offer you a special discount just for you."

Before you could retort, every word was swallowed by the devil's lips, engulfed by the Lord of Hell's mouth as if claimed dominantly. Your breath is taken away and replaced by a strange new taste, burning like flames ignited by a matchstick. arousing sensations of arousal from head to toe.

Your eyes widen, and your breathing quickens in sync with your heartbeat. You know this isn't right. Raphael is the devil, the person you should flee from the most. But your body responds in contradiction. The effects of the alcohol persist, and you're too weak to resist, even though you can't admit to yourself that you're content with this kiss.

The moment lingers, almost eternal, as the devil hopes to extinguish mortal life with the touch of his lips.

Finally, Raphael withdraws his lips, allowing you to catch your breath once more. His long nails still grasp your chin, studying the woman before him; your flushed face is now even more red and radiant than before.

"Little mouse, so impolite and uncouth. How fortunate you are to still be my favorite. If it were someone else, they wouldn't have a tongue or mouth to speak so freely like this again." Raphael smirked, trailing light kisses along the edge of your lips to your earlobe. Normally, he couldn't read your mind at all, but this time, it's as easy as reading the morning newspaper—Everything you think or feel at this moment.

Certainly, beer plays a part, but other components are just as important.

From the missing prostitutes to the mysterious priest murder and the toy bomb case, the evil deeds of humans are all connected to the devil, more or less.

And everything leads you here, falling into his hands.

You are overly confident. You always think you're the one in control of the game. But that's your mistake. No matter how hard you struggle, you're just a little mouse, dancing and following his plan. And he always enjoys the game of chasing mice with you.

"Why are you so quiet, little mouse? has the cat got your tongue?" Raphael teased you. when you, who have been skilled in provocation, keep silent. He found it somewhat amusing to see you trying to maintain self-control, as well as the little remaining dignity in you, even if it failed utterly.

Your breath stuck, and Raphael's touch felt like a paralyzing ray spell. You wanted to argue, to refute, to draw your sword against him, but you knew you couldn't. Every cause and effect had stopped working in your mind when you fell under the gaze of those yellow eyes, and his nails still lingered on your face.

You've been in dangerous situations many times before, and you know that what's happening right now is no less dangerous than escaping from the goblin camp or facing the God of Death. But what sets it apart from everything else is that you don't feel scared or angry, but rather, you feel the excitement coursing through every corner of your body as his hands explore, pushing beyond the boundaries that you and he usually tease each other with. It awakens something that you've tried to suppress all along.

For whatever reason, both he and you know well enough that he wants you just as much as you want him, especially at this moment—right now.

Playing with Raphael is like playing with fire. You know it deep in your heart. When he pulls you close with his tail, the curve of his lips forms a wicked smile. and those intense eyes of his gleaming with desire, resembling the fiery hell that attracts the lost souls towards him like moths.

With just a flick of his finger, Raphael can easily manage to unravel your armor. He's done it before with Astarian, mocking and revealing the marks from hell on the vampire's back.

But it's too easy for him, and the Devil Lord doesn't fancy anything that comes too easily. You know him as well as he knows you.

Each of Raphael's hands undoes some part of the armor, graceful and flexible, like the way he handles his luxurious cloak. The sound of metal hitting the wooden floor momentarily brings back the remaining shreds of sanity. Part of you wants to test Raphael like you tested Halsin—the archdruid from Emerald Grove who charm you. You just want to see how far it will go and where it will stop.

But it turns out that you are testing your own patience.

You bite your lip unknowingly as Raphael's finger moves up to your bare thigh. You want to reject him, to feel disgusted at the touch, but every part of you is calling out to him. You realize that being with him every second makes you feel like you're floating in the middle of a dark, endless ocean with no way forward and no idea where to stop. In the end, you'll probably succumb to drowning, for sure.

"I think I should ask Amira for a refund," you say, hating how hollow your voice sounds. "You're more drab than the drow twins downstairs." You didn't intend to utter the final sentence, knowing that you're at a disadvantage now to challenge him. But it's hard to resist, given the old habit between you and him of always looking for ways to annoy each other.

"Is that so?" Raphael chuckled softly, always admiring your boldness in every situation, even now. "No refunds unless you've already experienced the service."

You were about to retort, but the chance to argue was abruptly shut down when the devil's finger slid inside of you, teasing your clit so skillfully that you had to raise your hand to cover your mouth. Yet, you couldn't quite muffle the soft, moaning sound. Raphael responded to your expression with another laugh, leaning forward to plant a kiss on your smooth neck. His two fingers did a good job of continuously stoking your emotions.

The changes in your facial expressions and the huskiness in your voice as his finger part your fold and glide against your slick. provided more entertainment for Raphael than any other time you and he faced off.

The heat enveloped your entire body. You could barely feel anything except the sinful delight and the hot breath beside your ear. Raphael's lips traced along your flushed skin, leaving marks everywhere. You couldn't stop the soft moans escaping through your parted lips anymore. Your mind is driven by escalating desires.

"Judging by the moans, I'd consider it a compliment," Raphael teased, seizing the opportunity to mock you. His hand pressed against your back, drawing your body closer to his. He enjoyed watching your contorted face with delight while his fingertips brushed against wet lips between your legs

He knows you're on the edge. and the devil never misses the opportunity to tease his favorite little mouse. Raphael abruptly stopped all actions, flashing a smirk at your frustrated expression and the lingering arousal he had induced.

"Raphael!"

You hissed at him, while Raphael remained feignedly indifferent. His claws dragged slowly over every curve of your body, leaving marks all over your skin, intentionally marking his ownership. It incited your desires slowly and ruthlessly. You knew he wanted to provoke you, but your mind was too empty to retort or even to curse back.

"I want to hear you beg me."

Raphael held your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. Both authoritative and arrogant, you've always detested the way his voice held power, but now it sent tremors through your body. Emotions surged, nearly overwhelming you. You closed your eyes briefly, feeling embarrassed, wanting to disappear and be unnoticed.

Your voice is trembling desperately with every word that falls from your lips. "I need more," You whimpered. "Please, Raphael."

In the blink of an eye, before you could even react, you realized your role had been flipped beneath Raphael's frame. On the soft silk-covered bed, his arms became bars that caged you tightly. His rough lips aggressively bruise your lips with a taste of intense heat and the sting of expensive wine, intoxicating you more than Hooligan's ale.

"I have a new proposal for you," Raphael whispered, his lips linger at your ears. "I'll make you remember today forever. I will fuck you in a way no one in Faerûn has ever made you feel."

The hot breath brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "And in exchange for the extraordinary experience I'll give you after this, you'll belong to me and me alone."

‘It's unfair’. You gritted your teeth, suppressing the urge with boiling emotions. "You're so evil," you cussed, certain that he intended to torment you cruelly. with such an inequitable proposition, while you were closer to the edge

He wouldn't explicitly force you, but he wouldn't give you the chance to reject it either. Just like a true devil who seeks maximum benefit for himself in every situation.

"Of course, I am very evil." Raphael smiled, gladly accepting your compliment. "You should understand this is a privilege for you. Just know how honored you are that I lower myself to fuck you."

Raphael never let go of his haughtiness, even when it came to sex. Both Incubus and succubus knew well that Raphael never played the role of giving to anyone; he's only indulging in the pleasures offered by others. It wasn't his duty to bestow sexual pleasure on those inferior to him.

But with you, it was entirely different. From every devil he had ever shared a bed with, the moment you pleaded with him with a soft, desperate voice, and with tears of pure joy pooling in those beautiful eyes, Raphael immediately realized that this was the moment he had been waiting for.

He enjoyed excessively the fact that he could make you cry out and beg him desperately. It pleased him immensely to show you how much he could make you submit to him.

Greed is one of the sins and the essence of every devil. Spending time with you has awakened Raphael's greed without you even realizing it. He knows well that he wants more than this and even more. He won't stop until you - both body and soul - become his completely.

"Make it worth my while, and I'll consider the offer again."

Your response widened the devil's smile. His intimidating golden eyes gleamed with a terrifying allure. "Challenge accepted."

There was no warning, as the mere chance to tease you was what Raphael enjoyed the most. He grabs your hips, pulls you close, and inserts his swollen tip into your entrance in one swift motion. The devil chuckled softly at your stunned expression, followed by a faint curse, until there was just a moan as he began moving slowly and heavily.

The rough touch of the devil's skin clashed with the softness of your thighs, repeatedly and rhythmically. Every movement accentuated the spot of ecstasy that made you groan louder. It filled you with an unexpected pleasure that you never imagined feeling. Raphael didn't exaggerate when he said he would fuck you in a way that no one in Faerûn could. He knew exactly what to do to make you feel so good that there was no way to forget this day. And it seemed like he was enjoying himself as well. Raphael breathed heavily, lingering at your hips, his girth slowly stretched your slick silky wall, embracing his length perfectly, as if it were made for him—for him alone.

