#mortal x fiend

[sorcerous-caress]

A rabbit braver than any wolf | Yurgir

[Heavy smut, big size difference, mortal x fiend, stomach bulging, cockwarming, praise and degradation, mortal fleshlight, bottom sub reader, nb!reader]

The hero of Baldur's Gate has been coming down to the hells consistently to visit their favourite orthon. After 100 years of solitude, Yurgir grows obsessed with the feeling of your pretty hole clenching around him.

“Until then, good luck to you, little rabbit. You're a finer hunter than any wolf.”

-

He's been talking again, about you.

All of the nine hells must know your name by now. News travelled fast since that day, when you've slain a devil in his own house.

And yet, it should've died down by now, that was years ago, after all.

But thanks to one orthon who has not stopped bringing you up to all and any of those willing to listen, your legacy is still being written to this day.

The proud hero of Baldur's Gate, the bravest warrior of Faerun, is bedding a whole fiend thrice their size during their spare time.

Oh, everyone knows by now. You might as well get your own fiendish citizenship from the number of times you've been summoned down below to the hells. And like any good little rabbit, you've come down dressed to the nines in each one of those times.

There is something very exhilarating about holding power over someone, about how no matter how many times Yurgir saw you, he still lost his breath each and every single time. You swore the man would forget his own name at the sight of you, doesn't matter if you were wearing the most modest of clothes or the most expensive of lingerie.

You've heard the words he has been spreading around, heard the gossip circling about you being his bed-warmer, his favourite mortal plaything, beloved fleshlight.

Did any of the devils he has been talking the ears off of imagine the two of you fucking? They're fiends, of course they have. They probably have discussions about what sexual positions the two of you prefer, whilst they're having lunch as if it was the weather they're talking about.

Oh if only they knew.

You wonder, how would Yurgir's own personal army of hounds and fiends react to their brave leader of a giant Orthon becaming so weak at the knees at the mere sight of your bare chest? You've seen the glaze of lust and hunger over his eyes whenever you'd slowly remove your underwear or push it to the side, how easy he was to rile up.

Suddenly, all his big talk outside about you being at his back and call whenever or wherever he pleased, is gone.

All his barking about you being addicted to the feeling of his large cock stretching you out, has vanished.

He's speechless around his little rabbit, stunned each and every time by the sheer heavenly feeling of your lips against his hardened red skin. The softness of your skin pressed against his large frame.

How his whole hand can easily fit around your waist, lift you up like a ragdoll. He's completely enamoured with how small you are in comparison to him, how fragile this mortal body of yours is, the same body that not only killed him before but took down a whole devil with him as a witness.

He has never been more turned on in his entire life by anyone else.

Fiends can only dream of heaven. It's beyond a fantasy.The one place they are not allowed to even exist in.

And to Yurgir, you're the closest he will ever get to touching the heavens, to experiencing utter bliss.

He can't describe it even if he tried. He has sworn off any incubus or succubus since he has tasted your lips. Because, how could any other flesh compare? How could any other tight hole compete with his little rabbit's.

This was another one of those days where he was lucky enough for you to answer his call, to accept his summoning invitation. Each time he sends one out, part of him still fears your rejection.

Or worse, you ignoring him.

He's become nothing but addicted to you, your smell, taste, and the sound of your moans. It's hard to imagine even reaching orgasm without your body pressed against him.

What have you reduced him to, little rabbit? He comes crawling back to you each time he even has the smallest urge to get off because he knows his hand would never satisfy him. He can't even touch himself anymore.

And just like always, in the span of an hour or two, a portal opens up in the middle of his home as you step out of it.

The sight of you has his cock twitching already, oh how stunning you look. Those eyes of yours that clearly know your effect on him, that meet his gaze with such fierce fire and confidence, the little warrior inside you has never died down no matter how many years has passed

“How I've missed you, little one, come to me.” His voice comes out in a low rumble, stepping forward to meet you halfway through as you throw yourself into his embrace.

He holds you in his arms, taking a deep breath of your scent. Stiff muscles relaxing at the feeling of your soft skin. A battle hardened body meant for fighting and endurance becomes akin to putty in your hands.

There's a low growl sounding from him. He's barely held you and is already at his limits.

It's a good thing that there is no night and day cycle deep in the hells, isn't it?

-

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mixed with his loud growling and groaning. The pretty little moans pouring out of your lips follow after.

Your feet are dangling below you, they can't reach the floor.

He's standing behind you as he has one hand completely wrapped around your stomach and waist, fingers pressing against the bulge on your stomach.

Feeling his own cock against his hand from your insides, completely having you speared on it as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper. You think if he let go of you right now, you'd stay up on his cock from the sheer size of it inside you.

It's unimaginably big much like the rest of him, bumps and blunt spikes littering the thing. The head rounded and mean, bullying your insides open and going out of you with a pop before plunging back in.

You can't do anything. You're helplessly hanging in the air as gravity pushes you down to meet his thrusts. He's doing all the work of lifting you up.

In and out, in and out, he is rearranging your insides. The pleasure is unbearable as you're fucked from one orgasm to another with no break to catch your breath.

A literal mortal fleshlight, that's what you feel like.

“Little rabbit.” His voice is deeper, rumbling through the room and making you tighten around him, “your hole won't be able to close after this, it won't be able to forget the shape of my cock.”

There's clear pride in his voice.

“My fucktoy, you're doing so well, little one.” Another deep thrust and your eyes almost roll back, “I can't get enough of you, no matter how much of my cum is inside you, I might never be satisfied.”

The small puddle of cum below him that's been dripping our of your hole between each thrust is clear evidence of that, he has filled your guts time after time. You can almost taste him at the back of your throat.

Yurgir isn't at any better state than you. He feels like he is losing his mind at your velvety insides. Each clench and spasm chipping at his sanity slowly.

How can one mortal feel so good? Why do your moans sound better than any music he has ever heard?

If a fiend can feel love, then this must be it. It's beyond love it's pure obsession how much he feels like he can never live without you taking his cock every single day. He fears he might really go crazy if he can't get his relief inside you, if he can't flood your hole with his cum and watch it drip before forcing another load into you.

The pleasure never goes away, only intensifies.

He's suddenly pulling out with a loud groan, manhandling your body around and flipping you over into the bed.

Your back crashes into the soft matteress. Facing him in this new position, you witness the hungry look in his eyes, as if he wouldn't even let the gods stand between him and you at this moment.

Yurgir folds you in half, knees pushed back next to your head as he plunges himself back inside you. He's burning up, hellfire blood running through his veins and clouding his brain with lust.

All of his intelligence, self-control, and commanding charm is thrown out the window as he is reduced to an animal of pure desire.

The same brutal pace starts again, this new position allowing him to see your face clearly. The way your eyes flutter closed whenever he hits that sensitive spot inside you, the way he fucks the breath out of your lungs.

Your hands reach towards his face. He lowers himself, so you may touch him. Letting you cradle his large head between your small hands, thumbs brushing against his cheeks and guiding him even lower.

Pressing your lips against his, a single kiss is all it takes to snap his thread as he finds himself spilling over the edge again. Filling you with his cum as a loud cry breaks out of his lips, as his hold on your skin bruises your flesh.

To make him come undone with a simple kiss.

He's slowly crumbling inside, melting against you. His soul is begging to leap out of his body and weave itself with yours.

“You're…beyond anything of this world.” Breathless words are forced out of his mouth.

Hit fragile mortal, his little rabbit. His. Taking his cock so well, letting him breed you so willingly.

The urge to litter you with kisses is too strong. He leans down, and as delicately as he could, he trails a kiss after another down your neck.

You could feel how hard he is trying not to scratch you with his sharp teeth. “I would fight a hundred more blood wars just for another night of this.”

The bulge in your stomach, his cock bulging your insides just from being too big for your mortal hole, is a sight he can never get enough of.

Never slowing his thrusts down, he reaches his hand between your legs to aid you in reaching your climax faster. Overstimulating the heat between your legs, rubbing and stroking with a matching fast pace as he watches you unravel below him.

It doesn't take long for your back to arch off of the bed, thighs trembling as he completely buries his cock deep inside you to the hilt, staying still and keeping you filled to the brim while you ride out your orgasm.

He wants you to associate your pleasure with his cock, in hopes you too end up addicted to him.

You're crying out in pleasure when he picks up the pace again, not giving you a moment of rest. Shushing your cries and telling his little rabbit how this is their true purpose, how good they're being for him.

Be good for him, be a good fuckdoll of a mortal for this fiend you've corrupted. As a being born out of pure sin, he didn't think anyone could make him sink any lower into the pits of lava.

Until you came.

-

Your whole body is aching, legs, knees, shoulders, and insides. His face is cradled against your chest as your fingers slide up and down his large horns, toying with the pointy ends.

Soft kisses and licks against your chest, enveloping your nipples in his lips, his hot tongue swiping against them, and sending small waves of pleasure down your spine.

Yurgir is still inside you as you both laid on your sides. But the pace slowed down. He's only lazily thrusting in and out of you.

Even now, as he has been drained and milked dry, he still can't get enough, still can't get himself to pull out of you.

Is it a spell you've casted upon him? A curse you bestowed? He wants to spend an eternity with you warming his cock, with your hole always stretched to the limit around him so it may never close.

So it may never forget his shape.

“That was…you were truly magnificent, little rabbit.” He cups your face with two of his fingers.

Oh, that tired sleepy look on you tugs on his heartstrings, yet he can't bring himself to feel guilty over his overindulgence of your body.

An arm wraps around you, pulling you closer to him until you can feel his heartbeat. “Rest now, I will watch over you.”

He would tear down the heavens and split the hells for your safety, you have no doubt of that.

Eyes fluttering closed, you dose off with the comfortable feeling of him inside you. The knowledge that his cock will stay there all night, feeling every twitch or squirm around it.

#♡Yurgir #♡size kink #♡smut #♡sub reader #♡bottom reader #Yurgir x reader #yurgir x tav #bg3 x reader #smut #bg3 smut #nonbinary reader #nb!reader #bottom reader #sub reader #size difference #mortal x fiend #size k!nk #praise and degredation

[muzanswaifu]

Bittersweet

Demon! Sanemi x Fem! Reader

18+

Request: "I have been waiting to read something like this for so long. Demon Sanemi craving blood because fem!reader is on her period, so yk he eats her out without mercy❤️"

Demon Sanemi is so mean I love hiiiim :3 Need me a man who would eat me out on my period 😒 Jk jk that shit gotta taste nastyyyyyyy

NSFW Warnings: Yandere, Non-con, Smut, Sexism, Kidnapping, Forced Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Menstruation, Blood Kink, Forced Orgasm, Kinda Gross ngl

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The rhythmic pitter-patter of feet echoes through the green, a slow churn of water thrumming with the flow of the current. Even the thick noise of crickets and wind couldn't drown out the hint of life found deep in the brush, the figurative curl of a finger beaconing him to draw closer, to close the union of rarity.

He took a breath. A deep one. Taking in the pungent scent of weak males. And a female.

Shinazugawa could nearly taste the delectable meat already, the flavor settling on his tongue and seducing his taste buds. Drool nearly threatened his mouth, but he withheld himself. He wasn't an animal. Not technically, anyway.

But he might as well be. Only an animal could hunt as he did, track as he did, kill as he did. But a beast was not nearly as precise as he was, not leaving even a scrap of evidence in his wake. Only the crime scene would be found, a gorey scene of bone and torn flesh, remnants of his well-earned meal. But only the males would wither...

As for the female -

Oh gods, did just the thought of it make him salivate, his very bones trembling with need. Her scent alone made him feel weak with hunger, his tongue curling with horrid intent. The fragrance was familiar to him, a vague memory of his past existence of rare blood, the same unique trait only serving as a grand pillar toward his success as a demon. Her blood ran the same, her veins full of the powerful elixir that his kind would quite literally kill each other for. But he had no need for such rivalry.

The path the cattle strode upon was a hidden one, veiled by a plentiful layer of wisteria about fifty feet aways on either side of the trail. The effort wasn’t so useless, he supposed. Perhaps it served useful against weaker demons of no rank, the fiends not yet powerful enough to develop some resistance to it. But his godly build was stronger, the frail flower only giving his skin a lingering sting. His hunger far outweighed it.

He had long stalked his prize. The demon had patience in these rare situations, biding his time for the perfect opportunity to make his efforts all the more worth it. It had been several moons ago that he’d first stumbled upon her delivery across these lands, his keen eye catching the lingering dust kicked up by the horses that pulled her carriage. Even back then, the chance had been perfect. The men were unknowing, all walls of defense down as the car came to a halt, surely one of exhaustion. Shinazugawa drew closer, only a breath away from finally feasting when his vision was obscured by a heavenly vision.

A small thing she was, her skirts nearly catching under her feet as she gracefully stepped down from her traveling abode. The moonlight shimmered brilliantly off her glazed skin as she bent her delicate neck back, stretching out the aching tightness trapped there. Her (h/c) hair was frizzy across the outline, the static from the summer heat pulling at the threads and giving them a coiled curl. His maw fell open with his amazement.

He’d come across several humans of marechi blood in his infinite lifetime, and most, if not all, were nothing much to look at, quite ugly in his opinion. They all bore the same simplicity and naïveté, their only unique trait being their delectable composition that gave them their sole purpose of feasting. But she was so drastically different.

Everything about this female sang rarity, her natural features reminiscent of that of ancient goddesses that mortal men could only wish to touch. But here she was. Within an arm’s reach, he could have her, do with her what he wished. He was nearly disgusted with himself, being far more captivated with his food than he should’ve been. Sparing her of death would’ve been such a waste of opportunity, one that even those lower than him wouldn’t have been so idiotic as to squander. Yet, his own self-doubt swallowed him as he drew back into the dark wood, letting her little toy soldiers bring her back to the safety of the nearing daylight.

He’d gorged himself after that, consuming soul after soul at a nearby village in an attempt to quench his own frustration and need. There weren’t many options to consider. He couldn’t spare the thing entirely, he wasn’t that fucking stupid, but he didn’t very much want her dead either. Turning her definitely wasn’t an option, women just didn’t have as much potential as demons, and he had his own personal beliefs that women shouldn’t dirty their hands. But dear gods, her scent, her smell alone probably called upon hundreds of demons to her location daily, perhaps it would’ve been a mercy to take the female’s life.

Fuck.

He hated himself for how indecisive he was. Not once in his entire demonhood had he been at such a crossroad of hesitance. There had to be another option that held the best of both worlds, yes? Shinazugawa just hadn’t come across it yet.

