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ghostchems · 5 months

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bad idea right? - raphael x f!tav

your companions have made their stance on making a deal with a devil clear but as the stakes of your quest grow you aren't so certain

a/n: i am shouting out @angellayercake for screaming about this with me and for also having to deal with this:

this is my first raphael fic! i tried :) 2.1k words. smut! mdni! 18+ please. both tav and raphael make bad decisions! ao3 link.

Your muscles and bones ache as you toss and turn in bed, eyes squeezed shut while you try to force yourself to sleep but to no avail. The bed creaks as you shift, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. Sleeping used to be easier before the tadpole, before your abduction and before you somehow became the hero of this story. Your eyes flicker across your companions, watching as they sleep, their chests rising and falling between soft breaths. You knew booking a room at Elfsong would be good for them, allowing them to sleep in actual beds for the first time during your adventure rather than bedrolls on the hard ground. You care for them, more than you’ve cared about anything before, putting their needs above yours. Perhaps that’s why you’ve taken on the role as the heroic leader.

But you don’t want to be. Not anymore. You’re exhausted from trying to go about this the right way when there is a slightly easier way to go about it.

The second those big, brown eyes fell upon you in the Devil’s Den he knew you were exhausted. You still went about the delicate dance of learning what he truly wanted from you and how you refuse to make a deal with a Devil. But deep down, you wanted to and he knew. The way his lips quirked into a slimy smirk as you left, your eyes met his and you gave him a knowing look. He would be expecting you to come back.

You just didn’t think you would be back so soon but you aren’t able to get your thoughts to quiet down. You need your plans in place to quiet your mind enough to rest. Gravel crunches beneath your boots as you make your way back to Sharess’ Caress, a cautious eye scanning the streets for anything out of the ordinary. You miss the days when you could walk these streets without worry, when signs of danger were few and far between.

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end once you reach the door to Devil’s Den, a lump forming in your throat. Ever since Raphael showed his smarmy face and performed his rehearsed speech to your group, you couldn’t help but be curious about him. A devil, a cambion to be more specific, coming to you with a deal was never even a possibility that crossed your mind before, let alone having multiple run-ins with him since you escaped the wreckage. There is always something far too tempting about him and his schemes.

I’ve grown fond of you, in my own way.

You think about the way those words rolled off of his tongue more than you would like to admit. An infernal creature fond of you. You can’t help but feel special. A quick thought blips to the front of your mind, a sudden worry that it’s too late at night for you to be disturbing him. You suck in a deep breath and shrug the thought away — you are his favorite client, after all. The door to his room clicks and you push open the door, revealing Raphael still perched at his desk almost as if he hasn’t moved since you left him earlier.

“Back so soon, mouse?” The devil tilts his head, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You put on quite the performance earlier, I figured you would take a few nights to stew over it before you came crawling back.” His voice drops deliciously low as he curls his fingers underneath his chin, his eyes scanning your body. You feel warmth start to blossom in the pit of your stomach but you choose to brush the feeling off. It’s just like him to continue this little game of his when he knows full well what you are here for. You decide to play along.

“Where is the hammer, Raphael?” You ask, annoyance dripping from your town while you walk completely past him and into the bedroom. He trails after you curiously, watching as you start to go through the drawers of his bedside table. You know it’s not here but you must play along with him, wanting nothing more than to hold his attention. Raphael lingers behind you, peering over your shoulder with a bemused expression.

“It’s not here, my pet. You’ll receive it at the right time — if you accept my deal.” You feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and your cheeks flush, your grip on the drawer tightening.

“How do I know you won’t screw me over?” You don’t dare turn around, almost afraid how close he is to you. One of his hands grabs you by the waist and you can’t help but give a startled mewl. He snaps his fingers and a contract appears in front of you, the infernal script too complicated for you to understand, and a quill floats beside it.