"My little mouse... do you still want to say that I'm more boring than these prostitutes here?" Raphael didn't hesitate to mock you, alluding to your previous insults. making you want to claw at his smug face or slap his arrogant mouth, but all you could do was tightly grip the bedsheet to vent the tingling that he relentlessly injected into you. Your helpless state seemed to please him so much. When you felt his cock inside you trembling and expanding slightly more, causing your legs to tremble when he slammed deeper into you

Seeing you overwhelmed by the taste of pleasure he gave you, Raphael felt even more delighted. His lips moved down to your neck, kissing and biting the skin aggressively, causing you to flinch with pain. But it also ignited your arousal. Excitement flowed through your core as Raphael continued to nibble on your neck. with each thrust into the tight, warm of your walls.

That's not enough for him. His fingers run up your legs, climbing up until they reach your chest. He squeezes the soft, pliant breast with full force. leaving bruises that you're sure will be evident the next morning. Yet, you don't protest. Deep down, you enjoy what he does, especially when Raphael's fingers tease your tits, increasing your arousal almost to madness. As his thick hips press against you, driving you nearly breathless with the overwhelming pleasure.

"Do you like it? Little mouse," Raphael asks, though he knows full well you're not in a state to converse anymore at this point.

Your arms cling tightly to his broad shoulders, gasping with the overwhelming feeling flooding your senses. His forceful push makes your head spin, almost causing you to lose consciousness at every moment. Raphael's thrust becomes more intense, as if he knows you're about to reach climax, tempting you to scream again. However, Raphael's lips cut in before you could, slipping his tongue into your mouth, tasting you with a messy, tantalizing kiss and a feeling of odd intimacy.

With the final thrust, the whole world in your sight changes. Your vision blurs, lost in the mist of pleasure. You feel like you're being consumed by Raphael's touch, which expands to encompass every inch of you, inside and out.

Your nails dig into his broad shoulders. Your body trembles uncontrollably. A growl escapes Raphael's throat as he buries himself deep inside you, releasing white hot seeds of ecstasy, fulfilling and scorching your stomach, melting you until you can hardly resist, and succumbing under the complete embrace of the devil's sin.

Raphael doesn't miss watching you during this time. As your flushed face twists with lust, your rapid, ragged breaths cling to the lingering joy. Sweat covers your skin, making you shimmer and impressive. also seem so fragile and vulnerable. So fragile that he's sure he could crush you with just one finger.

But he won't do that.

Raphael muses to himself before easing himself beside you, pulling you into his arm. He finds some satisfaction in the fact that he can make you speechless for a moment. But he secretly misses the sound of your annoying voice as well

"It's time for our pact, isn't it?"

Your brow furrows slightly as you look at the devil beside you, who has reverted to his human form. This is when your consciousness begins to settle in again, along with your resentment towards Raphael. You can't help but berate yourself. You've always thought making a deal with the devil was foolish, but fucking the devil you despise is even more foolish.

And what's worse is that you don't even feel a bit of regret for what's happening.

"If being yours means I have to serve you and go out to kill someone for you, then I won't do it."

Raphael is almost laughing at your response. Despite being unarmed and vulnerable, you haven't lost your confidence, not even a little. That's why he finds you more impressive than any mortal. Because you always manage to make him intrigued.

"This isn't about your mission or mine," Raphael said, tracing his thumb along your lower lip before pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. "I just want to make sure we have these special moments like this more often, that's all."

One thing you learned about devils after encountering Raphael is that they always speak the truth, but never all of it.

You lock eyes with Raphael in his full human guise. Though there's a hint of playfulness in some of his words, you can discern the seriousness and darkness lurking beneath the veiled sentences. Though you are not entirely sure what he wants from you, you sense that he anticipates your answers more than usual.

You don't have much choice because the heroes never go back on their words. And even though you're reluctant to admit it, deep down, you too desire moments like these again.

You nod unwillingly. Your reluctant expression makes Raphael smile broadly. Your small defeats bring him greater satisfaction. Although he knows you're too stubborn and too tough to easily succumb to him, and he knows even that you'll find a way to get back at him painfully later, for sure.

But that's why he's always been infatuated with you. Your conflict with him is part of the game you've been playing all along. It's the only amusement he'll never find from anyone, except in you.

And so begins the game of cat and mouse anew between him and you. A game with no losers or winners. But this time, Raphael is confident that it will be his. whether the game or you.

Because a pact is a pact, and he'll make sure you become his most prized possession, locked within the house of hopes, you will be his trophy that no one in Faerûn can admire except him.

#baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x tav fanfiction #tav #baldurs gate tav #raphael x reader #raphael smut #bg3 smut #raphael fanfic

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astarions-darling · 6 months

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Your Eyes Can Be So Cruel

Raphael x GN!Reader I hate how there is no cutscene whether you win or lose against Raphael. Anyway, this is just a little drabble for if you lose (part of it was inspired by Labyrinth and I've borrowed some dialogue and altered it a bit) no real warnings but he is a Villain™

“And now down here comes the claw.”

You stares at the devil, his face twisted in glee as he stands above you. Lying on your stomach, you try to push yourself up on your elbows even though every muscle in your body screams in protest. Everything aches. Your skin is scorched and bleeding but the little strength you have left is used to sit up, your legs splayed to one as a hand stay firmly planted on the cold marble ground. Exhausted and bone-weary you sigh. It had been a long battle—a battle that has now been lost.

“What a clever mouse you thought you were,” says Raphael as his body shifts, the human disguise returning—not a hair out of place as he smooths down the front of his doublet. How you despise it when he appears so, and you feels he knows this. It makes him too soft and appealing, trustworthy. It’s harder to remember the devil he is with those warm eyes and soft lips. And those lips are dangerous, for his honeyed words spill so effortlessly from them and it’s all too easy to believe them. “But this is my house you’ve been scurrying around in and I’m afraid you aren’t leaving with my cheese. In fact, you will not be leaving at all.”

“Please, Raphael, I need the hammer! A deal—“

His face contorts, the unbridled rage from earlier returning, how it twists his handsome face. “No deals! I’ve been more than generous up until now.”

“Generous?” You can barely speak through a bloodied lip but you manage it. There is still the desire to fight burning low in your belly. You will not lie down like some obedient dog waiting for its master's forgiveness. Your words come out in a hiss between your teeth. “What have you done that’s generous?”

“Everything!” he roars, his eyes burning like the hells. You know his grip on control can only be held for so long, you feel the power radiating off of him. “Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that I help you with your tentacle problem and I did. You demanded that I translate your little vampling’s scars. I did. I have offered numerous times to help you. I gave you an easy and painless solution, and yet you decide to come into my home and steal from me—destroying my house in the process." He sucks in a shuddering breath through his nose, eyes hard as he stares down his nose at you. "I have not crushed you like the ungrateful vermin you are. Isn’t that generous?”

“Please, let my friends go.” There is only desperation now and you are begging. It hurts you, more than the pain inflicted against you from his earlier wrath.

“Oh, I shall let them go,” The sudden change in his voice, from sneering rage to eerie calm is more terrifying than anything else. You feels your stomach turn to knots. “Even better, I'll return them to their masters.” There is something pressing against your sides and then suddenly your body is hoisted up. You can't move your body, arms pinned to your side. The cambion slithers up behind you silently before his hand is under your chin, forcing you to look at your fallen friends before you. Your back is pressed against his and your body yearns to fall against it, you are grateful that you are frozen in place and can't submit to the whims of your weak mortal flesh.

Raphael's other hand extends before you and you watch his long fingers snap, fire and magic uncoiling from their tips. There is nothing you can do but watch, horrified, as Karlach disappears in a flurry of ash. You had promised Karlach that she would be free. You had promised.

“Zariel will be happy to have our dear Karlach back.” The words are felt against your neck and they make you shudder. His fingers click again and you watch as Shadowheart disappears as well. “I hear Shar can be quite unforgiving but I’m sure the girl will survive.” You know what is next and your eyes land on Astarion as he lies crumpled and bleeding on the floor, his pale hand outstretched toward you. “And our little vampling—“

“Don’t!” you beg. You try to break free of his hold but the pain is insurmountable when you attempt it. “Please, don’t!”

A slight squeeze at your throat. “Perhaps this can be a valuable lesson.”

The third snap of his fingers rings in your ears, the smell burning your nostrils as the vampire disappears in a cloud of ash. You know you’ll never see him again, knows that he will die. There is a yearning chasm deep in your chest as your despair eats away at you. Astarion had escaped once, you tell yourself…maybe he will escape again. Maybe they all will. But you have little hope, in fact, you have none. Your tired eyes fall on Hope, her body lifeless and face blank.

“How sad it is for our adventurer when Hope is gone.” Raphael sighs, his face now coming to rest next yours. His voice is low and tender, and his cheek is pressed against yours, how it burns your skin. “Luckily for you, my little mouse, your master will be much more forgiving than those of your rabble." The spells suddenly ends and you collapse to the ground, limbs smaching against the hard floor as tears fall down your grimy cheeks. The devil circles you slowly, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous room, until he is standing before you.

Your glance up at him, and how you wish to fall into the blackness that lingers behind your eyes. His sneering face regards you. "Yes, I have been more than generous with you. But I can be cruel." The only sound is your laboured breathing as you scowl at the devil. His lips twitch into a smile. "Now kneel.”

#.writing #bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate raphael #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #raphael fanfic

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goddness-lunafreya · 5 months

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Post to recommend the Writers of the BG3 community

Hello, how are you? Here I'm going to leave several names of BG3 fic writers that I found in my feed.