But fate gave him a hint as he snatched up the severed half of a female he’d killed, her guts spilling into his lap as he gnawed on her fat ankle. His daggered eyes trailed up her cold thigh, lining the dark trail of blood that seeped from under her skirt. A small confusion fell over him as he mulled over the strange placement. His blade’s cut through her navel had been clean, her blood pooling into the muddy grass and not at all staining much of her clothing. Yet the chain of red kept its existence, running into the conjunction of her thighs. Cursing his own curiosity, Sanemi swept the pesky material aside, only to be met with the brilliance of a cruel idea.

It hadn’t been hard at all to follow along the woman’s usual route of travel again, her men taking the same path,  ignorant of its dangerous discovery. Yet the timing was unfortunately off, her smell still sickeningly sweet and clean rather than bitter and dirty. He’d have to wait for next time. And the next. And the next. He’d nearly given up hope entirely until the fated night his lungs were filled with the metallic scent that had his belly tensing with primal famine. Just the mere aroma of ichor had drool gathering in his jowls, his fists clenching with need. It only grew thicker as her quaint carriage drew near, the clicking wheels singing a dreadful tune with each snap against the road. Sanemi could already taste the woman on his tongue, her savory flesh plump and tender between his teeth… god, he was going to lose it.

He nearly did as she stepped from her carriage in the same manner as their first meeting, her hair knit in tight braids across her crown, framing her delicate features. She was dressed more eloquently this time, Her gown long and loose yet hugging her figure with a gentle tightness. He mused to himself that perhaps she was on her way to some formal event to maintain appearances, maybe even earn herself a husband. Yet the notion of such a possibility irked him all the same. He’d never felt a hunger like this before, if one could even call it that. This felt so much more significant, crucial even, as if his very life depended on it. And maybe it did, since he would most definitely not let himself live if he couldn’t get even a single taste of her blood. Her body was his to take.

It took him no time at all to do away with the weaklings, the men’s bodies falling one after the other into the gravel, making a sad splash as their vitals funneled out. The man ogling at her backside was the first to go, his head severed the instant his eyeline met the wide curve of her dress, dropping to the ground with a thud and rolling to a leisure stop to her heel. When the woman finally turned from her distraction of the ominous wood, she was met with pure, bloody isolation.

Her horrified scream echoed loud, her hands clawing at her own face as she looked upon the gory scene of blood and guts that surrounded her. Shinazugawa was almost impressed at her reaction speed as she quickly turned foot and bolted, running through the thick bush despite her frailty. He couldn’t help but snicker, so enamored by her utter foolishness of trying to escape. If the men protecting her couldn’t even survive, what made her think she was the exception?

“God, you’re fucking stupid, ha!” he cackled, leaping about the tree-line, nipping at her backside but giving her just the right amount of space to let her hope she could get away.

She was not at all athletic, her stamina quickly dwindling as her frail figure fought with itself to continue on. Her chest burned, her feet hurt, her will to keep moving dwindling by the second and feeding into the persuasive idea of giving up. Yet the monster snatched her before she could choose, slamming her into the soft, melted ground and caking her elegance in earth. His hand wrapped around her pretty neck firmly, another snaking down her bodice and tearing open the gold buttons of her dress. His tongue swept across his lip as he unwrapped her, taking his sweet time to unveil every inch of her pristine flesh to his ravenous eye, her little fists pounding at his chest as she sobbed and screamed for help.

“Shut it,” Sanemi growled lowly, surprised to see her actually listen, her lip wobbling and eyes flooding as she silenced herself. He could still hear her pathetic whimpers as he stripped her, her small frame shaking as he brushed down her stomach, removing the lacy undergarments that hid her delicate body from his sight. He could see her plush intimacy coming into view from beneath her coverings, her curved hips thickening her figure, her thighs trembling as they tried desperately to hide themselves. But there was nothing that could be done about that now as she lied there, helpless, powerless, weak.

He opened his mouth wide, exposing sharp canines and letting his hot breath wash over her firm abdomen as her tears began anew and wept down her flushed cheeks. The demon was pleased, relishing in her surrender and submission as he gently ran his tongue down her navel, sampling his meal and savoring the girl's pitiful sobs. He loved it when humans cried, when they begged and pleaded for their lives like the weaklings they were, it made things so much more exciting.

His tongue flicked out over her pelvis, gliding over the pudge over her sex as he breathed in the scent of her musk, tainted with ovulation. Sanemi could already feel the saliva gathering in a jowls as he began to peel down her underwear, a cotton cloth clinging to the crotch of it. Her breath stuttered.

"N-no, no, please! Please... please!" she cried out, shaking hard and grasping at her own face, nearly clawing her eyes out with panic. But she knew better than to try to fight him off again, clearly more afraid of what he would do then than what he was currently doing. He couldn't help but grin against her supple flesh, his edged teeth nicking her thigh. She jerked at the sudden pain and the warm sensation of blood trickling down her leg, soaking into the dirt.

"P-Please, p-p-please don't... h-hurt me," her words shook with her exterior, her sniffling likely a strong persuasion to those who had a heart. He obviously didn't but was still bothered by her pestering fear of being eaten. "If I was going to eat you, don't you think I would have done it already?" he groaned sarcastically.. The human slowly removed her fingers to peak down at him, her eyes red and welled with tears, lip trembling. He laughed.

"I mean come on, you think I'd let you bitch and moan this long just to kill you later? If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Quit fucking crying," he hissed.

She sniffled again. "B-but -"

"Zip it."

Her mouth snapped shut, quickly obeying before her brain could even comprehend him.

Sanemi growled. "Talk again and you get to join those fuckers back there." He nodded his head back to the direction of her abandoned carriage and dead guards. His claws dug into her thighs, pulling them to spread wider to encompass his presence. "The sooner you let me take what I want, the sooner I let you go. But I don't deal with brats. You either listen or you don't, 's up to you bitch."

He wasn't sure how he expected her to react, but it definitely wasn't for her to spread herself wider, without any instruction. It was almost touching how quickly she gave in, not even needing a moment to think it over before she opened herself up for him to do as he pleased. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she were eager for it.

His head fell down to her core again, his fangs pricking the surface of her skin yet again, drawing forth a shallow line of blood as he slid them down her inner thighs, his eyes locked on her frightened yet curious gaze. She shivered at the sharpness of his touch, her legs trembling as he moved further south, trying to appease his hungered excitement. He resumed pulling down her panties, reveling in the aroma of moon blood that filled his senses as he took away all obstruction. It was beautiful. The smell of blood. The sight of red dripping from her puffy lips. He could only imagine the taste, so eager in his imagination of its excellence. He'd never tasted pure ovulation blood before, never even thought of it actually. It would be stupid to use just his tongue when he could devour with his teeth in an instant and move on to the next meal. But this was a different situation entirely. This woman could satiate him for years, decades even, with marechi blood. It didn't hurt that she was a hot piece of ass either. If he didn't get himself together soon, he might end up fucking his food as well.

The woman's eyes lingered on his leisure movements, the drawl of his dangerous eyes along her sex as he studied the meal. Embarrassment quickly rose in her chest as she realized his intentions, praying that he’d move on with whatever he was trying to do so her dignity could recover. Although, she supposed letting him taste her menstrual blood was better than getting eaten alive... but hardly.

The demon felt her pulse quicken in his grasp, her breathing growing faster and her patience dwindling as she began to quiver again. He didn't blame her though, not in the slightest. But he had every right to  such a rare female, he deserved everything. And if the needs of others were sacrificed, so be it. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist her for too long. He was ravenous.

And he was horny.

He smiled as his head dipped down, his tongue flicking out to smooth against her swollen clitoris, barely brushing the top as he inhaled the fragrance of her blood. Her legs trembled, her muscles tensing as her hips buckled in response, shocked with the sudden feeling of sensitivity. She had to bite her lip to silence her noise of surprise. He chuckled as he teased her, dragging his tongue from one side to the other, teasing her wet folds and leaving behind a thin trail of saliva. He didn't really care for her pleasure at the moment, but he was curious of her response to it. Dinner and a show. That was fine by him.

She bit her lip harder, her thighs flexing to keep from touching him. Sanemi was excited at her reaction, watching her face contort with each and every careless stroke of his tongue, her hips subconsciously rising to feed herself into his awaiting mouth. A few times, she almost grabbed for him, but her arms were still pinned to her side by her own strong will to survive. He liked that, enjoyed her struggle as he continued to lick her up and down, her clit becoming more sensitive with each and every pass. Her blood was intoxicating, his head already growing dizzy as he drank her from the source. He thought it would be difficult to keep himself from biting down but the thought never even grazed his mind as he continued giving sloppy licks and sucks to her weeping heat. She was so tasty, so sweet, so ripe. It seemed like she would never stop bleeding as his tongue was eternally blessed with a fresh coat of red. He wondered for a moment if it was possible to drain her of it all in one night.

He growled, his head lowering down to her opening and his tongue falling out again as she whimpered in anticipation, eyes closed tight. She felt like she was losing her mind with every pass of his ravenous tongue. Her head was so foggy and light, her pussy so warm, she couldn't stop herself from letting out small noises of pleasure as he kept feasting upon her. It took every ounce of her being not to wrap her legs around his head and trap him into her center, forcing him to cease his cruel teasings. What little was left of her fear only heightened the experience, giving her a blissful taste of sin that she'd never indulged before, the sense of danger giving her such a rush.

Her ichor only grew sweeter on his tongue by the second, her slick diluting her blood in heavier batches that gave him more a taste of lust than power. He focused on her hole then, realizing that nipping at her clit certainly wasn't helping the situation. Yet, her pleasure rose none-the-less. His tongue worked hard, dashing inside of her, licking up every drop of liquor, drinking it down as if it were a fine wine. It was nearly too good to be true, this level of strength he felt. He looked down at the girl, his eyes burning into her as he watched her squirm and grip the earth. She was so delicious.

But he needed more.

His tongue pumped into her again and again, dipping as far as it could reach before retreating to her entrance to lick up anything that had escaped him. She shuddered, her hips subtly grinding on his face to chase her nearing end. It continued building in her belly, sending bolts of electricity up her spine and warming her insides. She couldn't even feel the pain of her cramps anymore.

Sanemi sipped at her wetness more vigorously, his tongue lapping at her like a dog, desperate for more of his meal. He slowed only for a moment as the woman gave a small cry, her hips and thighs quaking harshly and tensing in his palms. He wasn't even angry when her juices sprayed him, drenching his lower face and dripping down his lips. If anything he was amused, only a human could come from such little care. Yet, he stopped, her cunt hardly even bleeding anymore being so wet with arousal and relief. What was the point of pleasing her when he gained nothing in return.

He rose from his position on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes raked down her sloppy appearance, certainly not that of a noblewoman. Her backside was caked with mud, her hair messy and matted, her face red and mouth leaking with drool. She nearly looked peaceful as she let out gentle pants, still softly shaking from such a strong orgasm. He rolled his eyes.

"Get up," he commanded, uncaring of her condition. "I don't have all fucking night."

The woman only rose when his growls became violent, her movements awkward and her head still in the clouds. She still attempted to cover herself, tucking an arm over her breasts and cupping her sex with another.

"I'm only going to explain this once so I suggest you pay attention-" he began, her eyes quickly lighting up with fright, "You are going to come back to this path every month during your menses. You will come alone. No guards. No friends. No nobody. Understand?"

She squirmed nervously in her footing, her fear beginning to crest again. "B-but I-I won’t be a-allowed to travel for n-no r-r-reason..." she stuttered.

"Not my problem."

"A-and how would I come back without anyone to take-"

"Not. My. Problem." he hissed meanly, making her cower away.

He stepped forward to her, towering over her little form. "I'm not here to negotiate. I'm just telling you what you're going to do. I don't give a fuck how you're gonna do it, but if you know what's good for you, you'll obey. You want anyone else dead because of you?" he sneered.

Her lip quivered and tears glazed in her eyes. "N-no."

Sanemi chuckled, looking down at her and pressing a strong hand over her lower belly and brushing away her small hands, dangerously close to her privates that were still glazed with his saliva.

"This is mine," he stated, passing two fingers between her puffy cunt lips, "Give it to anyone else and I'll kill them and make you watch. I'll make it slow too. You want that?" She violently shook her head, nearly on the cusp of pissing herself from the terror of such a suggestion.

He hummed with his approval of her response, giving her another once over with his eyes and a quick squeeze of her breast before backing away into the night, undisturbed with how on earth she was going to get back home. It would've been any second that he could lose control of himself and pounce, a desperate need growing in pants to satiate himself. He'd have to establish that as another rule - no fucking when she was edible. Maybe he'd pay her another visit later when her period was over, at her estate perhaps, just to take away her innocence and test out how useful she was to him. He could only imagine how pathetic she would look speared on his cock with nowhere else to go, but that would be for another night, he couldn't forget her main purpose.

And he couldn't wait to get a taste of that again.

-

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@tired-writer04

@magoliaomega

@bishishbored

@animeblog123

@sparklyphantom

@vividelreyy

@ledafox

@that-bih

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#demon slayer #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #kny #kny smut #sanemi shinazugawa #kny sanemi #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #sanemi #sanemi x y/n #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #shinazugawa #shinazugawa smut #sanemi fluff #demon slayer x y/n #demon slayer x female reader #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader

[dark-and-kawaii]

I love soft Haarlep and I do love your parent!Haarlep stuff but I can't help but wonder about the angst that would come from Soft!Haarlep realizing that Tav is pregnant with their child, ie a cambion (DND lore states cambion births that stem from a human mother x devil/incubus/etc always results in the mother's death).

₊˚⊹♡ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀʀɪꜰɪᴄ ᴏᴜᴛᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ. ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏᴜᴛᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴀᴀʀʟᴇᴘ ɪꜱ ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴏᴋᴀʏ.

⋆˙⟡♡ Angst | Pregnancy | Soft Haarlep ♡

Haarlep’s usual guise of cruelty softened into something almost human as they watched you sleep, your chest rising and falling with the innocent rhythm of peaceful slumber. Oblivious to Haarlep’s unexpected worry. The incubus was always known for their merciless nature, feasting upon souls and taking whatever it is they wished without a care for the other’s wellbeing… But you… You were different.

Haarlep’s gaze drifted, lingering on the delicate features of your face before trailing down to your still flat abdomen. Inside you, unbeknownst to you, a new life was taking root. A life that Haarlep could sense with a clarity that cursed their very being...

Haarlep had always threatened to breed you, to knock you up with their demon spawn to show all of hell and Faerun that you belonged to them, once enslaved incubus, a lowly creature…

Closing their eyes, Haarlep realizes their very nature had gotten the best of them. That their very threat had come to fruition and with each beat of your heart, a silent countdown to your demise had begun…

The knowledge was a blade to Haarlep’s darkened heart. Incubi, like them, were no strangers to the fatal toll their offspring could exact on mortal lovers. History whispered of rare survivals, like Tasha the witch queen, who bore the children of Grazzt and lived to tell the tale. But you were not her. You were just some adventurer, who had gotten tangled with Raphael, which led you inadvertently into Haarlep’s embrace.