“You wound me.” Raphael purrs into your ear, savoring the position he has you in. The chase, the seduction is always his favorite part. “My deal is fair. We get what we both want. I promise you, my dear, I would never lie to you. You are my favorite client, after all.” His lips touch your earlobe and he can practically taste your desperation. He sucks in a sharp breath to compose himself while his hand on your waist drifts lower. Raphael has you right where he wants to and he’s relishing in having the hero of the sword coast in his grasp.

“Raphael—“ His name catches in your throat as his fingers slip inside your waistband. You shudder and your eyes flutter open and shut, your cheeks bright red as he continues lower. For Raphael, this is something that happens every so often with his business — having to sweeten the deal with a little bit of devilish delight, but this felt especially sweet. Raphael is corrupting you himself, in more ways than one. His fingers stroke along your opening, your folds already slick to his pleasant surprise.

“My, my.” He teases and you can feel him smile against your ear. “Seems that you are quite ready to accept my deal, little mouse. Take the quill.” His voice is a mere whisper now, his fingers teasing at your entrance. You hesitate for just a moment, putting on a small act of reluctance before following his command, the quill feeling impossibly light in your hand. Raphael hums his approval and presses one of his long fingers inside your dripping cunt. You dip your head back and lean into him, resting on his shoulder as your eyes close and lips part, an embarrassingly soft moan falling from them.

A rush of desire courses through Raphael, so strong that it nearly distracts him from the task at hand, a blush rising to his cheeks that unfortunately you can’t see. He gives a low growl, his mouth finding your neck and sucking on the delicate flesh while he starts to curl his finger inside of you. You gasp and drop your hand to grab his forearm, fingers digging into his sleeve as he continues, your body writhing and your toes curling in your boots. Your body is impossibly hot, your mind thinking only about how sinfully good his finger feels, the dangers and worries of signing his contract far away now.

Raphael is lost in your taste. His tongue and lips drifting along your neck, planting wet kisses and sharp bites, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. He slips another fingers inside, stretching you open with deft digits as he sinks them even deeper. You’re putty in his hands and you hate that it feels so right, that this is what you wanted, what you dreamt about after first laying eyes on him. Your knees start to buckle and the tension in your abdomen is almost at its breaking point, stuttering moans and huffs clawing their way from your throat. Raphael nearly forgets himself, so utterly wrapped up in your taste, your scent, but he’s able to catch himself before he takes it too far. He pulls his fingers from you and starts to stroke lightly at your fully drenched entrance.

“Sign the contract, my little mouse, and I’ll finish you off.” His voice is gravelly and you feel the words vibrate from his chest. You don’t hesitate this time, feverishly signing the contract as his fingers lazily circle your cunt. The second you’ve signed the contract ignites into flames and disappears, quill included. Raphael wastes no time, plunging his fingers back inside and thrusting them roughly. Your hips buck and your eyes squeeze shut, riding his fingers to the edge of the precipice. His teeth find your earlobe, grazing it before giving it a rough nibble that is enough to send you toppling over the edge. Your body trembles and convulses, breathing heavy as your vision blurs and it overtakes you.

Normally, Raphael would have slipped away from his mark, leaving them alone to bask in the delicious shame of making a deal with a devil. But he can’t leave you. His nose scrunches as his eyes meet your glassy ones, your cheeks an adorable shade of red and your lips shiny and pink. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, not for you, not for anyone, but he can’t help but want you. Raphael hasn’t felt this kind of want in ages. His heart pounds in his chest, his gaze drifting to your lips. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But he can’t resist you.

Raphael’s lips crash against yours, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You groan at the taste of him, cherries and musk, and you melt into the kiss. It’s fierce and possessive, his strong hands grabbing you again by the waist and clumsily pressing you back into the nearest wall. It’s like he can’t control himself which is alarming given how carefully he has crafted his image for hundreds of years just for you to tear it all away in a moment of weakness. He can’t stop himself though. His hands are groping you all over, drifting from your ass to your breasts, with one firm hand settling on your throat.