As you know, I follow Astarion and Halsin's tags the most, so the number of fics from these two is huge. However, over time I will subscribe to other fics from other Tags.

I will always update this list. (Last update 11/29)

• akirda - A great oneshot.

• autistichalsin - He must be the greatest Halsin connoisseur I've ever met.

• Azukiel - Currently writing Dadstarion, he already has my respect for that, and she's a great writer.

• bacarasbabe - Lots of fics from different fandoms

• bg_brainrot - Writes a lot about Astarion

• Dynjas - Great fics from our Daddy Bear, success my friend

• girahimu_sama - Write about Durge too

• HardingHightown - Lots of BG3 and Dragon Age facs, for fans of both

• LadyRagnelle - I don't even know how to start talking about this writer, just a connoisseur of the incredible Astarion, my inspiration

• lumienyx - Writer with many fandoms and fics

• MysticalThoughts - There's a creative BG3 fic in modern times!

• o0_TheMilkyBarKid_0o - With Restricted fics

• oharahive - Interesting oneshots and a long series still going on

• Pikapeppa - Lots of fics from different fandoms!

• PursuitsEternal - Very NSFW interesting that I really liked

• rosodoro - I recently met, you have interesting work

• thesolarangel - An Astarion/Halsin oneshot

• vampirespawn - Raphael's fics! For those looking for something different. And one from Astarion

• astarions-fangs - Writer from right here on Tumblr

• vixstarria - Writes a lot of Oneshot fics with on AO3. On her Tumblr blog she posts several fics and makes fics on requests!

• Pickel182 - There is one fic for now, but it is constantly updated and currently has several chapters

• Vashnoi - Writes fics are several different characters

• SpaceBarbarianWeird - Also post several headcanons on your Tumblr

• charmandabear - There are only two fics so far

• loadofschist - Fics with Gale and Durge

• miraculan - There are a large number of fics from different fandoms, with two from BG3

• SadinaSaphrite - Very interesting fics with Astarion

• WitchAdjacent - There's a series with your OC, it's interesting to follow

• astarioffsimpmain - Post your own fics and reblog others' fics on your Astarion Tumblr, I separated a link that will take you to one of his directly.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #ao3 fanfic #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #ao3 link #ao3 #astarion fanfic #halsin fanfic #raphael fanfic #baldur gate fanfic #fanfic reccomendation #fanfic #10/10 reccomend

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bg3fan · 5 months

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The devil you don´t know 6

Part 5

Raphael can already guess what´s been on your mind. With a smug grin, he hushes you with small kisses on your face, which distract you successfully.

Giggling, you try to push him away from you, but he only holds you tighter against him while proceeding to cover your face with his little kisses. "Come on, doesn´t my little mouse like kisses?"

He suddenly lifts you up in his arms and presses his face into your chest as you squeck and grab his shoulders, afraid to fall down.

"Raphael!" You try wiggling out of his hold but to no avail. He´s determined to bring your thoughts onto something completely different, even if it´s only for some minutes.

Suddenly there´s a knock on the door and the dwarven woman walks in. "They´ve left-" both you and the woman stare at each other with wide eyes.

Your cheeks heat up, and the whole situation makes you incredibly embarrassed. Raphael simply turns his head to his assistant while still holding you in his arms.

"That´s fine, they will come back. Everything to its proper time, Korilla." he mumbles, and the woman doesn´t even bother to ask who you are or what you´re doing here and just leaves.

The man turns around and lays you down on the bed, only for him to follow suit.

He puts his head on your chest while you try to calm down from the embarrassment. "Don´t worry, she works for me. There's no need to act coy now." he squeezes your belly while mumbling into your chest.

Your hands find their way to his hair and start petting it, to which he gives a peaceful hum.

"We still need to talk..." you whisper, hoping not to anger him again or make him run away like last time.

Sighning, he props himself up so that each hand is by your sides while his knees are beside your hips, practically caging you in.

"I don´t want to freak you out... You're my little mouse, and what will become of me when I scare my precious mouse away?" his voice and eyes hold so much sadness it´s as if he is certain that you´ll leave him for whatever he's about to reveal to you.

You offer him a small smile, "but I´ve promised you to stay with you, no matter what..."

Raphael gives you a sad smile to that, not believing you.

Suddenly, fire wraps around his body, and a high-pitched scream leaves your body as you shut your eyes and take your hands away.

Hesitantly, you open your eyes again, and before you, is a red-skinned devil with four horns.

Opening your mouth only to shut it close because you do realize that it's your Raphael, but why is he a devil?

His wings spread behind him so the only thing you´re seeing right now is red.

Slowly, you touch his face with your fingertips as tears well up in your eyes. Raphael shuts his eyes in pain. He can´t bear seeing your tears, especially if it´s because of him.

You feel his heat radiating from his body, and you´ve never guessed that the presence of a devil could be this comforting, but somehow you feel betrayed and lied to.

"Why haven´t you told me sooner?"

Raphael opens his eyes again, sighning he leans into your hand. "Because that what we had was too precious to destroy." He admits truthfully. And the way he's speaking as if your relationship is over breaks your heart.

Your mind should be racing. You should be mad for hiding this, and the fact that this whole time, he has been a devil whom you've shared intimate moments with, should be scaring you.

Yet you still trust him.

Biting your lip as you blink away the small tears. Your hands wander above to his horns, touching them softly to which Raphaels eyes brighten up.

"Will you accept me? "

His voice breaks, and you can't help the ache in your heart. "Of course I will, youve showen me much more kindness and love than any other human I know, but don't think you'll get away with this." You try to lighten the mood.

You sit up from under him and he does it as well. Only now do you realize how much bigger his devil body is even though he's still sitting.

You take his hand into yours and admire his claws, wondering if he could still be as gentle as in his human body or if he might accidentally scratch you with them.

"I need to be honest," you start "I'm happy that you're not hiding a family or an another wife beside me" you take a deep breath "but from now on you'll need to be truthful with me."

Raphael shifts closer with a relived expression. "This," he gestures to his body, "is the only thing I've been lying to you about and the reason I'm like this is because my mother died was because she decided to have a kid from an archdevil Mephistopheles... who is my father."

You bring your hand up to his cheek while you squeeze his hand. "It must have been so hard for you."

Slowly accepting the fact that even if he's a devil, he's still your raphael. The one who is always so gentle, polite, and always there for you.

He picks you up and seats you on his lap, hugging you very tightly as if you're about to run away. Your head tugged under his chin, and after some seconds you can feel his tears falling on your hair.

His body is trembling, and you guess this has been affecting him more than you would have imagined. Your hands wrap around him and pet his back while his wings come around you two, wrapping you two up.

You don't dare to say anything because you know how much he hates vulnerability. He probably thinks that it's a sign of weakness, so the best you can do now is to just stay by his side and let him have his moment.

#raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 #raphael #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael imagine #bg3fan #raphael x reader #raphael fanfic #raphael fic

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certifieddilfenjoyer · 1 month

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A Statement of a Soul (Ao3)

80k words (ongoing), character study, Raphael vs Mephistopheles (not a loser Raphael fic, nuh-uh), x fem!Reader, Slow (I mean it) burn, Enemies to Lovers, unstoppable force vs unstoppable force, you are between the hammer and the anvil

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Raphael stands in front of you, enjoying the view before him. His gaze lingers on your weakened form, on your blood stained chin and tired, almost life-less pale face. It has been only a few days since the last… incident, but you look a lot worse than that. Some aspects of your poor condition are merely an illusion amplified by the melancholic lighting in the cell, Raphael realizes.

You manage to raise your head up, the back of it leaning onto the brick wall behind you. You hiss and lift your eyelids with extreme caution, careful not to ignite your already protesting senses, fighting against the powerful migraine. You inhale sharply through your nostrils and your eyes water, blurring the figure of Raphael, blending it into an incomprehensible mess of colors.

The devil traces his shapely fingernails on the bottom of his chin, chuckling softly. He takes his sweet time to switch into his rehearsed pose, taking a bit of air into his lungs as he prepares to start a conversation. A conversation he has been planning for at least past twenty-four hours, with all the possible outcomes and your responses as well as emotions accompanying a mortal such as yourself.

When his muscles move to stretch his lips into a satisfied smirk, his eyes scorch through the dimmed light of the cell. Your head falls back to the chest and you lose consciousness once again.

A small sound escapes his lips, as he cuts off the sentence he was about to greet you with. He stares at you in silence, watching your lifeless form before rolling his half-closed eyes.

'Never sticking to the script,' he thinks and sighs.

#raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #raphael fanfic

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cambion-companion · 6 days

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Echoes of Orpheus

I wanted to write. It's been a while! Exploring the idea that after Tav dies, Raphael isn't okay with just letting their immortal soul slip away.

Raphael x Tav!reader (gn)

The Hero of Baldur's Gate they had named you, dragging you time and again back into the spotlight of a fame you never wanted.

Survival.

That was all you had wanted. The will to escape the worm inside your head had evolved and taken on life of its own until you were teaming up with angels, devils, druids and warlocks to take down an Elder Brain.

With glory and infamy alike you had lived.