If this spawn was anything like a full blooded incubus, your mortal body would have trouble handling such a pregnancy. You could very well die trying to bring it into this world… If you even carried the spawn long enough for that to become an issue. The youngling may take you by surprise in the night and tear through you, feasting upon your very soul as it left your body.

With a heavy breath, Haarlep’s lashes fluttered back open as they placed their large hand gently on your stomach. They could only stare at it as memories flooded their mind of when you whispered dreams of carrying their offspring, begging for their threats of breeding to come true, wishing to feel your own belly swollen with a little mini Haarlep... You had smiled so brightly then… A smile they wished to keep to themselves… Haarlep wondered if that would be the last time they would ever see such a sight… Their favorite treat, always eager for a taste of the them… Always so loyal to them…

The incubus’s eyes began to harden…

A deep growl rumbled from within Haarlep, the sound echoing around the room as they thought of all the ways this could go horribly wrong. All the ways your precious mortal life could end.

The growing soul within you had to go. It must.

You were theirs. You were not supposed to be taken away from them…

They couldn't lose you.

Not you.

As they leaned down and pressed their lips against your stomach. It was a kiss, tender and loving, so out of place from their usual rough manner. Haarlep lingered there, lips brushing against the warm skin, feeling the flutter of your heartbeat underneath the softness of your flesh.

You were theirs.

Not Raphael's, not any other fiend or demon who thought they could get a claim on you.

Just Haarlep's.

Kelemvor, death itself, wouldn’t have you... Haarlep would seize the offspring, tearing it from your flesh with merciless hands if necessary…

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #haarlep #haarlep x tav #haarlep bg3 #haarlep x reader #raphael the cambion #bg3 Raphael

[cambion-companion]

Can’t stop thinking of a tav who just showers Raphael in attention and affection. It’s the little things like listening attentively to his plays and dramatizations whenever they ask anything, to looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars, cupping his face as if he’s some kind of precious lovely thing instead of you know, A DEVIL

Just tenderness because that’s not something common in the world of devil and demons (I think?)

Ps: love your writing!

Hi! Thank you! I took the opportunity to write more Patron!Raphael, with a little bardic twist!

Raphael x reader (gn)

You were Raphael’s favorite.

This knowledge you wore with great pride and much to the aggravation of his other servants.

You had never expected a patron Fiend to be so dynamic.  His passion for the performing arts rivaling even your own.  You’d struggled being a bard for so long, working your fingers raw upon the instruments that refused to sing for you.  Your creative abilities severely stunted.  Until Raphael entered your life.

The cambion had carefully watched your passion to act and dance, recognizing in you his own desire to draw down the magic of words upon parchment.

You had been so eager to sign his contract, agreeing to serve him and spread his own creations to the material plane in exchange for unhindered, undiluted talent.

Raphael was quite pleased with this arrangement.  Under his mortal disguise he would often attend your little shows, his amber eyes glinting with self-satisfaction as he watched his little bird channel his creations. Through you, Raphael gained another taste of what being a god must feel like.

At the end of another long recitation of one of Raphael’s more laborious poems, you watched the guests file from the room and took a welcome drink of cool water for yourself.

Raphael leaned against the marble pillar, idly swirling a glass of red wine as he studied you.

“You’re not enunciating enough during the last stanza.”  Raphael tutted lightly, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “The attention of your guests lapses accordingly.”

You grimaced and rubbed your sore throat. “Sure, it’s my enunciation. Not the fact you drone on about the tempestuous nature of pixies for five minutes.”

Raphael’s smile didn’t reach his dark eyes. “For a mortal so favored by Fate, you certainly enjoy tempting it.”

“I’m not favored by Fate, I’m favored by you.”

“Well said.  Well spotted.”  Raphael chuckled and drained his cup before placing it aside and moving close, the fragrance of his musk burning your nostrils. His hand cupped your jaw and tilted your face up. “Not appreciated nearly enough, however. I labor long so that you may be the conduit of my brilliance.”

You couldn’t help but roll your yes, a twinge of unwelcome fondness stirring yet again within you for this curious devil. “I adore everything you create, Raphael.  Well…almost everything.”

“And what, pray tell, is the exception?”

You hesitated and pulled your head out of his grip, his long index finger trailing beneath your chin. “Well, that song about the hagspawn was pretty terrible.”

Raphael inclined his head. “Granted, it was not my best creation. Yet you did it justice, once you heeded my tender correction and stopped laughing.”

You rubbed your lower back at the unpleasant memory. “Yes…I remember your ‘correction’ quite well.”

“As always, it is my intent to make an impression.”  Raphael extended a hand which you took, preparing to be whisked back to his House of Hope. “Even amongst the most stiff-necked of my servants.”

A blast of hot air met your face as Raphael pulled your body through the familiar hellfire portal.  You didn’t mark the change, but Raphael had shed his human guise and now stood before you in full cambion form.  He stretched his arms and wings wide, clearing his throat before launching into a dramatic recitation of his newest poetic piece.

You sat in an armchair as far away from the roaring fire as possible, listening to Raphael’s deep voice paint the images of an epic tale. It was clearly another of his self-insertion stories with a protagonist modeled after how Raphael perceived himself. Which was a sight different than the reality.

Despite the blatant conceit, you couldn’t help but be drawn into the world he had created. You clapped enthusiastically at the end of his impassioned oratory.

As always, you were his biggest fan. Aside from himself of course.

Haarlep passed through the large room on the way back to the Boudoir he was often confined to.  The incubus wore a sleepy expression and the usual replication of Raphael’s image, carrying a mug of steaming liquid in hand.

“Raphael has just come up with the most exquisite tale, Haarlep!”  You said with excitement, not noticing Raphael’s glare on you soften slightly at your words.

“Believe me, cherub.  I’ve heard it all.”  Haarlep waved a dismissive hand in your direction and continued on his way.

“He doesn’t like me much.”  You said, a little put out as you always were at Haarlep’s disinterest.

“Pay him no mind.”  Raphael handed you yet another long sheaf of parchment whereon he’d scrawled more lyrics for you to memorize. “There is only one whose attentions you should crave.”

You glanced over his work and smiled, trying in vain to hide your delight at the new project. “Of course, but it does get a little confusing since you insist on him wearing your form.”

Raphael’s tail smacked your backside causing you to hiss at the sting. “Careful, little nightingale. Even my fondness for you has its limits.”

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

[criesinliess]

━MARCH 2023; susan's recs

LOCKWOOD&CO

knock knock. who's there? @klineinie

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

a taste of normalcy @websterss

the stray from arif's @↑

everything @frogserotonin

marker mayhem @oblivious-idiot

no one else @vi-trying-to-survive

public displays @↑

the language of longing. looks and stolen glances @fleetingvow

at times like these @teaandransacking

out the window @givemea-dam-break

patch you up @↑

you left me @↑

anthony @↑

i know it hurts @warrenposts

love me, forever, always @klineinie

dancing with our hands tied @bloodcanbehot

i wish you would @↑

you talk too much @helloooofandoms

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

━━JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

tiktok trouble @ultralightpoe

do you want me to lie, sir? @simpforrooster

the princess and the hangman @↑

howdy, darlin'; part2 @↑

━━BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

daddy would say yes @roosterforme

GRISHAVERSE

━━KAZ BREKKER

six months @grimbanes

the king @magpiencrow

bejeweled @honeyfict

━━NIKOLAI LANTSOV

i want you to want me; part2 @sophierequests

the one you think about as you lie awake; part2 @↑

young royals @clairecrive

stars in the night @↑

currents @lantsovsupremacist

august @↑

sick & stubborn @fleurspun

healer’s duties @↑

the art of pretension @↑

speak up @prince-septimus

SPIDER-MAN

━━ANDREW!PETER PARKER

you're not peter parker; part2 @curseofaphrodite

coffee run @↑

caviar and cigarettes @↑

MARVEL

━━DRUIG

unrequired; part2 @givemea-dam-break

MARAUDERS ERA

━━JAMES POTTER

getaway car @curseofaphrodite

mortal enemies @↑

━━SIRIUS BLACK

collide @curseofaphrodite

━━REGULUS BLACK

drunk nights; part2 @curseofaphrodite

the door @↑

words unsaid @↑

the break-in; part2 @↑

wishes and a gift @↑

of monsters and men @↑

the best man @↑

tricks and charms @↑

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

━━PRINCE CASPIAN

my prince @heliads

OUTER BANKS

━━JJ MAYBANK

assigned seat @quin-ns

fiending for something, might just be a meaning @idcntlikedarkness

a visceral feeling, that i can never leave behind @↑

throw another stone at a glass house @↑

went out searching for an angel, then you came to me my darling @↑

━━RAFE CAMERON

whipped @mrsstarkey1

said you’re smoking less, and then you ashed it on your chest @idcntlikedarkness

this too shall pass @probably-writing-x

another? @↑

country club @a-aexotic

rafe defending pogue!reader @↑

no for one night stand @↑

i'd choose you over anyone @↑

cuddle buddies; part2 @fantasylandloser

tear-stained cheeks @sunraies

BULLET TRAIN

━━TANGERINE

safe house @quin-ns-moved

ÉLITE

━━GUZMÁN NUNIER

out of love; part2; part3; part4 @probably-writing-x

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

the way to his heart; part2 @adore-laur

little by little @↑

#susan's recs #fics recs #anthony lockwood x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #kaz brekker x reader #nikolai lantsov x reader #andrew!peter parker x reader #druig x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #regulus black x reader #prince caspian x reader #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #tangerine x reader #guzmán nunier x reader #carmy berzatto x reader

[fullmoonandstar]

Raphael reacting to waking up as the little spoon, even though his little mouse is smaller than the fiend. Like Tav's chest is pressed against his back, arms loosely but tenderly wrapped around his torso, their head resting by his shoulder blades as he feels the mortal's peaceful breath gently fanning the base of his wings. Perhaps the fiend even realizes that his tail has ended up coiled around one of Tav's legs.

Awwww anon, this is so adorable 🥺 I honestly didn't know what to add to that, so I just expanded it a bit. Hope you like it

Little Spoon

Raphael x gn!Tav Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: G Word count: 0.2 k

His mind slowly emerged from the depths of sleep like a diver from the ocean. The sensation of having a body came back to him in pieces. The mattress that pushed up against the weight of his body and the soft sheets that covered him. His back was wet, a strange feeling that made him wonder. A weight pressed down on one of his wings; it had gone numb at some point in his slumber. 

Puffs of air tickled his neck and his shoulders in regular intervals, and a heartbeat ticked away, pressed against his back. 

Right, they were here. The little mouse. His little mouse. The small body pressed against his backside and their arm draped over him, holding him as if he were something to be protected. He glanced over his shoulder, trying not to rouse them. They had shrugged off the blanket, and their sweat told the story of how warm they must be, so close to the fire that burned in his veins. 

In his sleep, his tail had gained a life of its own. It loosely wrapped around the little mouse's leg in an almost loving embrace. Raphael rested his head on the pillow once again when the arm tightened around him. 

"Stay a bit longer." Their sleepy voice mumbled, and they nuzzled their face into the space between his shoulder blades. He pressed their hand to the centre of his chest with his, covering it almost completely. 

So tiny, he thought.

"As you wish." 

----

Check my Masterlist for more

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion #raphael bg3

[scuttlingcrab]

Raphael going to a noble party of some kind, disguised as a human, in order to find and schmooze with current and potential clients. While engaging with one such individual who seems particularly taken with him, from across the room he spots Tav, for once not dressed in adventurer's gear but decorated with finery. The Hero of Baldur's Gate is so radiant that, at a glance, one could be forgiven for mistaking the mortal as an angel in disguise. However, like the cambion, Tav also has noble-born partygoers vying for their attention, asking (and more often than not being granted) a dance with the hero, and perhaps gossip of nobles approaching the hero with dowry proposals and attempts at wooing this illustrious guest begin to reach the fiend's ears.

You're the best, thank you so much for sending me this prompt! x

Summary: Raphael attends the annual Baldur's Gate Masquerade Ball and accidentally runs into his little mouse.

Dance with the Devil

(Image via venenum-cadaverinus)

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women and devils merely players. 

It was a warm summer’s evening. A gentle breeze came from the sea, as frequent as the lapping waves, temporarily relieving the heavy layer of humidity that hovered in the air. The full moon blazed, illuminating all below it like a spotlight.

The annual masquerade ball had begun, attracting not only the richest, noblest citizens within Baldur’s Gate, but of the entire Sword Coast. They all flocked to Wyrm's Rock Fortress, togged up clad in glittering gowns, spectacular silk suits, and meticulous masks that expertly hid the true identity of every guest.

Per annum, the masquerade highlighted the achievements of Baldur’s Gate, from elections won to cities conquered, and what a year it had been for all mankind. With the narrow defeat of the Elder Brain the city undoubtedly had something magnificent to celebrate. Despite more than half of the city still in ruin, Wyrm's Rock itself littered with holes, and the political climate in bedlam; there was hope. And with hope, lies potential. 

Raphael arrived at the ball not in his usual show of sparks and embers, but by modest carriage. He smiled to himself, finding amusement in this mortal way of traversing the planes. These simple minded creatures always had such an imaginative way of thinking. He exited the coach and took a deep breath, absorbing the salty sea air and the multifarious scents of the mortals swimming past him. He had come concealed as a human, but his clothing was nothing but lavish. He couldn’t resort to anything less than that. 

He wore a red velvet three-piece tuxedo with a form fitting tailcoat. The colour was bold, yet the details simplistic, he wouldn’t dare distract from the show-stopping piece of his costume: the mask.

Raphael was hidden behind a horned gold leaf mask, the horns replicating the very ones from the Crown of Karsus. He made the mask himself, the artistry immaculate, showcasing Raphael’s pristine attention to detail. The intricate floral designs carved into the mask not only added panache but amplified the aesthetic beauty of the disguise.

A gaggle of women stopped to take in Raphael’s outfit, nodding to him in admiration. He returned their stares with a polite bow, before they moved along, giggling. Raphael’s body increased in warmth, his cheeks flushed with pride. 

This was a night of celebration not only for Baldur’s Gate, but for Raphael. Since acquiring the Crown of Karsus, he barely had a moment to himself. There had been no celebrations awaiting him in the House of Hope, no companions to congratulate him on his arduous labour. The very nature of his ambitions subjected Raphael to secrecy and solitude, he was forced only to rely on himself. Naturally, as soon as his hands cradled the Crown, he went straight to work, preparing for the next course of action in his ongoing plans to conquer the Hells. The Crown was just the beginning. 