You can’t breathe and you’re sure Raphael has forgotten that you need to breathe. You manage to tear yourself away from the breathless kiss, air filling your lungs as he bites at your jaw, those caramel eyes never leaving yours. He uses his free hand to tug at your pants, ripping them in the process but he doesn’t care. He needs you. He needs nothing but you in this moment. You’re not used to how quickly he moves, suddenly finding your legs wrapped around his waist while he holds you up against the wall with one hand, his hard cock already pressing against your slick entrance.

You brace yourself against the wall as he slams into you, his sharp nails digging into your ass and a deep moan rumbling from his chest. A scream leaves your lips, your hands pawing at his chest before curling into his doublet to hold on. He keeps the pace desperate, the mere strength of his thighs pounding into your ass enough to leave bruises. You squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and he whines, a sound you want more than anything to hear again. He captures your lips in a kiss again, his burning tongue dominating the kiss as he fills you so deeply, deeper than anyone has before. Your hands drift up his shoulders to settle around his neck, fingertips brushing the soft curls at the nape of his neck and you swear you hear him purr.

Raphael’s teeth, somehow sharper than before, sink into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Your nails dig into the back of his neck as you give a sharp yelp, your body jerking as the pain sears through you. His breath catches in his throat before giving a deep, rumbling snarl against your lips. One last thrust and he’s spilling himself deep inside you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Your eyes are wide as you take in his face, his forehead glistening with sweat and a few loose strands of his usually perfect hair, his cheeks flushed red. His gaze meets yours, seeing your reaction and immediately disappearing, only to appear a second later in front of you and tidied up except for a hint of redness in his cheeks.

Meanwhile your lips and teeth are stained with blood, your hair is a mess and your pants are still around your ankles with the devil’s cum dripping down the inside of your thighs.

“A pleasure doing business with you, mouse. We shall keep this a special secret between us.” Raphael sounds almost angry with you, nearly growling between gritted teeth but there is something else that catches you off guard. His face – his words sound threatening but his face looks unsure, perhaps even worried?

Raphael leaves in a flash of fire.

part two

#raphael x tav #raphael x reader #bg3 raphael x reader #raphael bg3 x reader #bg3 raphael x tav #raphael bg3 x tav #bg 3 fanfic #baldurs gate fanfic #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate raphael

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dark-and-kawaii · 23 days

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Okay but what are some HCs for Zevlor Raphael and Haarlep and what they like in bed 👉👈

୨♡୧ What They Enjoy ୨♡୧

18+

Zevlor - Haarlep - Raphael

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: I could go on for hours about this because honestly it depends on all their moods!! But here’s what I have today!!

⋆˙⟡♡ Choking | Love | Toys | Breeding | Bed Breaking

Zevlor

The tiefling gives off switch vibes. Zevlor is ready to fulfill your every plea whether it be him on top doming you or being a soft bottom. It's always about you, as Zevlor's main goal is to make you happy.

However, on those rare occasions when it's about him, it's usually because he's feeling a bit frustrated. But oh boy, once he takes full control over you, you better be prepared for a wild ride that will leave your bed in dire need of replacement. And don't be surprised if you find a delightful tail shaped bruise on your thigh or wrists, evidence of his firm grasp on you to keep you in place.

Prepare yourself for a shower of pet names and praise from Zevlor. You're his whole world, and he loves showering you with the sweetest of endearments. He'll worship your body like it's his personal temple, tracing his thumb over any imperfections on your flesh before expressing his deep appreciation for your beauty (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

Choking. He takes pleasure in lightly grabbing your neck, and sometimes his tail acts on its own, gently wrapping around your neck while you go down on him. And guess what? He absolutely adores it when you use his neck as leverage as you grind down onto his beautiful cock. It's a vulnerable position that he would never allow anyone else to put him in, but he trusts you with his life!

Now, if you're looking for Zevlor to be mean and degrading, you better buckle up because it'll take quite a bit of convincing. We're talking a lot of convincing here. But hey, if you push Aradin in front of Zevlor, that might just be enough to ignite that side of the tiefling and have him fulfill your desires for some deliciously mean treatment. In the moment he loves it, but afterwards he’ll always feel bad and express it on his face.