Just like every mortal, your body grew weak around the soul it harbored and eventually passed on.

Like a gossamer thread, your soul was freed from its mortal coil, slipping into the next world gratefully. You felt light and young, strong again.

Echoes and shadows surrounded you, an inexorable pull drawing you down into unknown space and time.

Stars whirled around your vision, hues of azure and lilac danced and merged to create a midnight sky. Up ahead, you saw a white light and knew that was your destination.

But something was wrong.

The gravitational pull guiding you to safe harbor lessened, another sensation arose. You heard your name whispered behind your ear, turning your head to see only a vast abyss that drew fear into your heart.

A familiar smell, a purple light replacing the white-golden rays up ahead. You willed yourself toward it, apprehension and excitement roiling through your being.

So close now. You reached out and a large hand wrapped around your wrist, dragging you forward with a great heave.

"Raphael." Your first words uttered since your death. In his ironclad grip you felt almost alive again, awakening the tethers to your mortal life. To him.

He wore the crown of Karsus, the source of that purple glow. The silver metal twisted perfectly amongst his sharp horns, his eyes familiar and blazing hellfire-gold.

"Not even a word of farewell?" Raphael did not relinquish his grasp on you. "I taught you better manners than that."

You did not know what to say, shock holding your tongue as you fought to understand how he could interrupt the natural course of your spirit. "The crown." You whispered.

Raphael nodded. "I understand death has not dulled your wit." He intoned dryly, then tugged you a bit further into his plane. "Nor will it succeed in taking you from me. We still have work to do, you and I."

"You have no right to my soul, I made no deal with you."

"Therein you are most grievously in error." Raphael smiles, dangerous and sharp, the touch of his hand becoming more heavy and real with each passing moment you stayed in his presence. "I am your past. I am your present. And I am your future, little mouse. No mortal frailty will alter that law."

Another tug, the draw to him inescapable as it had been in your previous life. Your palm found the front of his chest, pressing until you could feel the fabric of his velvet tunic.

Raphael tucked a finger beneath your chin and raised your gaze to his once more, his tone softening to that familiar sultry purr. "I will give you life anew, more than any god could offer. You were mine since the moment I laid eyes on you, little mouse."

The old nickname sparked a flame within you, defiance and desire. "I will not be trapped in one of your gilded cages, or placed on a pedestal to be drooled over by your incubus."

"There you are." Raphael squeezed your chin before releasing you, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Already coming back to yourself, it seems. And no, dear...you will be put to use, not shelved with my other prizes." He held out a hand. "Now come. Worlds anew wait for us to conquer."

#raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #raphael fanfic #raphael baldur's gate 3 #it's been a whiiiile #raphael #raphael the cambion #bg3 fan #bg3 fanfiction

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hopeforkitten · 1 month

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Raphael × His favorite tailor and Raphael × His knitting creative mouse

• Think about Raphael and his favorite tailor. You were just a small employee of a rich atelier owner, specializing in ornate clothes, so your clients were more often girls. And it was easy to work with them, these are frivolous beauties who like to chat and it was enough to briefly agree with them while working. They also liked your ideas, they most often agreed to the first sketch of the dress, without having strict preferences.

But then Raphael appeared... A rich and demanding client who caused a lot of inconvenience to your colleagues. They told you how difficult it was to coordinate the sketch with him, how he demanded to make changes to the finished costume, forcing tailors to embroider the night on the fly, what strange conversations he leads at fittings and sometimes reads poetry. Fortunately, his money covered any whims and made him a golden client for your superiors.

However, later he drew attention to your work and asked to meet with you. So that you finish finishing a new doublet that your colleague couldn't handle. And surprisingly, Raphael was not so frightening. A rich and grown man, which is unusual for you, but he has such a soft voice and he smelled like your usual female clients, even sweeter, you are used to the smell of fresh herbs and flowers, and the bright smell of cherries appeared unusual to you.

His requests were more modest than a girl's, but he demanded maximum accuracy. And ... it turned out to be so pleasant to please him. You were used to the reactions of girls, they smiled, sometimes squeaked and clapped their hands, circled in front of the mirror. But Raphael's reactions...

in principle, he was extremely handsome and his very presence made the room hotter. A magnificent male silhouette, long legs, a wide back and perfect posture, and all these advantages were emphasized by clothes.

And his face... how he examined the costume on the mannequin and on himself, how his gaze changed from picky to satisfied and he blossomed into a contented expression, looking at you in the mirror, making butterflies flutter in your stomach.

He loved talking to you and you trusted him. In fact, not many people were kind to you, and no one rated you as highly as he did, for the owner of the atelier you were just a good tool. And in case of a fault, if you had ruined expensive materials, you would have been in trouble. Raphael might notice it. He loves to coo with you, and it is unwise to refuse a client, he calls you his golden bird, a precious little sewing machine and the only one who can satisfy his desires... and then he sees bruises on your thin arms when your sleeve is accidentally pulled up. You say that it's okay, you ruined expensive fabrics and gold threads and that this punishment is natural.

And if you continue to be beaten, then he will have to take you away. It's simple, Raphael just needs to scare your master, throw him a purse of gold and that's it, he can set up his creative bird in his House of Hope.

Or a slightly different situation. A terrible disaster has happened in Baldrus Gate, people turn into creatures with tentacles, and a huge brain takes off from the center of the city, destroying your entire familiar world to the ground. But before you die in this mess, your favorite client appears and drags you into the portal. The unpleasant incident with the revival of the Illithid empire is not at all a reason to abandon your favorite tailor.

A lot of new details open up for you, like the diabolical nature of Raphael. Hell is scary and the people in the corridors of the house don't inspire confidence, but you still have your favorite client with you, right? The kindest and most attentive person in your life. You will be allocated a room with everything that a person of your profession can dream of, you also have a lot of free time, you can fully relax, eat and sleep, which is an unprecedented luxury. Even if there wasn't much sunlight in your life before, but now you see something besides threads and fabric, such as books. Raphael still loved talking to you and now had the opportunity to leave you a book to fully discuss it at the next meeting.

• anddddd Raphael and the creative mouse

I really like to think of half-fairy characters with special magical abilities, like creating artifacts. You have turned away from this magical girl and she is already handing you a tiny flower, enchanted for good luck.

But your creativity more often irritates Raphael and Haarlep...

Raphael. you have to look at him, you have to get carried away with him, it's unthinkable that he passes by you, and you don't even look up, it's outrageous.

However, Raphael is dissatisfied in silence, your talents will still be useful to him and from an aesthetic point of view your flowers are quite pleasant, But Haarlep ...

Haarlep is dissatisfied demonstratively, he will not allow you to just sit on his bed and confuse the threads. He will make many attempts to distract you by pawing and dropping you on the bed, tickling you and harming your creativity in every possible way. If it works out, he agrees to somehow hug you or put you on top of him while you knit, if not, then you will have to change your location, having quarreled with him.

I like to imagine this magic as knitted flowers that we can turn into talismans like those carved out of stone.

"Why are you knitting roses again? In the house of hope, there will soon be no free surface on which a vase with a bouquet does not stand."Haarlep is grumbling watching you. (answer: because Raphael likes roses, and so do you. and you like Raphael)

And I chose Tav Drow only because they can work with cobwebs, so they can knit. And my girl will knit the finest lace for her husband's shirts, yes.

#raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep #raphael fanfic #Raphael imagine #bg3 fanfiction #Raphael fanfiction

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seraphimaa · 25 days

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Doll for a day - Part 2

Soft(ish)!Raphael x fem!Tav x Haarlep

Raphael sets out the terms for his forgiveness. After all, it’s not nice to feel left out.

Raphael makes her fuck his incubus in front of him and then tests her dedication.

Warnings: selfish idiots with feelings

PART 1

She can’t stop her face from cringing. It’s all the confirmation he needs and he falls into silence, processing. He is furious, yes, but he can’t help the faint relief that is flooding him. The board is still in play. Her mouth forms the shapes of letters but nothing seems to come out. She takes a breath, utters only the word, “leaving”, like he’s supposed to find reassurance in it, and turns to flop onto her stomach, beginning to drag herself by her arms towards the edge of the bed.

“No.” She feels his thighs clench to hold her own, the thick ropes of muscle halting her movement. Her face hits the silk and she lets herself simply collapse in defeat under the master of the house. “What the hells is wrong with you? You come into my house, look at my things, touch my things, fuck my things.” He’s spitting with rage the more he rambles and with every word she pushes her head further and further into the covers, half in an attempt to smother herself.

“Then you think you can just what? Scamper off? Tell me, Tav, is your sheer aptitude for being this insufferable nature, or nurture? Did somebody drop you on your head as an infant, or were you simply born this way?”

“Born...” Her words are barely comprehendible through the bedding. He grunts in acknowledgement and takes a break from frowning at the detailing in the wallpaper to look down at the fleshy heap. She looks pathetic and entirely resigned.

“And what, on all of the planes, were you ever hoping to achieve, pray tell?” Her shoulders shrug limply. “Hm.” He hums, unimpressed, and lets her stew in the silence until he hears her again, clearly desperate to move things along .

“No reason.”