Symphonious music, exuberant laughter, and the electrifying hum of excitement could be heard even from the outskirts of the Fortress. The entire fortification was vibrating, brought to life by the very nature of the ball.

As Raphael showed his invitation to the guards, and passed successfully through the security checks, he bit his tongue to stop himself from prematurely combusting into flames. His chest rattled, as if it might burst open at any second from the thrill of the evening to come. 

Raphael made his way through the interior of the fortress, completely anonymous, blending smoothly into the crowd. No room was off limits, he was free to roam where he pleased; to indulge in the festivities, and even prey on guests without suspicion if he felt so inclined.

He soon found himself on the upper floors, walking into the Audience Hall. It had been turned into a ballroom, the hive of the masquerade. A band was comfortably sitting where the throne would’ve been. The walls behind them had yet to be repaired from the blasts that sieged the fortress when the Elder Brain attacked. It quite suited the occasion, bringing in the cool evening air and offering a dramatic view of the oceanfront. 

Raphael leaned against a stone wall towards the edge of the room, observing the mortals mingling and twirling. Everyone’s movements were synchronised effortlessly, there wasn’t one person who didn’t belong. He must throw a ball like this in Avernus once Zariel is defeated. Yes, it would be most joyous indeed. 

His toes tingled as he watched the gowns swirling, his body attracted to the movements like a moth to a light. As he took a step forward, he was suddenly blocked by a mysterious woman. She wore a tall lace headdress that made it appear as if she was looming over Raphael. Her blue gown hugged her bosom, revealing a little too much to those who happened to sneak a peek or two. Her face was completely obscured by a white porcelain mask, the lips painted red. She bowed to Raphael and he returned the motion. 

“I was quite taken by your ensemble.” The woman began, her voice deep and rusty. 

“I am most honoured, my lady. “

“It smells of money.” The woman’s eye’s twinkled behind her mask. 

Raphael raised an eyebrow, amused at the bluntness of this woman. He couldn’t help but respect the efforts, despite her obstructing his path to the dance floor. 

“My accounts are indeed… healthy.” Raphael responded. 

“Mmm. And what of your relationship status?

“I am unfortunately married to my work.” 

“As they all say...”

The woman began to say something else, but her voice faded as Raphael caught wind of something stirring at the far end of the hall. His ears twitched as the murmurs rose, the distant rumbling growing like a massive wave, enveloping the entire ballroom.

Raphael turned to find the source of the commotion, his eyes immediately falling on heaven incarnate. His mouth fell open as he took in this new creature. He delicately placed his hand on his heart, to make sure it was still beating.

She was stunning, the most beautiful thing he had laid eyes on in this mortal plane; every movement she made was graceful, dignified, and had purpose. Her black strapless gown glittered under the candlelight, showcasing her broad shoulders and pale skin. The train on her gown seemed to levitate as she moved across the room. The mask she donned was made of silver feathers that fanned out towards her forehead. Truly, a celestial in disguise.

“If you will excuse me. It has been most illuminating. May your future be… opulent.” 

Raphael dismissed himself with a bow. He was certain he heard the woman tut in disapproval, but he was already in pursuit; halfway across the hall to his new target.

A crowd was forming around the mysterious creature, growing with more eager souls as every second passed. Raphael lingered around the throng, trying to find an opportunity to strike. He edged his way in, closer and closer, his chest expanding, eyes glowing, as he focused his listening. Raphael needed to hear the creature’s voice, which was no doubt as angelic as her appearance.

As he approached the centre, he was bombarded by mundane talk from the vultures circling the creature; dowry proposals and failed attempts at wooing her with what sounded like children’s rhymes. Cheap tricks!  

Raphael instead titled his head towards the creature in another attempt to identify her. His nose picked up the delicate scent of cloves and roses. Cloves and roses… he gasped. He searched the creature’s face again and instantly recognised the pale scar on her chin. It was minuscule, but Raphael never missed a detail. Could it be… Tav? The little mouse?

It felt like a lifetime ago since their last encounter when she so valiantly delivered the Crown of Karsus to him. Raphael’s pride and glory, his ascension. Their exchange had been brief, but Raphael would always be eternally grateful.

He often had Tav in his thoughts long after they parted, wondering how she coped; but she soon occupied less of his mind the more fires he had to put out, the more he had to focus on preparations against Zariel’s forces. This evening he would rectify his error.

Raphael beamed as he watched Tav deny one vulture after another. Such confidence, my how she’s grown. His little mouse, so furious, so brave. 

Without hesitation, Raphael swept in, lightly tapping Tav on the back. Her skin felt cool against his touch, and he fought against his temptations to leave his hand resting on her shoulder.

“May I have this dance?” Raphael asked. 

Tav froze at Raphael's touch, stopping her dialogue with the random mortal. She bowed in an apology to them before turning around to face Raphael. Tav’s nose twitched as she took him in, her eyes slowly lighting up in recognition. Raphael gave Tav a cheeky smile, extending a hand towards her. 

There was a pause before Tav nodded, placing her hand upon his. The whispers hushed and silence filled the hall as Raphael guided her to the centre of the ballroom just in time for a new song. 

Raphael whirled Tav into his arms as soon as the music began. She fit perfectly against him, like a missing puzzle piece. Tav squeezed his hand as Raphael led and she followed, never missing a beat. 

“I almost didn’t recognise you without those tattered blood stained clothes, little mouse. You clean up well.” 

“It’s been a long time since anyone called me that, ” Tav said, smiling fondly. “You are a sight for sore eyes. Thank you for rescuing me from those creeps.” 

Raphael chuckled. 

“And you are a most welcoming sight indeed. Positively ravishing. I never thought I’d see you attending an event such as this.”

“I could say the same of you. Don’t you have more important things to be doing than playing dress up?”

“Ever so perceptive. This evening I am merely here for entertainment, taking note of my stock. It pleases me to see some of my most prestigious, favoured clients doing so well for themselves.” 

“Our deal is done.”

“Yes, in truth, but you are an alumni, so to speak. It’s only natural for me to check-in from time to time.”

The dance grew more intimate as they continued. The world around Raphael vanished as he stared into Tav’s eyes. It was just the two of them, how it was always meant to be. Raphael was connected to Tav, their movements fluid as they circled the dance floor. He could feel Tav’s breath on his neck, her breasts pushing against his chest, as he let the rhythms direct their next steps.

“You are a natural.” Raphael said, breaking the stillness.

“Don’t act so surprised.” 

“Here I was thinking I knew everything about my favourite client.”

“Surely I won’t be your favourite forever?"

“Some have come close since we last spoke, but you still have top billing.”

Tav's cheeks unexpectedly blushed as she stared at Raphael through the mask, her eyes softening. Raphael stared back at the creature, bemused. He attempted to open his mouth in response, but found he was at a loss for words.

Instead his stomach fluttered, his own skin burned hotter than Avernus, nearly causing him to miss a step. He had to focus, now was not the time to get lost in these emotions, to think about romancing a mortal. It was a sign of weakness. 

The music ended and the ballroom erupted into applause. Raphael bowed deeply and upon looking up at Tav, noticed tears in her eyes. Without warning, Tav hugged Raphael, pulling him in close. 

“Now, now... this evening is not for tears but for celebration,” Raphael whispered into her ear. 

She laughed before releasing Raphael from her embrace. Raphael quickly snapped his fingers, a fresh rose appearing in his hands. He bowed a final time, presenting it to Tav.

“To the hero of Baldur’s Gate!” Raphael roared.

The applause continued, getting louder and louder. 

“And to the bearer of my future.” Raphael continued, in another whisper. “I must bid you adieu. Please don’t let me keep you any longer.” 

“Thank you again, Raphael. I’ll make sure to pay you a visit.”

“And I’ll always be waiting, little mouse.”

Raphael promptly took his leave, vanishing into the crowd. He paused before exiting the Audience Hall, watching Tav from the shadows. She continued to hold herself high as she welcomed another dance.

Perhaps he would invite her to dinner. After all, it was long overdue. 

#writing #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #fanfic #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #tav x raphael #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael #raphael baldurs gate 3 #fiction prompts #asks #my dream

[red-dead-sakharine]

Tickles - Part 7

Raphael x Tav, RaphaelPOV, soft!raphael, gn!tav, fluff, hurt/comfort, body worship, conflicted!cambion

Part 1 | P 2 | P 3 & 4 | P 5 | P 6 | P 7 | | P 8

Raphael sat at his desk in the boudoir. He had sent Korrilla to to keep an eye on the adventurers again. While he had an avid interest in keeping them alive before, his investment has now skyrocketed to new heights. The mere thought of losing his little mouse has become unbearable to him.

He wrinkled his nose. The fact that he had become so... attached to this mortal bothered him somewhat. It was a weakness. It was un-devil-like. It was pathetic. That was his fiend blood talking, and he knew it. His mortal side longed for Tav's affection. Their touch. Their understanding. He's had a long and difficult life. But never in all his years, has he felt as whole as he did last night, when his little mouse held him tight and told him he was perfect. He had craved this. And he feared it. And he hated it. The thought of killing the mouse crossed his mind. It would prevent him from more mistakes. From indulging in this weakness. But he could not bear the thought.

He sighed. No matter how much his father's blood rebelled against it, he would keep his mouse safe. And once the brain was defeated and he had the crown, he would keep them close and never let go again.

He threw a glance at the clock, almost midnight. His fingers drummed impatiently on the desk - just once. But that already was something that irked him. It was unlike him to be restless. When you live for thousands of years, you perceive time differently. But today he was eager to act, but he had to wait for the right moment and it made him antsy. A feeling he rarely experienced.

Finally, a knock on the door frame announced Korrilla. Raphael's insides were doing handsprings, but he kept his composure and projected a picture of calm superiority on the outside. Though as the dwarf approached, his nose wrinkled again, "What is that smell?"

"Your favorite misadventurers have been trudging threw the sewers all day." Korrilla grumbled slightly.

"Ah." That explained things. "I take it, they are back at the tavern now?"

The dwarf nodded, "Yes. When I left them, they were fighting over the rights to the bathtub."

The devil's nose flared in disgruntlement. This would mean he'd have to wait even longer for them to all get to sleep. He tried not to let his frustration show, "Did anything of note happen today?" "They seem to have found the entrance to the temple of Bhaal but couldn't get through the door." Korrilla reported. Raphael hummed in acknowledgement, "They'll figure it out, I'm sure. Good work." he waved the warlock off, and she nodded and left. No doubt to go burn her clothes. That sewer stench would never get out.

The devil's fingers drummed on the desk once more. How could a day feel so impossibly long?

He waited several more hours - the finger drumming on the desk slowly increased in frequency as the night dragged out. In the early morning hours, Raphael finally stood up. Surely, the tadpoled mortals have had enough time now to get clean and fall asleep.

Still, to not end up in another embarrassing disaster, he decided to appear outside their room. And so he did. With a flash of fire and ash, he appeared right in front of the door to their room in the elfsong tavern. The place was quiet for the most part. He could hear some drunkards from below, but at this time of night most of the merry folks had already passed out. He cautiously put his ear to the door. Nothing. Good. Slowly, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He scanned the room for the vampire spawn, but he wasn't there. Probably out feeding. Next he looked for the animals. He didn't see them at first, but a few steps further into the room, he spotted them: Curled up at the foot of the tiefling's bed. A quiet spell later he could be sure they wouldn't wake, and disrupt him.

Now for the reason he was here...

[mood music]

He turned to where he had been during his first visit, and there they were. His little mouse. He quietly moved over to them - and frowned. There was a bruise on Tav's face, that hadn't been there last time he saw them. Who dared to hurt you, mouse!? He was angry at whoever caused the damage, but he was also quite confident that the culprit was already dead. His favorite mortal probably cut their way through several Bhaal cultists today. The thought made him smile. He made a mental note to try and watch from the shadows sometime. He found the image of his mouse covered in the blood of their enemies incredibly arousing.

He took a deep breath and shook the thought off, though. This was not why he was here. He knelt down in front of Tav's bed and looked them over. They were lying belly-down, the uninjured side of their face squished against the pillow. It looked a bit funny, but also incredibly endearing to the fiend. He smiled at the picture and just drank it in for a while.

When he had memorized every detail of the sight, he began to act. He gently pulled the blanket down to their waist and snaked his fingers below the nightshirt. He leaned in, hoping the mortal would smell his perfume, and he whispered every so quietly into their ear, "O apple of my eye..." He meant to wake them as gently as he could, to avoid repeating that calamity from last time. His fingers gently stroked Tav's back. He enjoyed the feeling of their skin. Soft. Vulnerable. A few battle scars here and there, that told tales of victory and prowess. "Little mouse... I'm in your house." he whispered and smirked at his own rhyme. His fingers ran across their shoulders, one by one, tracing the shoulder blades. "You're so fast asleep, little mouse, you don't even wake at this..." He whispered against their ear, and his fingers traced back down their spine. Perhaps they are too exhausted. It didn't matter. He kept caressing their back, their sides. And he looked at their face. That beautiful - squished - face, looking so peaceful and without worry. Looking so kissable. He leaned in, "Little mouse, you're such a sight." His words were barely audible, and he followed them with a gentle kiss to Tav's cheek.

That finally caused them to stir. They inhaled deeply, and without even opening their eyes, a smile formed on their lips, "Raphael?" they mumbled into their pillow. He smirked to himself. They knew his smell. "Yes, little mouse. I was in the area and thought, I'll stop by..." he lied in a whisper, and stroked their back gently. Their smile widened, "Glad you did." they mumbled sleepily. He brought his face close to theirs and placed another kiss on their temple, "Just relax, sweetling." And they sighed happily. His hand moved up to run through Tav's hair. Another sigh. He could not help himself but to place another kiss on their cheekbone, and their smile grew even wider. They liked what he did. He felt proud and happy. He caused them to feel good, and it was his accomplishment.

His hand trailed down their back. Now that Tav was at least somewhat awake, he became more daring. He placed his hand at their waistband and waited - an unspoken request, like the ones before. He looked back into Tav's face, and their eyes were open now. Looking at him in the darkness, still smiling. He had his answer. His hand slid down into their pants, gently stroking over their butt cheeks, one by one. The mortal's eyes closed again. Enjoying the attention.

His heart swelled with pride. Never would he have thought that he'd feel so good, just from causing some mortal pleasant feelings. But he did. He felt elated to be the cause of their happiness. And after all, this wasn't just some mortal. This was his little mouse.