Zevlor's heart yearns for slow, passionate sex that ends with him creamping you. He wants to savor every moment with you, to truly feel and appreciate your connection before filling you with his potent seed.

When it comes to punishment, Zevlor is more of a gentle spanker. He can't bring himself to hurt you, as he cherishes your well being and wants to maintain a loving dynamic.

Biting and leaving small marks are Zevlor's guilty pleasures though! Will always leave them in places where you can easily hide them. He secretly loves the possessiveness and connection that comes with marking you as his lover.

Zevlor's fantasy involves engaging in intimate acts in semi-public places, the risk of potential discovery adding an extra layer of excitement for both of you.

And let's not forget Zevlor's deep need for a family. He absolutely has a breeding kink and dreams of building a future with you. Perhaps it's time to consider giving him what he’s been dreaming of *wink*!

Haarlep

Haarlep is a hardcore dom with an insatiable desire for control. It's just in their nature, but oh, how they adore it when that spark ignites within you and you take charge. The way you pleasure yourself to their body sends a thrilling chill up their spine, and you can always tell when Haarlep is happy by the telltale sign of their tail.

Now, i think we all know this but Haarlep is a true sadist. They derive pleasure from witnessing your tears, pushing you to the point of crying, begging, and whining. Your tears are a delectable treat for them, and they take delight in licking your messy face clean, relishing the taste of your salty tears against their tongue.

Edging and the use of degenerate names are Haarlep's specialties. They enjoy teasing you to the brink of release, denying you until you're a quivering mess beneath or atop of them. And when it comes to punishment, my dear, if you dare to challenge or provoke them, don't expect to find release that night. Haarlep knows how to discipline a brat and keep them in line.

Haarlep will degrade you until you’ve earned their praise, my dear *Winks*!

Haarlep absolutely loves fucking you in places where the risk of being caught is high. The scandal of the all powerful tav fucking a lowly incubus is so fun for Haarlep.

Toys, my dear, hold a special place in Haarlep's heart. They enjoy using anything they can find on you, pushing you to new limits. Love watching your stomach bulge with their tail.

Bondage, chains, gags, and the use of their tail are a must for them.

Choking, uh yeah! Prepare yourself because your neck will bear the marks of their hands and tail. The sight of your eyes rolling back and your mouth hanging open for precious air always sends Haarlep over the edge further, it’s intoxicating.

An ownership dynamic is something that Haarlep finds alluring. You’re theirs, right? No one else’s. Haarlep will always finds way to make this known.

Despite all this though, Haarlep does enjoy connection with you if you’re their little dove. Will pull you into their chest, entwine their fingers with yous, their tail curling around so limb of yours simply because you are theirs and they refuse to let you go.

Raphael

Switch, but he rather you do the work/ warm his cock and ride him while he’s sitting writing out a new contract/writing in his diary. He’s a man that enjoys a good performance after all.

Blood play & knife play. He has a fascination with your blood, finding it sexually arousing. Will use a gold dagger to create controlled cuts -especially on your inner thigh- before dragging his tongue against the wounds he inflicted. Period sex is totally fine with him.

Breeding kink. The devil is lonely, you’re his little mouse and he’ll make sure you remember this and make damn sure you’re stuck with him. Besides, having a little him around house hope doesn’t seem all that bad considering he can shape the little thing into a copy of him.

Possessive, scratching and bruising you gives him satisfaction. The devil is possessive by nature so marking you is a must no matter what. Enjoys scratching and bruising you till you’re begging him to stop, leaving visible reminders of his control and ownership.

Sadist as well as humiliation. Raphael fully embraces his sadistic nature, finding immense joy in inflicting pain on you. He takes delight in your suffering and is always satisfied with your reactions. Loves to humiliate you, has taken you in front of the souls that are trapped within his home, loves grabbing you by the hair forcing you to look at them while he degrades you.

Master & slave dynamic along with dumbification. Enjoys the concept of dumbification, reducing his little mouse’s intellectual capabilities and turning you into a submissive and obedient cock sleeve.