“Oh thank goodness,” her ears perk at the happy tone, “I find so much comfort in knowing you would cause all of this chaos for no reason at all.” Never mind.

“And what did you plunder and soil?” He sniffs indignantly, “other than my sheets and incubus.”

He expects another short, mumbled response but instead he feels her begin to shake under him rhythmically. For a brief moment, he thinks she’s laughing like a maniac but then he hears her sobs.

Her head lifts just enough for her cries to ring clearly. “I’m sorry! Okay? I payed that lady to open the portal. I don’t know what I was thinking. I promise. I wasn’t going to touch anything, just look. Then I ended up here and you were here too and you were so nice but it wasn’t you but he looked so good and he felt so good and I didn’t want to stop, I couldn’t, I don’t know what I was thinking-I wasn’t thinking!” It all comes out in a jumble and her head flops down again as she shudders in another wave of sobs. Haarlep’s tail can be heard wagging against the sheets absently, only paying attention the indirect praise aimed his way.

For what feels like the hundredth time in one day, he heaves a massive sigh. It feels like an eternity that the scene drags on. Raphael ponders whether this is all a cruel, fated karma playing out. He considers what sins it were that landed him in the constant circus show that he appeared to ringlead daily. He looks at the three of them, on the bed, and thinks that they would fit perfectly on renaissance style painting. Haarlep is crouched with knees to the side, looking every part the demonic gargoyle of a creature that Raphael considers him to be, tail wagging in the air and looking very pleased with himself. His mouse is splayed dramatically on the bed like a tortured damsel, wailing and he is slumped in his own pose of enduring anguish. He considers giving her a further tongue wagging but she appears to be torturing herself just fine for now. Hells, you’d think she was the victim here.

Her sobs hiccup as she feels Raphael twist and rise from the bed. She cranes, terrified to see what kind of torture he is about to impose on her but her puffy, wet face is met with the curve of his bare spine and hips as he strides to the desk against right wall. She definitely doesn’t look at the jiggle of fat on his ass as he stomps over and throws himself back into the chair. She definitely doesn’t look anywhere in particular as he reclines back, neck craned at a sharp angle over the back of the oak. His eyes snap to hers, and he crosses his legs with a frown, and she averts her gaze to the wall beside his head for no related reason. He tears open a drawer and brings out a dusty bottle of vintage. He busies himself with uncorking the bottle, and pulls out a glass. He fills it without any grace, almost overflowing the rim then knocks it back, taking his time before he swallows it down. She’s tempted to ask him what comes next but the withering look he shoots her way as she intakes air to begin makes the words die on her tongue. She swallows with an awkward nod and settles her face back into the covers. She is good at ruminating and wallowing. This is fine. Even the incubus seems to pick up on the sudden lack of energy in the room and he flops back wriggling around, fluttering his wings and swishing his tail, as he gets into a comfortable position. His leg thumps her own and he whines until she shuffles over, half hanging over the edge. He mimics the brooding duo and lets out a sigh, his own airy and perfectly content.

Raphael is surprisingly the first to break the peace.

“Why did you sleep with it?”

There’s hesitation in his tone, almost like he couldn’t decide if he truly wants the answer. She is completely caught off guard and lifts her head after some thought, enough to respond but not enough to have to face him as as she does.

“It was just a really bad mistake.”

Haarlep seems to take offence to this, his tail whipping her leg as it beats back and fourth in protest but he stays silent, intent on listening to this play out.

“No,” his tone is wary but he speaks like this is something important to him, “you knew the risk. As much as you would like to galavant through life like a court jester, you are smart. What was it exactly that made you decide to take that miscalculated risk?”

“I don’t know! I was, I was just…” She seems to sway between deflection and truth but eventually finds her answer.

“I was just desperate.” He cocks an eyebrow as if deciding on how to perceive her words but when her face emerges pink and swollen from the sheets, intense and ugly, altogether striking, he sees the burning honestly. “Really desperate.”

“Excuse me!” Haarlep cranes to look at her, wings flaring, entirely offended. He is not reading the silent layers of communication happening amongst the rude guests of in his little sanctuary. “And just what, exactly, are you trying to imply? Don’t act like I didn’t have you mewling happy as a kitten, eyes crossed in bliss as you bounced yourself around dumb and drunk on my cock. Don’t act like you didn’t throw yourself at the chance to come undone under me, specifically. You said that you needed him, me, raw and undiluted. No rude lies on my bed, please.” It is the first time, in the short span they’d shared together, that she’d seen the fiend seem truly displeased. They both pointedly ignore his bruised ego and the implications of his words.

“And what was it, exactly, you were so desperate for?” She gives a small shake of her head in protest of what he is trying to drag out of here.

“I just wanted to be touched.”

“Then you would have gone to the brothel. Try again.”

“I wanted to be touched by someone who I knew.”

“Then you would have crawled your way into the tent of one of your willing companions long ago, I’m sure. I’m tired, little mouse.” She builds her courage enough to glance at him through damp lashes and he really is slumped in utter defeat. He’s nursing a new glass, and his face has never looked so tired. It feels violating to witness him like this, even more so than seeing him naked ever had. he takes in her face, full of fear and pain. She looks like saying it might break her, like it’s the last thing she wants to do. She looks at him like he is cruel, and she is begging him to spare her. His face hardens and he drains the last in his glass, not hesitating to empty the bottle in its place.

“I..” he trails off, before shaking his head and standing up, throwing his hand out dismissively.

“Forget I said anything. Go. Get dressed. I’ll organise a portal out.” She openly balks at him. “But what about-“ he doesn’t wait for her to finish.

“Please. You’ve done enough. Spare both our dignities any further blows for one day and just go.” He falls back into his chair, tapping his finger on the desk impatiently, staring into the liquid crimson in his hand. She swings herself up, sitting with her back to him and she is glad for the fact because once again, to her frustration, her eyes blur with tears. She feels like everything is crashing down upon her and the reality of the day is setting in, finally. This is unfixable. She’d taken a running jump over every boundary they constructed and respected until now. It was like a game. The flirting, the teasing, the goading. It was relentless, but they both played by the same unspoken rules. They were both smarter than to fall for the words the other spun. It had felt, in a way, safe. But she isn’t smart. Somewhere along the way she’d come to anticipate their next encounter. She felt a flutter in her stomach when he smiled down at her, so dashing and smug. She played their conversations over and over again when alone, trying to spy a crack in his performance, a subtle sign that he harboured his own strange fondness for her. She’d replaced the face of the imaginary companion with his when he brought herself to completion late at night. If she leaves now, there’s no going back. She decides to speak before she can change her mind. If she walks away then he’d take this as her final answer. It would mean whatever they had would be over.

“No.” She stands from the bed. She ignores the withering look she shoots her and strides around the bed. “I’m not going. You can’t make me.” He is close to reminding her that this is very much not the case but she keeps coming closer, stopping when her legs bump his knees and suddenly her hand is around the glass, brushing his, as she pulls it from his grip and tips it back. The liquid seeps around the seam and drizzles down her chin, falling and painting her nude frame. She finishes it with a gasp and sets it back into the desk, he holds his breath as she leans over him but she keeps her gaze detached from his. She plonks herself onto the bed, facing him.

“I was desperate for you. I just wanted you. I couldn’t have it so I took what I could. Im a greedy, selfish, depraved asshole and I know I really messed everything up but you can’t just send me away. You have to forgive me. I’m not leaving here until you forgive me. I’ll stay right here, as long as it takes, but you have to tell me what it is that I need to do. Please, Raphael, how do I fix it?”

She begins so doubt herself the longer he remains catatonic and brooding but at last he humours her.

“You’ve found a way to rewind time, my sweet little fool?” She shakes her head but isn’t willing to give up now that she had his attention.

“Without hindsight I’d have done it again, to be honest. Something else. Realistic, maybe.” She’s slowly gaining back that deplorable attitude and confidence.

“Watch your mouth, mouse. Remember exactly what has landed you here. If you want my forgiveness then I should know exactly what I am forgiving.” She quirks a brow at this, feeling an uneasy flutter at the way his face morphs to a determined smile, as if setting a challenge he expects her to fail.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well,” he crosses one leg over the other and his posture is creeping back into its usual confidence, “how could I ever forgive you when you went behind my back and now, when asked to simply take responsibility and admit to everything, you wail like a bairn. One would be led to believe that it was your form that had been violated so rudely from across the planes from all this hysteria. It’s madness.” They glare at each other as he lays his condition before her.

“I need to even the playing field, Tav. Any embarrassment you have caused me will be returned tenfold. You see, I’m starting to feel rather left out. Like the only one not in on your little joke. You will show me as everything that happened after you entered this room. Your recreation must be convincing enough to make me believe the words you say and you will show me every detail of how it happened.”

He watches as she rises at once with a yelp.

“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?”

“Haarlep does love to put on a show. Quite the performer. All you need to do is read the lines as they were written. You should be familiar with them as you did write them yourself, did you not?” Haarlep lets out a happy sound behind her. She falls to her knees, reaching for his legs.

“Please. Eternal torture, death, anything but this.”

His foot kicks to smack her beggar hands away.

“Oh feeling embarrassed? Humiliated? Violated? My, my, mouse, quite a turn of a tables, is it not?”