For a short moment, the feral fiend inside him wanted to tear off their clothes and ravage them on the spot. But he calmed the monster and pushed it away. This was not why he was here. His fingertips ghosted over the mouse's rear, and he heard them sigh. It made him feel so good. This was better than a short moment of sexual relief. This was... soft.

He began to like soft.

He looked back into Tav's face and they were still smiling. Likely drifting somewhere between waking and sleeping. He would be gone by the time they woke up in the morning. Perhaps they will think this was all a dream. He wasn't sure if he liked that idea, or if he wanted them to remember his visit. He pondered over it, while he continued to caress their butt cheeks, then their back again. Trailing down their right arm - the only one he could reach. His kissed their hand. Another sigh. He trailed kisses up their arm. That happy smile never left their face. Their beautiful face. He leaned in again to place a kiss on their bruised jaw. They hummed. Another on their cheek. The smile grew larger again. Another on their temple. On their nose. And after a moment's hesitation, on their lips. They kissed back lightly. Obviously more asleep than awake, but still reacting to his touch. He was filled with love. He kept going, gently stroking and kissing them, until the sun poked their first rays of light into the room.

He finally stood up to leave. But he hesitated. He wanted them to know, he decided. He wanted them to know, it wasn't just a dream. He used his powers to nick a single rose from a bouquet he had in the devil's den. It appeared between his fingers, and he left it on Tav's bedside table.

Then he bent down to place a parting kiss on Tav's cheek, and pulled their covers back up to their shoulders. He drank in the picture for a few more moments before he vanished. Leaving behind the smell of his perfume, ash and sulfur.

His heart sang with delight,

he had enjoyed this night.

👉 Part 8

#fanfiction #tickles rds #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #ace #bg3 #body worship #free use (sorta) #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #rds #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Hun something else I want to ask is if you would do a hybrid dragon Yan..? Forgot to mention it in the last ask because I forget ideas a lot <3

-from the one anon who said to use 3 names you like :)!

P.s I’ll probably refer to myself as this forever now hun

I'm sorry this took so long!! Here it is:

CW: mild violence, video game logic

Yandere!Dragon x GN!Reader

The winds in the mountains were cold enough to slice open skin and leave blisters.

Traveling up towards the sky was (Reader), a warrior known throughout the lands for their incredible feats, climbing up the snowy pass towards the dark splotch on their map.

The dragon's lair.

Only human in appearance, (Reader) had slaughtered almost every type of monster and fiend in the continent, sending fear through all living beings. They were rumored to be immortal, since they seemed to be capable of recovering from any wound they received, no matter how critical. Whatever life threatening hit they took, and no matter how certain their death seemed to be, (Reader) would only black out, waking a few hours later. A warrior without a past, without a home, who only lived to kill.

Slaying a dragon would be the last creature on the killer's list, having already defeated deities and apocalypse level threats. It wasn't that a dragon would be harder than killing a god; they just hadn't gotten around to it.

In the grand scheme of life, dragon slaying would be a side quest.

(Reader) doubted that the battle would be difficult in any sort of sense; aside from their incredible physical attributes they also had legendary gear such as "the Ring of Absolution" which was forged from the tears of a Golden Warrior. That ring alone made it impossible for enemies to block their attacks or use "break out" to parry.

Upon finding the cave and entering recklessly, (Reader) wished that someone had told them sooner:

That "when you're at the top, the only place to go is down.."

A blast of fire knocked their helmet off their head as the heat pushed them back. Shocked (and a little excited) the warrior raised their vampiric sword. Inside the cave, a giant red and golden dragon sat posed, muscles tense and eyeing the invader with intrigue.

"Who are you, to enter my home?" His deep voice sounded more confused than offended. And when (Reader) pointed their weapon at him in response, he chuckled. "Adorable little human, if you wish to live a long life, leave this cave now, and I shall spare you."

(Reader) shouted, igniting a glowing light around their body, then lunged, slashing at the beast.

To the dragon's surprise it hurt.

"Foul little thing!" He snarled, attempting to blast the human with another bolt of flames (this time not as a warning) but the fighter rolled out of the way, effectively dodging the attack. (Reader) thrust again, angering the dragon when he found that he could not block the sword, the blade passing his harder scales and hitting his soft flesh despite his guarding.

Amidst the rage and frustration a new emotion began forming within the centuries young being; respect.

There were no dragons he wished to associate with, there were no creatures that approached him of their own free will. He was alone. For a very, very long time. For he was not just a dragon..

He was Targov the Malicious.

A dragon of legend, ender of nations, killer of kings..

And his health was slowly being chipped away by the steel of a mortal.

(Reader) did not know who the dragon was, only that this was the closest location for a dragon nest.

"Small human.. I have a proposition for you."

The warrior paused, tilting their head as they waited for the dragon to continue.

"You have impressed me, and you have earned my admiration. So I offer you a chance at life eternal: become my mate, and ascend to a higher state of being.

You shall never want nor need for anything. I will be your willing servant for all of eternity."

It wasn't the first proposal (Reader) had received, yet it was certainly the first from a beast. They stepped back a fraction as though his words caused them to stumble. His request sounded so genuine that it almost killed their blood lust.

Almost.

Disappointment and betrayal filled the dragon's eyes as (Reader) suddenly threw their sword like a spear, lodging it into Targov's chest, a feather's distance shy of his heart. But even that only further fueled the growing need he had for the mortal. And the obvious solution to the warrior's resistance was to make the choice easier for them.

Targov flew forward, but instead of attacking like (Reader) had predicted, he grappled the human in his talons and continued faster, propelling them both out of the cave and into the sky as he built speed.

The wind jostled the surprised human about like a rag doll as they rose higher into the atmosphere. Their ears popped painfully, but they could still hear the roaring laughter of the dragon.

"HA! Now what do you say, human?! Shall you be mine? Or shall I drop you?!" He held the adventurer loosely by the fabric visible under their armor in an attempt to frighten them. But what he saw next made his heart falter.

His eyes widened as (Reader) smiled triumphantly, raising a dagger while maintaining eye contact, and sliced off the part of their outfit Targov held onto, willingly allowing themselves to fall.

It was just a fall.

Yeah, it would hurt. It would hurt like a son of a bitch, but (Reader) knew they wouldn't die. They never did.

However, their near immortality was something that Targov didn't know about.

Before his emotions could fully form into separate feelings, Targov dove, recatching the little human, now with a more secure grip, and flew back to his home, his heart beating a billion beats per second once it restarted.

(Reader) was thrown to the floor by the dragon seconds before being blinded by a bright flash. The dragon was consumed in a bright white glow that illuminated the cave, morphing into a more human appearance, with deep golden skin and red hair. His horns and claws still remained, but as (Reader) could see clearly from his lack of clothes, was now mostly human. He charged towards (Reader), face twisted in his confusing mix of emotions. Anger, shock, hurt, feelings his adrenaline wouldn't give him time to categorize as he closed in on the confused human.

He hoisted (Reader) up by their neck.

"You'd really rather die than be mine?!" The enraged dragon screamed.

Struggling to breathe, the warrior grabbed one of his scaly hands while trying to smack his face with their dominant hand.

The glint of their ring caught Targov's attention, who recognized it instantly. He had been alive for a very long time, and killed many a god during his rebellious years. Sharp teeth sunk into (Reader's) fingers, the dragon biting their hand lightly, suddenly, earning a shocked cry from the struggling human. Targov dropped (Reader), pulling the ring off their finger with his fangs as he did so.

The warrior didn't notice their missing ring until they regained their composure and attempted to attack the humanoid dragon, who blocked their attack perfectly fine.

Targov wore the ring on his smallest claw.

"I see I was right about you.." His deep voice chuckled, but (Reader) couldn't tell if it was out of amusement or fury. "A fellow God killer.. who better suited to be my mate?"

He grabbed (Reader's) wrist, and despite it's low speed, the ring prevented (Reader) from dodging.

"Welcome home, my mate."

"Even if I have to break you, I will have you. And you will learn to love me."

#sorry this took so long #ive been so busy #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere dragon #yandere dragon x reader #gn reader #video game logic #short drabble #dragon hybrid #dragon x reader

[djmorn]

Wing Care

Raphael x Warlock!Reader (GN)

A/N: YOU WANNA TAKE CARE OF YOUR IDIOT PATRON WHO PICKED A FIGHT WITH A MORE POWERFUL DEVIL? In that case let’s just ignore that the House of Hope has healing pools which Raphael could use because I wanted to write something sweet. So here is my piece of fluff for the day.

Summary: Raphael comes to you with an assignment. But the devil seems a bit worse for wear and before he can start discussing the details with you, you offer to help him take care of his torn wings like the loyal little warlock you are.

You were meant to meet at the Devil’s Den. It is where Raphael would often conduct his business and so you were quite familiar with the place. Since Mamzell Amira has seen you visit many times before she just waved you through as usual while shooting you a playful wink.

Upstairs there was no sight of Raphael. His abode was the usual lavishly luxurious dwelling place befitting your extravagant patron. With a sigh you let yourself fall back into one of the adorned chairs and folded your hands in your lap. Nothing to do but wait. You knew better than to rummage around his belongings.

Then finally the atmosphere crackled, the air seemed to grow thicker and a well-known warmth spread all about. In a whirlwind of magic Raphael appeared before you. The fiend had shown up in his cambion form and you were glad to have closed the door, any possible uproar of panic avoided should a guest from the brothel get lost up here.

Raphael smiled: ‘There you are.’ As if it had been you who was late.

You swallowed the insolence edging on your tongue and bowed. ‘Raphael.’

Once you raised yourself up again you took a closer look at your patron. Raphael stood proud and tall as ever, horns close to touching the ceiling, his yellow eyes shining with cruel confidence. He always was a sight to behold as he towered over you. Yet something was amiss today. Usually the fiend would spread his wings out wide as soon as he’d shed his human appearance, it was one of his many magnificent theatrics that enthralled you and put fear into the hearts of his negligent contractors. Not this time though. Raphael kept his wings closer to his body, almost folding them up, and you could not help but notice that his left wing kept twitching, seemingly of its own accord.

As he saw you scrutinising him the cambion cleared his throat to direct your attention back to his face. ‘Listening to what I have to tell you of your assignment will certainly be of greater benefit to the both of us. So desist staring at me like an impertinent child who has never seen a devil before, will you? I’m a very busy man, as you well know.’ His wing twitched again and Raphael straightened his collar. You could not help but think your patron looked uncomfortable. ‘You are to pay a visit to this debtor of mine…’

‘Raphael,’ you said. He glared at you, bewildered by your interruption. ‘Raphael, did something happen to you?’

He leaned forward, pointing his sharp claw at you. ‘Listen here! I will happen to become a little angry with my favourite warlock if they continue to hold me up with their mortal follies. Understood?’

But before you could answer, Raphael clenched his teeth as if in pain and he quickly straightened up again, not able to suppress the groan escaping his lips. Without hesitation you went to his side, stretching out your arms to support the enormous creature.

‘Raphael! Master… What is wrong?’

‘Unhand me at once!’ Raphael growled. ‘There is nothing wrong with me. Engaging with you just happens to be awfully tiring today.’

You let go of him but did not move. At closer inspection you could see that there were fissures in his wings, the knuckles and joints displayed dark bruises and your patron tensed up all the more, maybe to keep the twitching at bay.

You crossed your arms in front of you. ‘Raphael, be real with me, please. It is quite obvious you’re hurt.’

‘Not at all. I had a… bit of a run-in with an unruly devil… Nothing that ought to concern you.’

‘Really now? Isn’t it my duty to serve you, Master?’ you asked in the most innocent voice you could muster. ‘I happen to have just the thing for that too.’ And with that you produced a box from your pouch, holding it out for Raphael to see. It was a salve.

‘I don’t need your charlatan’s remedy.’

‘Oh, no, Master. That’s not at all what this is. I got it from your last debtor: That mad alchemist. You remember?’ You looked about the room, your eyes falling on the pool.

‘Come on, Raphael. Sit by the pool and let me rub some of this on your wounds.’ You smiled encouragingly. ‘It’ll do you wonders, I promise.’

‘How much time did you spend in that alchemist’s laboratory? Inhaled too many toxic fumes in there? I don’t need your help.’

‘Fine. Then do me a favour and spread out your wings.’

Raphael blinked at you. ‘I beg your pardon? I should incinerate you for your rudeness today. Thinking you can order me around and fuss about me like a doting nanny…’

‘Because you can’t. You never refuse to put on a show, Raphael. You’re not doing it because you are insulted but because you can’t.’

Now amusement spread over his handsome features. ‘Ha!’ he spat. ‘I am as vigorous as one can be.’ He straightened his back, broad shoulders drawn back, spread his wings out, and with a flinch curled them back again as quickly as he could.

‘See?’ you said matter-of-factly, and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the water, Raphael in too much pain to resist. You sat him down on the edge of the pool, and took seat behind him. ‘Now, let me take a closer look. I swear, this will never leave this room.’

‘For your sake I should hope not, little mouse.’

You paid no mind to his harsh words and unscrewed the lid of the ointment, dipping two fingers inside and smearing them thoroughly with the cool cream. With care you started applying it on the cambion’s left wing – the bad one that kept twitching, delicately rubbing the edges of the torn membrane.

‘Tell me if I’m being too rough,’ you said. ‘I hope these will grow back together.’

‘They will in time. My wings have seen fiercer battles.’

You are tempted to ask him of them. To have him tell you of the long life he’s lived before your paths crossed. In the end you resist the temptation, indulging in Raphael letting you pamper him. You took care to knead the skin of his wings as gently as possible and applied the same ministrations to his bruised joints, coating them in salve and love.

It was a seldom occasion to have Raphael be so quietly beside you. For the entire time of your care the talkative devil did not utter a word. Although every now and then you could hear him sighing softly.

You moved over to the other, and once that was done finally gave some attention to the place on his back at the base of his wings, massaging the tension out of them. Raphael moaned and you grinned to yourself, glad to be shielded from your patron’s suspicious eyes by his broad frame.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my writing #my stuff

[toji-bunny-girl]

Ok but I fucking love the idea of God of War! Bakugou falling in love with Goddess of Life! Reader but not being able to express his feelings bc of his role.

The man in charge of so much death and despair for his own amusement stumbling upon the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen silently crying in their haven as she re-sows burnt crops, sends rain to cease the flames that burned villages, and redirects lost children back to their family. She weeps because she knows that as part of her life, she must always be shadowed by Bakugou since Bakugou is a reflection of mankind. As long as there is man, there is war. As long as there is war, there is Bakugou.

He feels kinda shitty about it because he’s never had to look at the aftermath of his doings; victorious feasts of rich meats and wines always came after leading corrupt leaders into battle. Seeing something so divine weep over something so fragile makes his stony heart twinge a little. He knows he can never approach you fully to court you because of your destinies. It kills him inside, so he might reconsider starting that war over a stolen pig.