Raphael likes controlling your orgasms, loves having power over you, denying or prolonging your release. He gets off in edging you, pushing you to the brink of climax and then denying you the satisfaction of release.

Exhibitionism, enjoys watching and feeling Haarlep use you like some rag doll, won’t allow the incubus to ever finish- Raphael will take over when he’s good and ready.

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

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scuttlingcrab · 23 days

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

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

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

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

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

The Devil's Muse

(Image via keylana-dragon)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tav nodded, walking to the centre of the suite.

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

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

“So be it, if you insist.”

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

“A gift for my new treasured client.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One note though.” Tav whispered.

“Go on?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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grievedeeply · 4 months

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Not sure if you write him/have written, but could I ask for some dancing hcs for Raphael? like him dancing with his s/o

this is so cute..... i love raphael he's such an interesting character. thanks for the request and enjoy even if this is a little short!

gn!reader/tav

dancing with raphael headcanons

he is definitely into ballroom dancing

intimate and slow types of dances really get to him. he just loves being close to you, his hands on your hips

while he's this close, it makes it incredibly easy for him to tease you. he can get on your nerves really easily (affectionately in this sense)

whispers sweet nothings into your ears, promises of a long and wonderful life spent by his side

realistically we all know he wouldn't be the best partner in the world, but i think if he's actually going to feel something for someone, he's going to feel very intensely

so when he tells you these things, he really does mean it

he's a surprisingly good dancer, though

even faster paced dances are fun to him. intimate in a different way, but still special in his eyes

even if dancing isn't really your thing, he's going to reassure you that skill matters very little to him and that this is just something to do for fun!

even as a devil.... he wants things to be fun and entertaining to him sometimes

he isn't always going to be serious

he'll probably always be the one initiating these types of things and they are going to come out of nowhere

just pulls you in sooo easily and spins you around like you're someone of royalty y'know <3

raphael is a bit of an old fashioned man (it comes with age), and dancing is something he's always enjoyed

so getting to share it with you is something special even if he won't ever admit it

just dance with him every now and then and pretend to enjoy it even if you don't!

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #raphael bg3 x reader #bg3 raphael #bg3 raphael x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader

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bg3fan · 4 months

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My own pet

My first try at yandere, I hope it's decent, but I had a lot of fun writing this as a warning I'd but kidnapping and a bit of violence in here if I missed something please let me know but I think it's mild yandere in general.

"So that's how mortals treat their hero of baldrus gate?"

Raphael snickers as he walks around your little home on the outskirt.

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to the paper in front of you, hoping that he'd stop mocking you about every little thing that doesn't come from him.

"Please leave me alone, Raphael. I'm content with what I have." You say annoyed.

But Raphael wouldn't be the devil you know if he'd just leave you alone.

Even before defeading the elder brain, his constant unannounced visits and scolding, pushed you to ultimately sign his contract.

Humming, he walks up behind you, putting his warm hands on your shoulders. His thumbs draw little circles, immediately soothing your tense muscles.

"Those peasants don't know your value. They shoved you in this claustopic place, forcing you to even work for them. Have they no shame?"

His hands suddenly hardend their grip and you fear that he might actually hurt you.

"But me, little mouse," his hands relax as one of them slide up to your jaw, and the other one wraps around your throat, forcing you to look up at him, "I'd treat you like the most priced treasure I own."

It's not the first time, the devil proclaimed that he'd like to have you as his little trophy by his side while he rules over the nine hells.

You can't help but feel hypnotic by his rich voice. Promising you a life with no hard work, a life where he'd give you everything you desired, a life where you could devote yourself to all of your hobbies which he would support and the only thing you need to do is be his little pet.

But there's a little voice in the back of your head, warning you not to get close to him. He is a devil. Even if he wants to be good, he'll hurt you one way or another, and these days, he's been visiting you more often, trying to make you ultimately submit to him.