She glares up and tries to feign dignity as she clambers back onto her feet.

“And if I do it then everything will go back to normal? Forgiven and forgotten.” He considers her phrasing.

“Forgiven? Why of course. I am a man of my word after all.” She puffs herself up and turns, making her way to behind the pool partition. She emerges from the far side, walking in an unintentionally exaggerated manner, every single movement screaming discomfort. She gasps loudly in surprise at the incubus on the bed, lounging back in character.

“Gracious, Raphael, your buxom bosom is exposed to the elements.” She raises her hand to her forehead, feigning as if to faint at the sight. It draws a giggle from Haarlep and a groan from Raphael. Can’t please everyone, she supposes.

“That’s strike one. On the third I’ll drop you into the middle of the sea with a snap of my fingers. I swear it.” She gawks at him as he sneers at her, entirely unimpressed. He was definitely not in the mood.

At his instruction, she begins the scene agin, from the top. This time she echos her words, verbatim.

“Ah, Raphael! Why…are you dressed like that?” She was not born for the stage, but it will do. Haarlep is bristling with excitement as he begins his part of the act. Ah, Roleplay! How exciting!

“My, my. Is that a little mouse skittering through my house?” His grin is as devilish as she remembers it. “How very naughty. Come to serve yourself to the cat? What a surprising course of events indeed.” She studies him as she recites his greeting to her just as he had.

“You’re not Raphael. You look different. Younger. Who are you really?” Haarlep smirks.

“I’m impressed. Very perceptive of you, indeed.” He raises onto his knees, legs spread and muscles rippling as he balances his weight. His abdomen is adorned with keratin ridges leading and pointing down to-no. She wasn’t looking there. She had, but she will safeguard the shreds remaining of her dignity where she can. He doesn’t have to know that.

“My name is Haarlep. You’d do well to remember it for you may just find me drawing it from your lips, like prayer. Very soon.” His hands are spread wide, inviting her to bask in his form. He look like he’s carved from scarlet marble. Like an angel. She instantly remembers exactly how she’d fallen to ruin to quickly. He’s so convincing that she almost forgets that she hasn’t really been taken back to that moment. She does not have to fake the way she freezes under charm of the incubus.

“The master must attend to business. I’m afraid he’s currently buried so deep into his work. You should know that he likes to finish very quickly.”

Raphael grunts, storing this for when he next wanted to berate the demon spawn. Haarlep breaks character to throw a glare over his shoulder.

“What? You said to recreate it exactly.”

“Shut up, Harlot.” He sighs, waving his hand. “Continue.”

The incubus’s gaze is instantly locked back onto hers as he resumes his act and again, he drinks her in. it’s like everything else in the room disappears.

“How lucky you are little mouse. He should not be back for quite some time. You’re all alone with me.” She holds her ground, as dangerous as he looks when he falls onto his hands and begins to prowl towards her. “I propose a little game. One I simply insist you must play before you go. If you don’t, well then I’d just have to assume we’re not friends. If were not friends then you’d be intruding and I would simply have to tell.” Haarlep, and reaches to grab her hands, giving them a light squeeze. She’d looked so scared the first time.

“Come on. I promise it’s not a mean game. I won’t make you do anything bad. I promise. Trust me. Play with me.” His smile is so sweet and gentle that she melts all over again.

“O-ok.”

“Oh goodie! Here are the rules. I ask you one question. Just one! You must tell me the truth. I will know if you lie to me. That’s all.” She frowns, not believing that it could be so easy.

“Oh come now. I won’t tell a soul. Nobody will ever know. It’ll be our little secret. I promise.” She nods and the breath leaves her as the incubus surges towards her. She doesn’t flinch this time, as his face brushes hers. Instead of going for the kiss he teases near her open mouth, he presses his lips to her ear, hissing his question.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

As she had before, she turns, locking eyes with the sultry, demonic slits. Their faces touch from proximity. True to her actions, instead of answering aloud, she closes the distance. She’d been so lost in the spell he must have cast on her when they’d met. There was no other explanation for why she’d been so overcome. But then, why was she feeling it all over again?

The incubus sighs against her mouth as their tongues dance and she’s pulled on top of him. He had undressed her as she lapped the venom straight from his mouth but they are both already naked this time. She grinds and squirms on top of him as the venom begins to seep straight to her head and loins. A heat spreads through her abdomen, hot as coals, and she can feel the trial she’s drooling onto his hard abdomen as she grinds against the rough, leathery skin. The room spins and that drunk feeling washes over her all over again.

She almost forgets that they are not alone, so focussed on the forked tip of his tongue playing with hers and the friction his scaled body is offering. He flips them around and it makes her stomach clench as he pins her below himself. She pants as he pulls away from her, desperately trying to catch her breath and ground herself in reality. Her eyes open and her stomach flops again when she sees Raphael, watching her intently, upside down. Their eyes lock and his lips part slightly as he looks down at her. wild and flushed, completely under the effects of the tainted saliva.

Haarlep fills her view again, coming back down to capture her lips. His hands brush her, his fingers curling though her hair as his thumbs dance over her cheeks. He cradles her face, joining them once more. His hands trail down, one travelling her collar bone and down her arm. It captures her hand in his. The other trails from her collar bone, fingers teasing against the fat of her breast as it tickles down and comes to caress the hardened bud. She whines into the kiss as the smouldering heat flickers to burning and another wave of slick dools from her. His fingers pinch and flick as she grinds and thrusts up at him, desperate for more. She needs to be closer. She needs him inside. He growls a laugh as his hips slam back on top of hers, pinning her to the mattress. Gods, now she understands how they ruined the sheets.

“What an enthusiastic answer, little mouse. Have you been waiting for this? To feel me on top of you?” The first time he’d asked she’d been completely taken by the fantasy that he really was Raphael but now, she was absently aware of his presence elsewhere. His hand tails down the curve of her stomach, toying at the mound of her push, not quite close enough to where she needed it. Now he was truly Haarlep in her eyes and she burned for him all the same.

“Say it. Say that you’re desperate for me. Admit now that I was the only one that you wanted when you came here, that you wouldn’t have done this for any other. I won’t touch you again until you take back your cruel words from before.” She lets out a yelp, squirming with fury and glaring daggers into his beautiful face.

“You didn’t say that!” The incubus giggles and raises his eyebrows, waiting.

“Strike two. Last warning.”

“WHAT? That was him!”

“At least he stayed in character.”

The incubus is all shades of smug, tail wagging.

“Ugh. Fine.” A finger dipping just a breath from her clit drags her back into under his spell and he hums in anticipation.

“Yes,” she chokes, “I only wanted you. I only needed you. I just want you to want me too.” The words pull a hiss from the cambion who can’t deny himself the sincerity, for once, he hears in her voice and knows that her words are for no other than himself. Haarlep hums again, pleased. His finger rewards her, brushing over her clit and her hips jump as she gasps. He giggles again, and squeezes down on her hand. His finger circles around before dipping between the soaked, swollen lips. She quakes and sings out so sweetly as the incubus works to undo her. Raphael’s hand wanders like an independent entity over his clenched thigh, until it finally comes to rest on his groin, fingers ghosting at the base of his hardening length. He watches the flashes of her pleasure revealed to him through the flapping cocoon of wings curled over her. His hand, not by his own volition wraps around himself and he hisses again. His mind is plagued by the memory of how tight and wetly she’d wrapped around him and his hand feels like a pitiful substitute. Nevertheless, he finds his it working slowly, squeezing up and down his weeping cock. His sighs are lost in the chorus of the two menaces on his bed, singing so beautifully.

“My, my. Don’t you two play nicely together. I can see that any worries I may have had that this was a one sided encounter were truly misguided. It seems you both posses no higher rational thinking than the drive of your genitals. I can see why you two get along so well now. It makes perfect sense.” He’s talking more to himself than anyone else but his cock throbs at the whimper it pulls from her anyway. She comes back to her senses enough to realise that she has not yet given Haarlep any attention, too completely lost in the endless throes of pleasure he was wracking upon her. Her hand comes down and wraps around his length, pumping it with desperation, eager to make him feel nearly as good as he did her. The incubus keens and grins into the crook of her neck. He feels the spark of ecstasy from his master as his hips jerk from the seat at the ghost of her touch. His master is already worn out tonight. His hand comes to wrap around hers, halting its motion.

“Ah, ah, mouse. I think we might need to improvise. Wouldn’t want the show to finish before scheduled.” She tries to understand the implications of his words as he flips her over, pulling her ass high into the air. Her eyes are closed as she feels the fiend position behind her and she waves her rump through the air, drunkly whining at the lack of attention. Her eyes shoot open, mouth falling slack as for the third time that night, the shape of Raphael’s cock slides without warning inside of her. Her vision is filled with the man in question, teeth clenched as he takes the sight of them in, cock in trembling hand.

The incubus rocks his hips without urgency. She moans, long and low, with every drag his cock as it carves and stretches her walls around it. One hand is driving into her spine, bending her up and onto him while the other wraps around her hair, pulling her head up and exposing her fully to his master. she’s pulled up and back. He bounces her, leaning back to let her land onto his upturned hips with a wet smacks. She squeals his name, shrill and pitchy.