HELPPPPP WHAT IN THE FORBIDDEN LOVE/UNREQUITED LOVE/ANGST/GREEK GOD AU/COLD-TURNED-SOFT/BAD BOY X GOOD GIRL IS THIS 😭😭😭

You’re the hope women and children pray to in times of war, watching over their trembling figures as they clutched their shaking hands together and wept your name.

Nurturer of Battlefields, hear me!

Mother of Light, hear me!

Lady of Spirits, hear me!

Let your children live through the destruction of men!

Oh Goddess of Life, hear me!

Now save your children!

Nights they’ve spent, whimpering chants to you while their fathers and brothers and husbands and sons fought under the other watch of another god. It was either one side of women and children captured and raped when all their soldiers fall, or the other side safe with abundance of stolen goods.

What could you do but to let the god of war decides for himself—and you’re left to weep as fallen men rot to death on their own land; unable to enter the gates of the underworld as they wander Earth as silent souls.

Victory was taken while loss hammered the damned to death, a side of women and children were safe while the other is left to be enslaved to the people who killed their lands.

While on the other hand—bloody red eyes and golden blonde hair, the god of war celebrates the wins he’d side with. People would offer sacrifices of slain bulls and goats and goods for the aid of his on their side; humankind would do anything to not be killed.

Songs and chants were written to him every night as they offer their offerings, singing about how the strength of Bakugou is worth 5 thousand of the strongest warriors.

He had enjoyed victories for centuries while your tears turn into rain that put out the fire of burning cities. He cheered through blood that splattered all over his golden armour while your tears washed dried red off of the grass of battlefields.

Slowly as time went by, prayers to you by the women in hiding ceased. After all, centuries of prayers did nothing for their land. It was all in the hands of Bakugou—the god of war.

Lord of Destruction, hear me!

Lord of Fallen Cities, hear me!

God of War, hear me!

Now pity the lives of us and bring us victory!

Lord of Slaughter, hear me!

Slay the damned enemies!

They’d pray and pray, with clutched hands and hopeful eyes. And you’re forgotten as the nurturer of battlefields.

At last, when the men were planing to burn all their fiend’s offsprings and wives alive—you discarded the dignity of a goddess and knelt in front of Bakugou. Rain poured as you pled for the lives of the innocent.

The war god had seen mortal being bowing beneath him, kiss his feet as they cried for their lives. But it was a first for a goddess to kiss his hand as she begged for mere mortal lives. You were almost powerless beneath his strength.

Humans could live but war was bound to happen. And he was bound to shine as marble statues in temples.

That was the tragedy. War can only end if life simply never existed; and you were the true mother of war.

It was only because you were a fellow god, he thought, impossible to kill that he no longer is appeased with the killing of women and children—and the Lord of Destruction would send thunders that struck huts and horses if he was angered.

Soon, Bakugou finds himself spending his days when he’s not battling in the quiet temple of yours. He would disguise himself as a bird, resting on a tree that runs with your holiness. Your tenderness and warmth for humanity were rare amongst the Gods and Goddesses, and he finds the epitome of beauty in that.

But what could he do with his heart? He birthed war and you begged against it. He thirsts for blood and you use your tears to wash it away. Mortals pray to him for the befall of their own kind and they pray to you for the lives of their children.

The both of you were never supposed to be destined. So all he could do, with his heart that beats feelings for the Lady of Spirits, was simply watch afar at your marble statue in your temple and listen to your weeps as yet another city burns.

#damnnnn #alright this ain’t bad i think #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha angst #mha angst #bnha bakugou #mha imagines #bnha imagines #katsuki angst #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou drabble #anime #manga

[werecreature-addicted]

if you had to defuse a bomb and the way to defuse it was to find something sexualise...able? about every type of warlock patron how would you do it

easies bomb I've ever defused. I'd argue that the power dynamic between a warlock and their patron is inherently sexy. it's a Boss x employee romance but for fantasy dorks and monster fuckers. Anyway something sexy and specific about each patron type (I think I got the main types from 5e at least)

Archfey- oh so the ruler of the Fey wants me as their pawn? say less. I wanna show the king how nasty the common human folk can get

Celestial- ALWAYS sexy fight me about it. Imagine a little angel being shown the pleasures of the mortal world by their devoted warlock

Fathomless- literally your first level spell as a fathomless warlock is called Tentacle of the Deep. need I say more.

Fiend- Again always sexy. I want to grab those horns while I ride

Genie- genies almost always have those wrist cuffs or other elements of bondage in their design. hot.

Great Old One- hello more tentacles in this eldritch horror, also a lot of their spells involve reading thoughts, so the Patron can listen in on all the dirty things I'm thinking

Hexblade- ugh this one is so romantic, bound to the blade that's bound to you, having to guard your sword the thing that's supposed to protect you??? insane concept. I'm kissing the sword. Also edge play go brrr obviously.

Undead/Undying- I'm combining these two YES I KNOW THEY'RE DIFFERENT but they're both sexy because Vampire lords can be in these categories. if you don't know how badly I want to fuck vampires idk what to tell you, look at my blog for a few more seconds and you'll piece it together.

#dnd #warlock #I love dnd #asks

[dark-and-kawaii]

I'm for disturbing you but I desperately need raphael who is so soft to the tav but tries to keep his act together in front of others which leaves tav chuckling which makes him blush aaaaaaaa

༺ 𝒜 𝒲𝒾𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝐹𝒶𝒸𝒶𝒹𝑒 ༻

Raphael

Notes: Firstly, you aren’t disturbing me!!! Secondly, thank you so much for this request!!! I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it!!! I love soft Raphael especially when he’s still in character!!!

Pairings: Raphael x Tav/Reader

Soft Raphael - Love - He Love His Little Mouse

In the midst of Avernus, a grand gathering was taking place. It was teeming with all kinds of devils, infernal beings, and wicked creatures, each indulging in their debauchery. At the center stood Raphael, his existence echoed with undeniable authority. By his side stood you, the object of his uncharacteristically soft affection.

Raphael, relishing in the attention, was entertaining a mesmerized group of devils with a tale of his prowess.

"I'll strike down Zarielle and all who defy me.” He declared, a devilish grin adorning his face. "Her imps torn asunder, their cries heard through Avernus in the wake of my wrath!" Yet, amidst his terrifying proclamation, a familiar chuckle reached his ears, it was coming from beside him. Turning sharply, Raphael sees you trying to suppress your laughter, your eyes shining with amusement. Without uttering a word, you walked away, disappearing into the sea of devils, leaving him with a tint of pink on his cheeks, his brows furrowing in irritation.

The other devils, ever so vigilant and quick to seize upon any sign of weakness, noticed Raphael's flushed cheeks. They took pleasure in mocking him, relishing the opportunity to undermine his reputation. "You sure you're going to strike Zarielle down when a simple mortal’s giggle nearly puts you on your ass?" jeered one, his voice dripping with malicious delight.

Raphael's pride was stuck, and he warned the imp's taunting words. "If you don't mind your tongue," he retorted through gritted teeth, "I'd happily demonstrate what it is I'd do to Zarielle."

Raphael, being easily irritated by anything that challenged his superiority, sought you out with a grimace. He navigated through the crowd, eventually locating you chatting with a group of lesser fiends. He seized your arm, his grip on you harsh and forceful as he dragged you away from the crowd. Spiteful and filled with frustration, Raphael grasped your chin forcefully, his presence emanating a wicked energy.

"Perhaps I've spoiled you too much, little mouse," he stated with a voice laced in spite. "What was the meaning of that little outburst of yours?"

You looked up at him meeting his piercing gaze, his beautiful brown eyes is like immersing oneself in warm melted chocolate, rich and enticing. The depth and intensity of his stare captivates, drawing you further into him… Standing on your tiptoes, you gently press your lips against his in a tender kiss. Raphael’s hands instinctively find their place on your hips with a gentle yet firm grip. His fingertips tracing the contours of your hip, grazing the fabric of your clothing.

As your lips part, you whisper in a hushed voice, "It's amusing to me how all the others are blinded by your wicked facade. They would never guess that the great Raphael, son of Mephistopheles, harbors such tenderness within." Your fingers trace a light path through his hair, "A fox's soft side, a treasure I alone possess,"

Your fingertips caressing his dark tresses, “You're not all sharp claws and fangs, but a creature who cradles his prey tenderly in the night." You smiled warmly as his face began to scrunch, his grip tightening ever so slightly but Raphael remained silent, "Protecting her instead of devouring her whole.” You noticed his reddening face and continued, "The mouse, enamored by the fox's gentle touch, yearns for its claws tracing down her back in every night's embrace when their souls entwine."

Raphael's cheeks flushed with a small blush. His defenses threatened to crumble, replaced momentarily with vulnerability. Yet, as he regained his composure, a sly smirk formed on his lips. "Oh little mouse," he retorted with an edge in his voice, attempting to regain his devilish demeanor, "naivety clouds your eyes, for wickedness resides where tenderness lies.” A dark chuckle emanated from Raphael, "Beware, dear mouse, of the sly fox’s cunning grace, as he may cast aside what’s left of his prey with no remorse to trace.” He looks off into his crowded house, his eyes finding Haarlep as his hand rests on his chin, “I’m sure Haarlep would surely make good use of what's left of you."

You, however, knew Raphael better than anyone else. You understood the possessiveness that fueled his words, the depth of his affection for you, "The fox is far too possessive to let such a fate befall his treasured mouse. Your threats only reveal how deeply you care."

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #tav #haarlep #raphael x tav #raphael #raphael x reader #raphael the cambion

[cambion-companion]

Master of the Mouse

Yes yes there is really filthy shameful smut ahead. Adding this to Tumblr so I can keep my masterlist comprehensive.

Raphael x f!reader x Haarlep

Word count: 3174

Crystal blue water cascaded in waterfalls from feminine statues that surrounded a familiar steaming pool.

You licked your lips, the warm water as inviting as the first time you’d stepped foot into Raphael’s boudoir.

“Back so soon?” Haarlep reclined upon a plush red chaise pushed up against the far wall. The incubus once again wore Raphael’s cambion visage.

Haarlep raised an unimpressed eyebrow, seemingly unbothered by your unexpected appearance. “We did have such a delicious time together.” He gave you a lazy smile. “Although your stamina is worse than Raphael’s, if you can believe it.” Haarlep sat up slightly, grinning at the internal conflict he sensed within you. “Did you come back for more of Haarlep? Seemingly the closest you can get to what you truly desire. Has my master remained distant? How preciously sad.”

Every word, spoken in that infuriatingly exaggerated lilt, hit every insecurity and frustration you’d been battling since your very first visit to Raphael’s House of Hope.

The demon rose with a knowing smirk, rolling his neck and stretching his wings wide. Your pupils dilated as they followed the languid movement, each action made purposefully sensual for your torment.

“I must admit, I am rather disappointed you didn’t follow through with retrieving that little contract of yours. It would’ve made for such a satisfying ending.” Haarlep took one step forward, pushing into your space, the heat rolling off his body already warming your clammy skin. “I may even be free now if it wasn’t for your…weakness.” He trailed a sharp finger down your cheek. “You’ve felt him, I assume? The heady rush in your pliable mortal body as Raphael took me in your form.”

You shivered, remembering.

“Speak, little trifling creature.” Haarlep caressed your neck, nails digging into your skin just enough to raise welts. “I wish to hear your voice. Raphael seems to appreciate when I speak using it.” His strong hand wrapped around your throat, resting gently against your collarbone with a dangerous promise.

“I…” You swallowed thickly, your hand closing around his wrist as he gave your neck a slight squeeze. “Yes, I’ve felt it. Multiple times.”

“It must rankle.” Haarlep laughed, his hand trailing down to your tattered disguise, cutting into the fabric of the dirty bodice. “He chooses not fuck you.”

Your eyes sparked fury and you pushed at his chest angrily, not budging the towering fiend an inch. “You’re just a cheap imitation. How does it feel to have been stripped of any free will and identity?”

You’d made a mistake. Taken one step too far. Only realizing your fatal error when his grip on your throat became suddenly tight as a vice, cutting off your air flow. You scrabbled futilely at Haarlep’s hand, your eyes widening in fear. The incubus’ face was a mask of dark intent, grim and deadly.

You released a jolt of magic, channeling lightning energy into the fiend. He twitched and gasped in pain, loosening his grasp enough for you to suck in several mouthfuls of air.

“The kitten does have teeth after all.” Haarlep sneered, tail lashing. “Be aware in this house we yank them out.”

You withdrew your radiant dagger, taking a defensive stance, drawing an amused laugh from the demon.

“My dear, you were foolish to return.” A new voice joined, the familiar cadence of Raphael. The cambion leaned casually against a marble column; arms folded over the chest of his human disguise. His keen brown eyes observed your standoff with raised brows. “Don’t damage my property.” He straightened and strode to you, addressing you and Haarlep. “Or I will be forced to take drastic measures.”

Raphael gave his incubus a sharp look over your shoulder. You felt the demon shrink back, temporarily cowed.

“Haarlep isn’t as magnanimous as I.” Raphael tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, taking a moment to consider you archly. “You truly have a death wish, my errant mouse.”

“You are impossible to reach.” You said, slightly breathless, the skin on the back of your neck prickling under Haarlep’s glare. “I need to speak to you.”

“Thus, you think it prudent to break into my home, in violation of our contract.” Raphael tucked his fingers beneath your chin and tilted his head at you. “The only reason you are not cinders beneath my feet at this very moment is because you chose to not pilfer my belongings.”

“Haarlep doesn’t count?” You asked, your shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Haarlep never counts.” Raphael answered firmly. “I admit to being pleased by the little surprise you left for me.”

You flushed, though your eyes did not waver from his. “Something you’ve used plenty to your advantage.”

“Naturally!” Raphael chortled, a devious twist to his lips. “Just who do you think you are dealing with, my dear?” He leaned in close, his cheek brushing yours. The air around you grew thick with heated tension. “Surely, this isn’t you complaining?”

“Not exactly.” Your eyelashes tickled your cheeks as you turned your face just enough for your lips to graze the corner of Raphael’s mouth. “Though I certainly have no interest in being second to a demon.”

“Bold little thing.” Raphael withdrew just enough to have a clear view of your face. “I do so like it when my clients have some vim and vigor.”

Raphael took a step back, his eyes roving your body. “Such rags you wear. The better to not draw ire from the residents of my house?” He smiled knowingly at you. “Such a blight upon your body offends me. Remove them.”