Swallowing, you put your hands on his, squeezing them as you try to form a complete sentence but to no avail.

He lets go of you, steps back and turns your chair around so abruptly that you let out a little squeak to which he chuckles, obviously enjoying it.

You frown at him, gripping your armchair to steady yourself, the papers scattered on the floor.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't need you, and I never will. I'm happy with my life now." You don't want to give him the satisfaction, so you try to stay calm.

Raphaels expression is challenging and sly, he steps between your legs to look down on you which makes him seem so much larger than he actually is, even in his human form.

Putting both of his hands on your cheeks as he bends down towards your face, "Why don´t you come in my house of hope? I can give you everything you desire. What more must I offer for you to be by my side?" he whispers against your face, his eyes stare directly into yours.

Even though you defeaded the elder brain, broke the shadow curse and fought against the three chosen ones, you don´t doubt that Raphael wouldn´t be able to kill or even torture you, especially with the crown in his hands.

Again, you find yourself unable to form a proper sentence to which you try to squirm out of his grasp, afraid that he´ll lock you up just like he did with Hope.

From all the letters you've read in his house you can assume that she was in the same position as you are right now.

Your breath goes uncontrolled and you feel panic spreading inside your body, you´re suddenly aware that you´re all alone, no friends, no weapons and no armor.

You liked your time alone as you are more of an introvert, but you failed to sense the vulnerability that comes with it.

His borad shoulders blocking the view behind him, making it impossible to think of an escape plan.

The devil in disgues seems to notice your fear, and he can´t help but fuel it by showing his true form, chuckling as you try to push him away.

"GO AWAY!" You scream and try to scratch his face. He shoves you away when you manage to cut his cheek, and you knock over with the chair and hit your head hard.

Even though you feel dizzy, you try to get away from him and crawl away from him as your body is sent into a flight or fight mode.

As you reach the window, you hear a scoff and feel Raphael yanking you away from the door towards him by your ankle.

He pulls you under him, keeping you pinned against the floor while you scream for help, regretting the choice of rejecting Wyll's offer to stay with him and help him around the gate.

A hand stiffles your noise, and fat ugly tears roll down your cheeks and his hand. You're kicking and hitting, only hurting yourself against the hard wooden floor.

Raphael is tsking at your behavious, "How pathetic you are, I guess I can understand why they shoved you here in this hole, all alone with no one on your side" his hand on your back presses you down as if he wants to break your spine in half, his tail holding your legs together.

The warmth is unbearable and it feels like his hands are burning your skin. He snaps his fingers and suddenly you find yourself in his house of hope.

Finding yourself in an unfamiliar room, and as he lets go of you, he walks up the stairs to his throne. You turn around and sit up to see him up there with his legs spread, looking down on you "Don´t worry now, I´ll take care of you, and make sure that you're safe." he flashes you a wide grin.

You clutch at your shirt, trying to think of a way to inform your friends or a way to escape, but before you could even calm down, there are three debtors coming your way.

Immediately you try to run away but two tackle you down as you try to fight them off and you even manage to knock one out but it´s been too long since you´ve been doing anything physically and it shows because the other one holds your hands behind your back as the third one puts a collar around your neck.

Raphael´s laugh booms through his throne hall as the one carries you back only to throw you in front of the devil´s booted feet.

"If I were you, I wouldn´t try to leave this house or try to take it off. It´ll only hurt, little mouse." his voice sickly sweet.

Propping yourself on your fours, not accepting the fact that he would do something like this to you. But the second you try to remove the collar an unbearbale pain shoots through your body, as if thousand of nails are being pierced through your body and you can´t help but let a high-pitched scream out.

But the adrenaline in your body allows you to try again even if the pain is unbearable. He sits there relishing in your screams and counts the seconds when you will give up.

You fall to your side, letting your tears fall on the floor. Raphael shifts his head to the side, expecting more defiance from you, a bit disappointed that you gave up this fast.

You only stop because you feel yourself slipping out of consciousness. Looking up at the tall ceiling, you try to stay awake as your body tries to cope with the pain while you taste your own blood on your tongue.