“Fu-fuck! Haarlep!” He groans in satisfaction, wings fluttering at the sound of his name on the lips of another. For all that he screams inside to just ruin her and drive her into the mattress like last time, he’s not prepared to meet Raphael’s fury if he embarrasses him now. He keeps the pace lazy and controlled, watching the other fiend intensely and reading his pleasure for the signs that he was getting too close. It is like wrestling a feral cat, trying to hold her still and stop her from throwing herself back onto his length without abandon.

Raphael seems to recognise his nearing end as he lets go of himself entirely, gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles pale.

His voice is strained and gritty as he needles her one last time.

“You know I’m entirely unimpressed. You were so adamant that you wanted me but but it seems you’re able and willing to do little more than bounce on my incubus. It looks like maybe are just desperate, after all. Perhaps I was wrong, you will just throw yourself on any willing cock that asks nicely. how disappointing.”

She hates his stupid, condescending sneer and all at once, she has kicked and fought her way free of the now whining and complaining incubus and is clambering toward the edge. She throws herself from the bed, landing on the floor and crawls like a possessed person to his feet. Her face has an intensity to it that makes even him pause as she bares her teeth and howls in rage.

“Fuck you!”

She’s on top of him now, her hands in his hair, and his scalp burns as she yanks his head backwards.

“I wanted you! You never gave me anything!”

She spears him into her, feeling him shudder.

“You’re all I ever wanted! You’re the only person who makes me cum. You’re the only person I trust. I hate you.”

She’s riding him hard, throwing her weight into every thrust that brings her cunt to press on his pelvis.

“I fucked your incubus. You fucked me. Now I’m fucking you. Everyone can just get fucked!” He would usually be disgusted in her uncivilised language but holy shit, he’s never been so turned on. She is terrifying, and hysterical, and she looks like a queen as she rides.

“You’ve tried to humiliate me but guess what? It didn’t work. It didn’t work because I know you feel the same, don’t you? Am I the one that makes you cum too? You’re just as pathetic as me.“ He’s choking on a moan as she bring her face over his, staring down his eyes and breath venting across his neck.

“I did your fucking deal. You forgive me now. You ever want to get fucked like this, until you can’t feel your own cock, again? Then you cum for me right now and prove right now that you’re no better than me.” He wants to be angry, and hateful. To shove her off and smite her into the depths of hell but instead he flops backwards, body quaking and shuddering as he releases inside of her, her own orgasm milking his seed from him as she screams and collapses onto him.

They stare at each other, panting and trying to find their breath. She leans closer and for a terrifying second, he thinks she is going to kiss him. She doesn’t. She pushes herself up and brings herself to stand on shaking legs. The room is silent as she redresses. When she is done, she turns to look at Raphael expectantly. With a snap of his fingers a swirling portal forms before her. She pauses before disappearing through. She looks to the incubus, reclined back on the bed and gives him a small awkward wave.

“It was nice to meet you?” It’s asked like a question. He nods enthusiastically and waves back with a smile.

“Do come back! It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend! Ta ta now, little mouse.”

She looks to the cambion still flopped in the chair. He is back to his absent brooding. She opens her mouth to say goodbye, maybe apologise, maybe ask what the hells all of that means, but a pointed look tells her that she has done enough and now it is time to go. Happy to avoid the confrontation that awaits them at some point on the inevitable future, she simply gives him a nod and disappears from his home. Peace, at last.

“Well,” the incubus rises with a stretch and makes his way to the heated water of the pool, “wasn’t that just a delight. Do you think she’ll come back at some point? I really could use a play mate, you know.” Raphael again, ignores the ramblings of the lesser fiend and rises to leave. He needs his own bath and the sweet embrace of sleep. He most definitely did not have the energy to deal with the little demon right now. Before leaving the boundary of the room, he half turns to address the incubus.

“I was wondering, did you happen to-“

“Yep. I obviously wasn’t going to let her go without a little payment.” The voice of his little mouse echos from the steaming water with a laugh, like chiming bells.

“Good. Good job, Haarlep.”

He hears an excited intake of air at his praise and takes his leave.

“Get Korrilla to deal with the sheets before tomorrow. I don’t wish to be disturbed again tonight.”

He has forgiven his little mouse, as promised. That did not mean he was near ready to forget. There was no way she would keep herself from him now. Not when he was so eager to explore his new toy in the days to come.

Hello! I hope you liked it! It’s the longest thing I’ve posted and I’m terrified that it was a let down after the first part. Please lmk what you think, I welcome discussion and feedback. This was meant to be a softer, lighter take on Raphael, haarlep, and their mouse but I hope I still somewhat made them likeable and recognisable.

Also, poor Korrilla.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #haarlep #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate raphael #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael romance #raphael x reader #raphael smut #raphael fanfic #raphael #haarlep the incubus #haarlep x you #haarlep x tav #haarlep baldur's gate 3 #haarlep smut #original content

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scuttlingcrab · 28 days

Note

Raphael telling Tav, "I've grown quite fond of you, in my way. Perhaps too fond."

Thank you so much for this prompt! I thought it would be fun to feature Tailor Tav, from A Perfect Fit and Dressed to Kill, as there is another prompt I recieved I'm hoping to feature her in soon. x

Summary: Raphael shares a drink with Tav at the Last Light Inn, hoping to entice her with a new proposition.

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

Shadowy Deals

(Image via adevilyoudo)

Raphael reclined in his chair, watching Tav from across the entranceway of the Last Light Inn. He crossed his legs, comfortably resting an arm on the table as he studied the creature; his eyes gleaming, gazing with focus.

She was such an odd, clumsy little thing. Traipsing through the Sword Coast, narrowly surviving one fight, one obvious hazard after another. The foolish creature had nearly gotten herself killed by that True Soul Gut, somehow believing the Priestess would actually help with the parasite.

He shouldn’t be surprised at the blatant stupidity, afterall a drowning mortal will clutch at a twig. If it wasn’t for Raphael, her corpse and his recent schemes would be rotting away in that cell. And all for naught. His blood seethed at the thought of being set back another century if this current ploy was foiled.

Tav had failed to acknowledge Raphael’s presence the entire evening as she conducted her dealings in the lodging, continuously stomping up and down the stairs with her ragtag companions following suit. He had purposely positioned himself in a perfect location, one where no one would miss him upon entering the Inn, or so he thought. He even proudly donned the new doublet, never leaving his House of Hope without it since Tav had it delivered to him. The little mouse could do with more perceptive eyes.

There was no need for Raphael’s mood to be soured due to Tav’s negligence. He was still quite content after his lanceboard victory against Mol. He had effortlessly presented that cheeky tiefling with her proposition, and now all he had to do was wait. It was a cushy contract and one that offered Raphael heaps of benefits. Mol was a cunning wee thing, and Raphael always needed ambitious creatures under his employment. It was a win for them both.

However, all of that was merely to pass the time. He did find pleasure in dipping into his past successes in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, but there was only so much reminiscing he could do in one evening before he bored himself to death. Raphael had mortals to skin, souls to collect; he needed to make better use of his time than sit there, waiting to be noticed. He was only present for that coy creature, and he will get an audience. Needs must when the devil drives…

Shouting unexpectedly came from the other room, pulling Raphael’s focus away from Tav. Shadowheart and Lae'zel were in some sort of disagreement; they were screaming down each other's throats, swords drawn, and on the verge of bloodshed.

Raphael let out a dramatic sigh, he had no interest in their petty mortal qualms. He tilted his head, eyes returning to Tav. He took her in with a newfound satisfaction; captivated by the sudden air of authority she had over her companions as she jumped in between the bickering imbeciles in an attempt to quiet them. The creature did have her charms, whether Raphael liked to admit it or not.

Jaheira slammed a fist on her desk, lights flickering sporadically around the Inn.

“Silence!” Her voice boomed through every room of the establishment, causing bottles and bookshelves to tremble.

Harpers rose from their seats, drawing swords and readying bows at Jaheira’s change of temper. Raphael smirked, amused by the growing tension. He could hear each erratic heartbeat, smell the treacly scent of fear leaking from nearly every mortal within the vicinity.

Jaheira scowled at the adventurers, eyeing each of the companions in turn as she spoke.

“We do not fight amongst ourselves here. If you want to bicker like cubs then take it back to your camp. This will be your only warning.”

Jaheira stared at Shadowheart and Lae'zel a moment longer before returning to the desk, continuing her work.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel hissed like a pair of feral cats and stomped their separate ways. The vampire spawn, who always seemed to lurk about, just rolled his eyes, muttering something to himself before disappearing into the shadows.

Tav’s posture slumped as she watched her friends leave. Her face sagged, the brightness in her eyes fading. For the first time all evening she looked exhausted, no longer forced to wear the cracked facade she had built up around her companions.

After a moment of silence, the tired creature shook her head and dragged herself to the bar.

Raphael clapped his hands together, sparks flying from his fingertips. He had waited so long for this moment he thought it would never come, relieved he no longer had to make another visit to that squalid camp in order to speak with Tav. Despite his heart thundering in his chest, he rose gracefully from the seat, slowly pushing in the chair.

Raphael straightened his doublet, making sure it was flawless; no creases or wrinkles in sight, and sauntered his way towards the little mouse.