He could’ve just snapped your clothes away, baring you in an instant, but it was clear Raphael wanted to savor having you in this position. You slowly began unbuttoning the front of your blouse, heat blossoming pink across your cheekbones as you stripped in front of both fiends.

“Your embarrassment is darling.” Raphael slid a hand across your side, resting it upon your hip. “However superfluous. I’ve seen and felt all of your flesh while my incubus has worn it.”

You gave the devil a measured look from beneath your lashes. “You’ve never yet touched me, however. Not truly.”

“Nor you, me.” Raphael seemed to be suppressing his amusement, cocking his head to the side with a gleam in his eyes. His visage shimmered, wreathed momentarily in hellfire as it grew and transformed into his cambion form. A slightly mocking smirk tugged his crimson lips. “I have it on good authority you prefer me like this. A quaint little quirk I find endlessly endearing, love.” Raphael took a measured step toward you, leaning down until your noses brushed. “Do as I say, to the letter, and you might still get out of this alive. Yes?”

You swallowed, reading the fine line between danger and desire you now tread.

You nodded, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “Yes.”

“Good.” Raphael gave your hip a final squeeze before guiding you towards the familiar bed. “Now, lay upon your back and do not move until I permit it.”

Your obedience was the only option you had left, Haarlep followed and sat at the corner of the mattress as you laid down. You shuffled back toward the headboard until only your feet hung over the edge. Haarlep leaned forward and began stroking along the length of your legs, teasing the inside of your thighs. The demon gave you a deviously discerning look as you shuddered in response to his attention.

You turned your head as Raphael approached the side of the bed, holding a glittering decanter filled with dark liquid. Notes of a rich whiskey wafted on a warm breeze to your nose and your muscles tensed, knowing where this was going.

“Hold still. Don’t twitch, little mouse.” Raphael’s hand pressed firm upon your shoulder, Haarlep moved to hold your ankles together in one hand. “This spirit is hellishly expensive. It would be unfortunate for you if a single drop was wasted.”

With a flourish, Raphael unstopped the glass bottle and tipped it slowly and with finesse. You felt the warm liquid filling your belly button, the drip of it splashing your skin as Raphael finished his pour.

“What a sinful delight you are turning out to be.” Raphael bent over your quivering form. His breath ghosted hot upon your chest. “Now hold perfectly still for me.”

You tried valiantly to remain still, a futile attempt, your skin shivering as his tongue circled each breast and threatened to bite at your pert nipples. You tensed slightly in mild trepidation.

“Good girl.” Raphael murmured and chuckled, knowing exactly the effect his praise had. His tongue moved slowly down from the valley of your chest to your navel. You felt his tongue swirl against your skin as he slurped the whiskey down. Raphael groaned with satisfaction and gave your waist a sharp bite before withdrawing, squeezing your thigh approvingly.

Hands gripped your waist; you weren’t sure if they belonged to Haarlep or Raphael. You were maneuvered like a doll onto all fours, the hands on your waist slid to your neck and hair as Haarlep positioned himself on the pillows beneath your torso, guiding your hands to support yourself on his lap.

You knelt over Haarlep, your fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs, smoothing your thumbs over the various ridges marking his infernal nature. You glanced up at the demon wearing Raphael’s form, hellfire eyes gazing back down at you with a cocky grin.

“Now, pet. Enough words.” Raphael instructed, the bed dipping behind you and his warmth pressing against your rear. “Put that lush mouth of yours to better use.”

The tip of your tongue wetted your lips before you pressed a tentative kiss to the angry head of Haarlep’s member. Precum coated your mouth, the heat of it simmering and stinging your lips.

“Now is certainly not the time to act the part of a wilting flower.” Raphael murmured in your ear, his chest and hips pressing flush against you from behind. His words were laden and dripping with lust. “Pleasure me.”

You obeyed, taking the incubus into your mouth, the answering groan from both fiends reverberating through your own chest. Raphael began toying with you from behind, spreading your thighs further apart with one hand and circling your heat until he deemed you ready.

Raphael pushed his hard length into you, drawing a moan from deep within your throat, the sound choking around Haarlep as the demon guided you by the hair further down against him.

Your body began rocking beneath Raphael’s weight, he hissed against the nape of your neck, unable to reconcile the combined pleasure you and Haarlep were giving him.

“Enough.” Raphael’s hands gripped your hips possessively, partially holding you up as your thighs began to tremble. “Kiss her.” Raphael said, his voice lowered in pitch as he continued to thrust into you.

Haarlep obeyed, withdrawing his length from your throat only to take your lips in a scorching kiss, his hand beneath your chin. Haarlep’s long tongue delved into your mouth, your eyes rolled back in pleasure while Raphael fisted your hair from behind and tugged until your neck arched back for Haarlep’s hand to wrap around.

The incubus licked his spittle into your mouth, not releasing you until you swallowed. The effect was immediate. Fresh heat pooled in your belly. The fiends surrounding you laughed as your sounds of pleasure heightened in pitch, a buzzing molten sensation overtaking your limbs to the point of near collapse.

Raphael’s arms wrapped around your torso, grasping a breast non-gently as he lifted you and pulled your body back against his chest. “There you are.” He purred, licking the shell of your ear as you watched Haarlep begin stroking his cock still shining wet from your own saliva.

Raphael turned your head forcefully to him, licking his way across your jaw before his lips and tongue began tangling with your own. You gasped at the ferocity of his touch, your bodies rocking together, the friction building to a crescendo as the incubus spit coursed through your veins. Turning the edges of your vision white.

“So eager, a perfect jewel in the palm of my hand.” Raphael murmured, taking your bottom lip between his teeth until you whimpered. “My treasure, not yet. You still must be punished for interloping uninvited.”

Raphael withdrew completely from you, gesturing for Haarlep to follow suit. A strangled cry caught in your throat at the sudden absence of pleasure and warmth. You twisted around with surprising dexterity given your current state, glaring daggers at both fiends. You were able to tell which was Raphael by the especially amused smile on the smug bastard’s face.

“Ah, ah.” Raphael raised a finger to you, commanding you to sit back down upon his bed. His tail swished back and forth as a sly grin tilted his lips, showing off sharp white teeth.

You made your displeasure known by the petulant expression you gave him before settling back cross-legged, having no choice but to obey the devil’s every whim.

“Watch and squirm, little mouse.” Raphael kept his eyes on you even as Haarlep began biting and licking down Raphael’s body, deep red as a ripe cherry. “Keep your hands upon the sheets.”

Your gazes locked, your whole body flushing as the sounds of Haarlep pleasuring his master filled the room. You fidgeted, trying to gain some sense of friction, especially after Raphael closed his eyes and moaned low in his throat. “Be still, my dear.” His eyes opened to burn once again into you.

Haarlep continued moving between Raphael’s thighs, his wings stretching to either side as he knelt upon the luxurious rug. Raphael continued voicing his pleasure, to torment you more than anything it seemed.

After what seemed to you an eternity, the cambion pulled Haarlep by the hair away from his body. “Change.” He instructed tersely.

A glimmer of orange light surrounded Haarlep, the fiendish form shrinking into a smaller feminine shape. Your eyes widened as you saw your own visage blinking owlishly back at you, the second time you’d had such a disconcerting view.

The demon had the gall to blow you a small kiss, grinning as the blood drained from your face.

Raphael arched an amused brow as well. “Hands on the bedspread, pet.”

You felt the familiar tingle from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. The incubus in your form turned to face you and pushed their hips back against Raphael’s.

All three of you made a soft sound of pleasure.

Raphael didn’t bother to move.

He made Haarlep do all the work, the incubus riding back against his cock. All the while the cambion’s eyes remained fixed on you sitting meekly upon his bed, your aching fingers twisting in the silken sheets.

You bit into your bottom lip, tasting the iron of your blood. Your gaze became pleading, not able to look away from Raphael’s sharply angled face. His tail wrapped around Haarlep’s leg as he growled a command for them to move faster.

Haarlep bent forward, grasping the bedpost, the lewd sound of lovemaking teasing your ears and making your mouth water.

“Now, your turn to watch.” Raphael spoke, his teeth gritted from the effort it seemed to take him not to spend himself there and then. “Observe how I treat a playmate I actually desire.” He pushed Haarlep unceremoniously to the side and strode to you. His body pressed you back against the mattress as he crawled over you, his massive wings extending and falling either side of where you lay prone.

“Raphael.” You didn’t know what you intended to say, all thoughts silenced as his mouth found yours. All teeth and tongue, demanding a claim to you that no amount of magic could wash away.

He hungrily swallowed your moans and whimpers, his sharp nails digging into the flesh of your hip until beads of blood blossomed. Your hands touched and pressed against the thin flesh of his wings, his body shivering in response as he slowly began grinding down against your writhing hips.

Like the rest of his fiendish body, Raphael’s cock had ridges all along its girth. You experienced the dizzying stretch of your body accommodating his intrusion, the ridges catching and rubbing against your most erogenous parts. Your toes curled in response, your legs wrapping instinctively around Raphael’s torso. He answered with a growl as his sharp teeth found the base of your neck, marking you as his possession.

Hellfire surrounded your twisting bodies. It licked harmlessly against the sheets and your skin, framing the lurid scene in flickering light and shadow.

Pain and pleasure mixed with desire and fear.

Your fingers sought him, wrapping around his lower right horn. Raphael took your wrist and pinned the offending hand to the bed, giving your neck a reprimanding bite. “You are here to serve me.” He reminded you, his tongue soothing over where he’d broken skin. “Careful.”

You wanted to say something witty and stinging as a retort, but your mind was far too lust addled for such a feat.

You were his. He was not yours.

The igneous tension in your belly began seeping down into your legs. Your tired muscles tensed. You cried out your release against Raphael’s neck, clinging to the cambion as his body became the anchor to your own.

Raphael followed soon after, unable to withstand the way your body milked him. His seed burned into you as he slammed against your hips, each thrust drawing a cry of pained pleasure from your aching throat.

Raphael sat up slowly, observing the mess he’d made of you upon his own bed. He caressed a hand through your hair before digging his claws against your scalp, drawing from you a final mewl.

Looking conceited as ever, the devil stepped to the floor and rolled his shoulders, admiring his reflection in the standing mirror. “The wanton woman waltzed blithely to the devil’s den. With the sole aim to feel pleasure beyond mortal ken.”

Raphael grinned at you, self-assured and smug while you continued to desperately catch your breath, struggling to sit up. He tilted his head, gesturing lazily for Haarlep to approach from where the incubus had sat back against the chaise.

“Clean our guest.” With another wave of his hand, clothes reappeared upon Raphael’s form, his appearance collected and coiffed as though nothing untoward had occurred. “I have important business to attend to.” Raphael hesitated a moment, his glowing eyes looking you over then flicking to Haarlep as the incubus walked to where you still lay. “Keep her here. Our time together is not yet done. Oh, and Haarlep…” Raphael’s tone lowered to a menacing timbre. “Speak to Him about this little distraction and I will find out. I demand your silence, or I will personally strip that twisting tongue from your wretched mouth.”

Long fingers snapped and a shower of sparks enveloped Raphael, whisking him from the room and leaving you alone once again under the piercingly judgmental gaze of his incubus.

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

[merakiui]

hello! I'd like to participate in your event and check in at this lovely hotel of yours! could I ask for a flower bouquet from Idia? I would like some lemon squares and perhaps sugar stars (teratophilia/monster of your choice or werewolf whichever is easier!) if the latter is off the menu then just the lemon squares is fine. Thank you for hosting this event!

yandere!idia shroud x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, dub-con, teratophilia, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied stalking note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

Beyond limestone pillars twined with verdant strands of ivy, past orange groves in full bloom, and situated in the center of a marble platform raised ever so slightly, the culmination of humanity—a perfect, precious mortal of flesh and blood—sits in slivers of sunlight and brings brush to canvas. It is not the artistic ability that has left such a hellish, frightful creature so wonderfully enthralled but, rather, the nature in which you resign yourself to the arts, blinded by a celestial cloth, enveloped in the natural temperatures that surround you. Your hand is led by sensitive intuition, acutely aware of the colors that stain a weathered palette, and you grant life to marvelous mirages.

It is that same tender, loving hand that shall slay him, should he step beyond his bounds and interfere with the era of human creation. The world, as it has now become, is dictated by categories so studiously documented on stone tablets and spoken freely in the streets and on hilltops by philosophers excelling in all subjects. And within these groupings the gorgon is feared as the fiend and the human, most often, is celebrated as the courageous hero. Idia is neither fiend, nor hero, but for the sake of human comprehension he must be viewed as the former.

Humans are cyclical creatures, bound by schedules and the times brought on by night and day. Despite the routines they subject themselves to, whether out of necessity or for the sake of comfortable pleasure, humans continue to fascinate. Idia was never partial to them, and yet whenever he admires you his opinion regarding humankind brightens just like the far-off horizons you often portray. And every other day when the sun is at its lowest, just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting everything in creamy yellow-orange hues, you stand at your makeshift easel and paint the world as you hear it, smell it, taste it, feel it.

Idia is content to watch from afar, studying you as though you are the most abstract art he has even beheld. Most days, he’s grateful for the cloth that keeps your sense of sight contained, for if you were to look upon his ghastly countenance you would most certainly harden into an artifact lost to time.

And yet it is the allure of the unobtainable that pulls him to your person.

You feel the disturbance before you hear it. He’s standing near you; you're sure of it, and for a moment you halt your activity, head tilted skywards so that you may listen to the one who looms behind you. With a gentle breeze combing through the greenery and the sounds of various animals filling the silence, the atmosphere is rather tranquil. It’s broken by the fast-paced thrumming of Idia’s heart and his nervous, labored breaths. 

Interactions with humans—especially with his most beloved—are petrifying. But he persists in his endeavors, rooting himself to his spot, unwilling to retreat when he’s managed to accomplish this much. His hands hover above your bare shoulders, and for a second he wonders whether delicate, human hands would fit in clawed, monstrous hands. He’s far surpassed the point of no return and so, with shaking arms, he lowers his hands onto your shoulders.

You don’t flinch, but you do turn your head towards him and by some frantic instinct his eyes and the eyes of a dozen snakes squeeze shut. It is not you who will turn him to stone—this he knows well—but it’s the dread that you might remove your blindfold and bear witness to such a grotesque visage that has him shrinking away. 

“May I be of help?” you ask, and your voice wavers in a way that tells of uncertainty, of candlelight struggling to survive as it’s slowly snuffed, of worries laced with underlying curiosity. “Your hands are very…cold.”

Of course they are. He’s always cold. So cold. So lonely. What he’d do to warm himself in your embrace, to curl into your anatomy and feel that warmth between every sugared smooch, to tear the chiton from your figure and place frigid palms upon a perfect, pretty canvas. 

“S-Sorry… Sorry,” he whispers, cursing himself for his inability to speak syllables without a stutter or a hiss. “I… You… I… U-Um, I…”

With this proximity, he can smell the flowery fragrance that envelops your person. Even your canvas is decorated in shapes reminiscent of the most beautiful blossoms. Experimentally, he squeezes your shoulders, claws just barely raking over skin, and you flinch away. 

“W-Wait! I just want…” He swallows his apprehensions when one of the many snakes wriggling atop his head nudges him encouragingly. Another one lowers to your cheek, prodding you with its smooth head. You try to take a step back, but the tiny reptile hisses a low warning and you go obediently still. “I just want…t-to stay like this…a little longer…”

Please.

It’s wrong and many levels of forbidden, but the contact is everything he’s ever dreamed of. You’re a sanctuary—a beauty not meant for a monster—and if he could just show you that he could be your haven, in spite of snakes and scales, you might come to accept him. An impossible fiction, perhaps, but even so it’s all he’s desired.

With anxiety-riddled submission, you remain rooted to the marble platform. Idia’s grown daring now, a hand snaking along the length of your arm to entwine his thin, spidery digits with yours. Your breath hitches; he’d like to taste your heartbeat, feel it between pointed fangs, and savor your every sigh.

Carnal instinct leads him in a one-sided waltz. He presses himself against you, caging you between his arms and the easel, and ruts his hips slowly, awkwardly. He’s every bit as inexperienced in this as he is with the intimate intricacies of human affection, but then it’s the friction and the sound of your quiet, quickening breaths that has him hardening against the fabric of his own chiton. His presses kisses into your neck, stamps each one onto you like a special marking, until you’re shuddering in his arms. Tears dampen the cloth wound tight around your eyes, tracking down your cheeks in fat, salty drops.

“D-Don’t cry! Um… I… Ah…” Gingerly, he brings a finger to your face to swipe the tears away. Another snake nuzzles your arm, and another presses its head to your lips, a forked tongue flicking out to smell the potent scent of fear clinging to you. You whimper, and it’s equal parts heartbreaking and enticing. “It… It’ll be okay.”

It’s a promise. 

Trembling hands take hold of the fabric of your chiton, lifting it to reveal your rear. He’s thought of this moment for ages—though for a human ages could only mean a decade. It feels as if Idia’s fallen at your feet for worship ever since he opened his eyes on the world. 

“I… I’ve always thought about you—about this.” He places his palm upon the small of your back and observes how your spine straightens in alarm. “I think you’re…” His voice lowers anxiously. “R-Really nice…to look at.”

Your mouth opens and shuts, only to open once more when you gasp. His cock curves up between your ass, and he grinds against you with more determination this time, fueled with newfound confidence. Two fingers prod at your mouth and you deny him with a dismayed whine, but then there’s a cacophony of hisses coming from the many snakes on his head and you part your lips slowly. The digits slip inside, and you suck on them weakly, your cries coming in muffled hiccups. 

Idia exhales a giddy, breathless giggle. “Cute… Really cute…” Fondly, he strokes your cheek with his thumb.

If only he could brand this experience into the forefront of his mind forever…

Unless there’s a next time, and there will always be a next time. 

A forked tongue traces along the shell of your ear. He’s smiling a wide, toothy grin as he rolls his hips, searching for that fabled seventh heaven. And perhaps it's a delusion, but he thinks you’re matching his movements now.

Delusion or not, he’ll carve it into his very existence until he’s a sculpture chiseled whole.

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[fullmoonandstar]

Raphael going to a noble party of some kind, disguised as a human, in order to find and schmooze with current and potential clients. While engaging with one such individual who seems particularly taken with him, from across the room he spots Tav, for once not dressed in adventurer's gear but decorated with finery. The Hero of Baldur's Gate is so radiant that, at a glance, one could be forgiven for mistaking the mortal as an angel in disguise. However, like the cambion, Tav also has noble-born partygoers vying for the adventurer's attention, asking (and more often than not being granted) a dance with the hero, and perhaps gossip of nobles approaching the hero with dowry proposals and attempts at wooing this illustrious guest begin to reach the fiend's ears.

*Drops this and runs away*

Evening among Wolves

Raphael x afab!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: R Word count: 2.4 k CW: 2nd person pov, vaginal sex, desk sex, mentions of drinking

My Masterlist

The dress pinched in all the wrong places, and you shifted your weight with a stiff smile plastered on your face. How did noble women survive a whole evening in these shoes? They forced your toes into an unnatural position, and the pain was slowly giving way to numbness. The young man across from you blatantly stared at every centimetre of exposed skin, and you looked away, a ball of emotion forming in your gut. There were only three things that were good about now, the elegant way your hair was pinned up, the smell of the perfume you had put on and the drink in your hand.

The woman next to you was only marginally at hiding her stares than the other son of a noble across from you. You had been swarmed the moment word had spread that the hero of Baldur’s Gate had arrived, and you have been stuck in conversations for what felt like an eternity. Any battlefield would be preferable to this pit of vipers. This may look like a party, but in reality this was a minefield, and you had to survive until the end of the night without being stuck in an arranged marriage or having started an all out war between the factions of nobility. Both of which were very real possibilities.

A shadow passed in the periphery of your vision and a warm hand hovered over your exposed back so close you could feel the warmth but not touching. A velvety voice purred in your ear: "Good to see you again, little mouse."

Your head snapped in his direction, and your eyes confirmed your ears. Raphael hovered over your shoulder, and he flashed a smile at you before turning to the irritated nobles.

"I hope you don’t mind, dearest lords and ladies, but we have some urgent business to attend to."

The nobles in the circle grumbled, and all eyes were on you. What was he doing? You looked up into the devil’s handsome face, one eyebrow raised with the same question as everyone else. This was a way out. These nobles were irrational in their whims, at least with Raphael you knew what you had to expect.

"Yes, of course," you smiled stiffly. Raphael gestured to the left and you followed. He left the ballroom into the hallway where the crowd was noticeably thinner, and you took a deep breath. The atmosphere in there had been suffocating you.

You followed Raphael around a corner and up some stairs.

"I don’t think we’re supposed to be here." you warned.

"Since when has that stopped you?" he shot back but smirked.

"Fair enough."

He stopped in front of a door, and you heard a click before Raphael pushed the door open. It looked like a library, but Raphael didn’t stop in the room but opened the door to the balcony. The lights of Baldur’s Gate lay beneath, and the sound of the party downstairs wafted up. You just had to smile at the view over your home. The citizens had worked hard to rebuild in the past year, and soon the city would be back to former glory.

You glanced to the side where Raphael was leaning on the baluster looking out over the city. The black clothes were embroidered with gold and red, and he looked the more like nobility than all the people downstairs. You had never told anyone about the way your stomach twists when you look at his face, they would call you mad and they would be right. Raphael was in the business of charming people out of their souls, and given the status he had risen to despite being half mortal, he was exceptionally good at it.

"If you stare at me any longer, you might burn a hole in my face." he taunts softly.

Your face instantly burned with embarrassment, and you focus on the city again.

"Do you know why I’m so effective at what I do, pet?" he asked.

Because you bamboozle people with your charm? You thought, but out loud you said: "You talk a lot."

A soft laugh tickled your ear and you stiffened. Your whole body tingled with how close he was to you, and you felt stupid for the warmth that spread between your legs.

"I know exactly what everyone wants."

His fingers ghost over the exposed skin of your arms, and you hold your breath, waiting for his skin to make contact. It never comes. Raphael takes a step back and motions for you to follow.

The balcony leads to other rooms on this floor, and Raphael opens the door to one of them. A huge desk dominates the room and the high-backed chair rounded out the ensemble.

"Fielding's office." You breathed. "What are we doing here?"

Raphael stepped closer to the monstrosity of a desk and turned to you. In the faint light that fell in through the windows you could only make out his sharp ever so slightly lighter than the darkness behind him.

"I told you, little mouse, I know what you want."

You crossed your arms.

"And what’s that?"

"Let me paint you a picture." - you rolled your eyes, but Raphael continues -"Lord Fielding, one of the most influential people in Baldur’s Gate since Baldurean himself. He swayed the election of Gortash to become Archduke, he orchestrated the embargo 5 years ago that cost countless lives in and around the city. He does his best to keep the weak where they are, poor and dying, and widens the gap between them and his elite."

"Isn’t that right up your lane?"

A chuckle reached your ear.

"This is not about me." he said. "You hate him."

You didn’t argue with that.

"You want to get back at Lord Fielding, but doing anything drastic could make you plenty of enemies and plunge the city into chaos for the next decades."

"The evil you know," you said.

"Yes."

"So, what is your suggestion?" you ask.

"You can’t move against him, but that doesn’t stop you from doing something disrespectful."  You could hear the smirk in his voice, even if you could not see it.

"And what has that to do with you?"

"I’m going to participate."

With a step, he entered your personal space, the smell of his perfume, sweet and spicy, tickled more than just your nose. You wished you could blame the drinks for the wetness that pooled in your underwear, but alas you could not. His fingertips ghosted over your cheek and leaving a trail of heat.

"What do you say?" he asked.

You didn’t understand what he was saying, you were too focused on the feeling of his hot skin against yours. Blood was rushing in your ears and your heart hammered in your chest as if you were an adolescent again. You swallowed heavy.

"What kind of disrespectful thing do you mean?"

His face was close enough that you could see his eyebrow creep up his forehead. Raphael pushed the chair to the side. His hand gently held on to your hip, and you followed as he manoeuvred you to stand between him and the desk. You yelped and grabbed the fabric at his chest as he lifted you up onto the free space on the desk and his hips touched your knees, but Raphael didn’t force himself between your legs. His hands rested on the sides of your thighs. Your heart beat in your throat and a warm wave rolled over you.

"I see." you said. His thumbs gently rubbed over the fabric that still covered your legs and waited for your answer. Fucking on Fielding’s desk was indeed disrespectful, but doing it with Raphael?

Every nerve in your body tingled with awareness, the heat from his skin sank into yours and boiled your blood with a need you only ever allowed yourself to feel at night when you were alone. Something had to be deeply wrong with you that you were so attracted to him, but your mind had no part in the decision your body made. You crossed your hands behind his neck and pulled him in, crashing your lips together. For a heartbeat, Raphael was frozen in place and a flash of anxiety and disappointment rushed through you. In the next moment, his hips pushed between your knees, and you spread your legs for him. The half hard erection pressed against your clothed core, and you gasped, the perfect opportunity for Raphael to slid his tongue into your mouth. He explored your mouth, mapping it out as if he wanted to commit it to memory. Heat was rising in your veins, and you tangled the fingers of one hand in his soft hair while the other slid down. Ever since the first time you had seen him, you had wondered how his body would feel like. The lines on his face made him look like a middle-aged human, and you had expected him to be a bit soft, but the chest under your palm was firm muscles.

A sharp pain in your lower lip drew a yelp out of your throat. Raphael had nipped at your lip while pulling back.

"You’re quite handsy, little mouse."

He took half a step back, and you managed not to whine in disappointment.

"I’m not leaving." The taunting tone could not cover up the reassurance in his words.

In the dim light you could not see what he was doing, and you wished you could light a candle in here, but if anyone saw the flame flicker under the door, your time alone with the devil of your dreams would be cut short.

His hands were back on your thighs and his hips between your legs. Your hands landed on his chest, but this time hot skin met your palms. Your legs twitched in response, and Raphael smiled against your cheek before his mouth moved along your jaw, leaving a trail of hot kisses.

His hips pressed into you and wrapped your legs around his waist.

"Someone’s eager."

His breath fanned over your pulse point and a shudder shook your body.

"Yes," you admitted, earning you a growl from Raphael. He pushed the skirt of your dress up your thighs, removing a barrier of fabric from between you two. His mouth moves along your collarbone, and for the first time that evening you were thankful for the low neckline. The biting and sucking only tightened the coil of your need, and you wanted nothing more than have him inside you. Your hands ran down the hard muscles of his body, reaching the ham of his trousers, and gingerly proceeded further. You held your breath as you traced the outline of him through the fabric, your mind spinning with the half moan, half growl that escaped his throat.

"I got the message." he pressed out between his teeth, his hip twitching into your palm once.

His hands found your underwear, you lifted your hips, and he pulled them down your legs. You hoped he didn’t just drop them on the floor for someone to find in the morning. He slid between your thighs again and your hands were on his trousers, ready to push them down. Raphael didn’t stop you.

His length was heavy and hot in your hands. The world shrank to the size of the space between you two, even the sounds of the party downstairs faded, and his rugged breaths were the only things you could hear. You could not think. The only thing you wanted was him inside of you, and it was within your power to make that a reality. You guided the tip to your entrance, and Raphael inhaled sharply.

His hand cupped your cheek, and he breathed: "Who knew you were so needy, pet?"

A flash of fear ran through you. What if he left you right now?

"I’m going to give you everything you want."

He pushed in with a single hard thrust, and you gasped at the sudden stretch. His hands grabbed your breasts and his hips set a slow, harsh rhythm. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you pressed your lips shut, trying not to make too much noise. Raphael’s hands kneaded your breasts just right, and you whimpered after a well-placed thrust, then his hands were gone. The thrusts cease coming, and he moves something behind you.

"What -?"

He pushed your back to the desk, and his strong hands loosened your legs from around his waist. His mouth left a trail of hot kisses from your knees to your ankles before holding, resting your legs against his body. The position made his length inside you feel even more of a tight fit, and he resumed his thrusts. Your nails scratched against the wood of the table, unable to do anything else while his hips collided with yours again and again. The pleasure in your body was like a kindling ready to ignite.

"Please." you breathed, not sure for what you were pleading.

Raphael chuckled and it sparked anger in you. You pushed your upper body up from the desk and snarled: "Don’t you dare laugh."

He planted a kiss on your ankle and let your legs fall open, leaning in until you felt his hot breath on your face.

"Don’t worry, my little mouse, I won’t tell anyone, you begged me to fuck you into oblivion."

You could only guess that there was a smirk on his face, and you let out a disapproving huff. He must have felt how close you were to just shoving him off you and leaving because his fingers slipped between your bodies and his lips caught yours in a heated kiss. His fingers stroked your sensitive clit in time with the stroke of his tongue, and his thrusts changed to a delicious angle. You moaned into his mouth, so close to breaking.

"You feel downright sinful, my dear, quivering around me."

His low voice made all the hairs on your body stand on edge. Your fingers grasp for him and your nails dig into his biceps. Your whole body tensed, so close.

"So strong, so powerful," he cooed, every thrust, every stroke of his fingers could be the one.

"But right now, you are mine, little mortal."

His breath fanned over your heated skin.

"Let go for me." he said, and you shattered.

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