The hour had grown late and most of the surrounding area towards the back of the Last Light Inn was vacant, leaving Raphael alone with Tav. Any Harpers still awake cleared out after the scuffle, some returning to their posts scattered around the Inn.

Tav poured herself some ale and took a massive sip. She groaned in frustration, refilling the tankard and plopping down on the nearest stool. Raphael followed her lead, filling up his own mug before slithering to the other side of the bar.

Tav stared intensely into the tankard, as if searching for a greater meaning in the liquid. She was still covered in blood, her dainty hands caked in dirt and grime. Her clothes were torn and faded, far from the immaculate article of clothing she had gifted Raphael weeks prior. When was the last time she bathed? Did his little mouse have no ounce of dignity showing herself in such a manner outside of camp? Raphael made a note to himself to rectify this error if he was to continue with his antics.

“On a night most foul, the weary traveller sought refuge, searching for answers hidden in plain sight…” Raphael projected his voice to Tav from across the counter, twirling his fingers along the edges of the mug.

Tav took a sip of ale as she glanced up in the direction of Raphael’s voice. She goggled in disbelief when she locked eyes with him. The creature choked, nearly coughing up the beverage. She haphazardly used her sleeve to wipe away the ale dripping from her nose and mouth, trying to save herself from the embarrassment. Worry not, little mouse, your self respect was lost long ago.

“R-Raphael?!”

Raphael tilted his head, bowing slightly.

“If it isn’t my esteemed tadpoled friend. It’s so good to see you again and surprisingly still with your wits about you. How have you been managing as of late? By the ghastly state of your clothing, my guess is not very well.”

Tav’s cheeks flushed, as if a fire had been lit underneath her. She hid behind her tankard, taking another massive drink of ale.

“To be honest, this area is a bit more trouble than we expected… and you know, we’re a bit pressed for time with these, uh…” Tav pointed to her skull, wiggling her fingers in a cheap attempt at imitating the tadpoles. “Things, swimming around.”

“Very true. Time is of the essence, but that doesn’t mean we need to be reckless, my dear. On that note, I have been meaning to pick your brain, on a small matter…”

The creature opened her mouth as if to respond to Raphael, but he continued.

“Did you really think the Priestess would remove your tadpole without consequence? Did I not warn you there is no cure outside of my assistance?”

Tav shrugged. She squeezed the tankard in between her hands, her knuckles turning white.

“I was... just exploring my options and that Priestess was pretty damn convincing, just didn’t think she’d lock me up. I’m surprised Korrilla managed to find me in time.”

“I see, not even a thank you for my aid. It’s never too late, even for you, to learn a few manners.”

Tav narrowed her eyes. Raphael grinned, raising his mug. He took a sip of ale and shuddered, a chill crawling up his spine. The ale somehow burned his infernal tongue, leaving an acidic taste in his mouth.

“Truly a horrid substance…” Raphael sputtered.

He snapped his fingers, replacing the so-called ale with a finer, richer red wine. He took a sample of the new beverage to clean his palate, nodding to himself in approval.

”So, Korrilla…” Tav began.

“One moment please, if you would allow me… ”

Raphael snapped his fingers again and Tav’s tankard burst into flames. She jumped back, nearly falling off her stool. Moments later, the fire subsided, revealing a sparkling silver chalice in its wake.

“Your theatrics will be the death of me, Raphael.”

”I cannot sit here and willingly allow you to drink such filth in my presence. My apologies for the interruption, you may proceed.”

Tav gave Raphael a chiding stare and hesitantly picked up the chalice, smelling the wine.

“I take offence you think I would stoop so low, even after you indulged in my sumptuous spread at the House of Hope. It is safe, I assure you.”

Tav tasted the wine, her posture straightening as soon as it touched her lips. She let herself relax, leaning her elbows on the bar.

“Fair enough… I still prefer the ale.”

Raphael scoffed, contemplating snapping the remaining ale out of existence to spite the little mouse. He made another mental note to track down the mortal who deemed that abominable ale acceptable.

“Anyways, as I was saying, if Korrilla has been sneaking around all this time, watching us… then why didn’t she help with that Giyanki ambush? We were nearly wiped out earlier.”

”She was preoccupied.”

“And what were you bloody doing? If you have such an interest in us, I’d expect some more participation, at least.”

“Why I was in this very Inn, catching up with friends old and new. If you merely learned to open your eyes, you would see my presence is everywhere. You had a Psionic Detector, did you not? That should’ve given you a sufficient amount of warning. I will not be able to watch you every waking hour, no matter the temptation.”

There was a pause, Tav avoided Raphael’s eyes as she continued with her drink. Raphael covertly twirled a finger, refilling Tav’s chalice so it always remained full, unbeknownst to the creature.

Tav was starting to sway slightly, her eyes glazing over only just. She was frowning less the more she drank, that smile he enjoyed returning to her lips.

“Besides, my auspicious friend, why charge gallantly into battle when you can be focusing on more meaningful pursuits?”

Tav laughed into her cup, taking another mouthful.

“You’re mad. What more could I possibly do when there’s a fight with bloody Ketheric Thorm waiting for us around the corner? And not to mention the fate of the entire world is at stake!”

Raphael considered her outburst for a moment, enjoying the little mouse unravelling before his eyes.

“Perhaps I should have been more frank in our last conversation. My proposal still stands. I am itching for something new, something fresh…”

Raphael gestured towards the doublet by extending his arm and flicking his wrist. Tav rested her chin on her palm, squinting as she attempted to focus on Raphael. She continued to sway, side to side, dancing to a phantom tune. Her mouth fell open, eyes growing in size when she finally put two and two together.

“Oh gods! I didn’t realise you were still wearing it.”

“My dear, I would have you know I’ve done nothing but show off this doublet. You’ve caused quite the stir in my inner circles. I know a devil or two who might be keen on getting their claws on something similar.” And let them try, let them be jealous. Raphael would not allow it. The little mouse belonged to him, there would be no clothing like his in the Hells or on any other plane.

“Ha! You want me to make clothes for your devil friends?” Tav’s laughter grew more rambunctious.

Raphael clenched his teeth and slowly inhaled. He interlaced his fingers on the countertop in hopes of keeping his composure. Conversing with drunkards was more tortuous than dealing with insipid children! Raphael loathed repeating himself, it was a waste of his breath and talent as a devil. The mortals were to blame if they were too daft to keep up with his terms, or failed to understand the meaning behind his bespoke rhymes.

“No, my presumptuous little mouse. I want you to make clothes for me and only me. Permanently.”

“Oh, uh… wait, aren’t you supposed to offer me something in return?”

“I will make sure you are handsomely rewarded. There are some additional objectives that I will present to you and your companions in due time, but that is a separate matter.”

“Hmmm… right, right! You did ask me this before.”

Tav stared at Raphael, burrows furrowed in thought. He returned her gaze, allowing himself to disappear into her eyes, loosening up as he drowned in those blue irises. His skin prickled in anticipation of her answer. He took a sip of wine, wetting his drying mouth.

“Yea… y-you know what, it could be fun, why… the hell not!”

Tav reached towards her chalice but accidentally hit it, causing it to spill over the countertop. Her elbow slipped off the counter and she toppled backwards.

Raphael snapped his fingers and instantly appeared behind Tav, catching her. She was lighter than a feather and landed softly in his arms. She started cackling, pointing towards the wine slowly dripping onto the floor.

“Oooops. R-really sorry for the mess. Rapha… Hey, you… you know, you’re really fast.” Tav’s eyes tried to focus on Raphael but instead were moving around the ceiling. The creature had been reduced to a babbling infant.

“Tut, tut, the little mouse cannot handle her drink. What are we to do?”

“It…one drink… was only one.”

Tav’s eyes fluttered, yet her giggling carried on. She tried to raise her head but it lolled sideways, causing those luscious brown curls to obstruct half of her face.

There was a faint twinkle in Raphael’s eyes as he stared at the creature so helpless in his arms, her intoxicated daze was a most welcoming sight indeed. He grinned. There was so much promise in this moment; so many things he wished he could do, places he yearned to whisk her away to… but that was for another time. He needed to gain her trust, solidify their relationship.

"I've grown quite fond of you, in my way…” Raphael moved Tav’s hair out of her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear. “Perhaps too fond.”

“Mmm… Clothes, so nice… I, craft you… anything, always…” Her incoherent drivel faded before she melted into his arms, her body becoming limp.

Raphael observed the little mouse as he continued to caress her hair. She breathed slowly, blissfully unaware of the devil holding her in his fiery embrace, or the delicious deal she had just agreed to. Raphael pulled Tav closer, his fingers tingling as they held her.

He would sort the contract on the morrow and present it to the little mouse when she was of a clearer mind. He needed to see her face when she realised what she had done, when she understood what was truly expected of her. For now, let the creature sleep. She needed all the rest she could get for what awaited her in the coming days.

Raphael huffed, it seemed he would be forced to revisit that decrepit camp after all. The creature will need to repay him for his kindness. He stood back from the bar, concentrating on an open space in front of him. A blistering portal materialised, flames crackling as it waited for him to step through.

He approached the portal, pondering what sort of commission he would demand first.

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