Raphael allows you a moment to ground yourself again, even though he enjoys your suffering he doesn´t want you to kill yourself so quickly.

"Come here, pet," he orders after some time as he pets his thigh, signalling you that he wants you on his lap, and to his wonder, you still have the guts to deny him by turning your head away from him.

Suddenly, he pulls on an invisible leash and yanks your lying body towards him, and before your head hits the stairs, you lift yourself up on your fours.

He stops and raises his eyebrows questioningly, and you have to bite down on your tongue and swallow your pride as you slowly make your way to his lap.

As you lower yourself on his lap, he brings out a tissue to wipe your face clean, and you let him, too exhausted to fight the pain again.

He doesn´t recognize you. You who once stood tall and fought all sorts of monsters are now shaking and sobbing in this frail body. The thought making him smile because it was all his doing.

He puts his arm around your waist as he guides your head to rest on his shoulder. "I think you´ve punished yourself enough for scratching my cheek, dont you think?" You don´t answer. Instead, you try to grasp the fact that Raphael managed to trap you like this while catching your breath.

"There, there," he pets your head, "it´s OK now, I´ve got you," he coos in this sweet voice of his, "I´ll take care of you, little mouse" his wing comes over to cover you like a blanket.

You can´t help the way his warmth makes you sleepy and sluggish in his arms, and as your eyes close, you hear him promising to keep you for eternity.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #bg3 #raphael #bg3fan #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #yandere raphael

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myers-meadow · 1 month

Note

Raphael or Haarlep reacting to waking up as the little spoon, even though the little mouse is smaller than the fiend. Like Tav's chest is pressed against the fiend's 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.

Here you go, love, and thank you for the ask!

Please let me know if you enjoyed, reblogs very welcome, I'm v enamoured with the half-devil <3 and I love getting to talk to others who love him too ^^

Summary: fluff, fade to black hinting at smut, sleepy cambion, no warnings.

Wordcount: 345

divider by saradika-graphics

How did the House of Hope come to be your escape, you wondered, absentmindedly, half asleep. You curled into the cambion in front of you, comfortable in between his wings, resting your chin on his shoulder. His heat kept you warm, but still you preferred a blanket. It felt more intimate to be underneath one together. His presence made Avernus feel like home, the sounds of the Blood War a far off noise that lulled you to sleep. It was never easy to sneak away from camp unnoticed to spend time with Raphael, but at this point, you didn't care what your companions thought. You slept best with the cambion.

The tail around that's gently curled around your leg, tightened for a moment, twitching as it stretched and relaxed. He's waking up. Softly, you pressed kisses into his skin, enjoying the ridges of his spine.

He hummed as he stretched the rest of him, tensing for a moment as the arm slung over his waist inhibited his movement.

"Comfortable, are you, my dear?" His voice was still thick with sleep. You tightened your arm around him, preventing him from turning around. It was nice to be the big spoon. Would he feel safe, as you feel when he holds you?

"You're very warm," you say softly, "I'm sorry if I woke you. We can still sleep a bit more..."

He lifted your arm to turn around, you let him this time. Immediately, he leaned in, noses bumping, and kissed you deeply. The sharpness of his teeth still delighted you, bringing up images from the night before. The bitemark in your thigh throbbed at the memory. His groan as you lick into his mouth was sinfully deep. With a big hand, he held your face still, to kiss deeper, so deep it felt like you barely got to breathe. He's truly a dream, you thought, moaning as you traced the ridges on his back.

He dislodged from you, holding you close, trapped within his arms, to say: "Sleep? Hm. Maybe there's something else we could be doing instead..."

#ask #anon #raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael the cambion x tav #raphael bg3 x reader #i have quite a few really fun ideas for haarlep and raphael; for longer fics!! but i seemingly;; have no mental space rn :((#so forgive me for doing lil drabbles like this for the time being!#a lot of the prompts you sent can potentially overlap with larger ideas i have so i will build those ideas into those fics as well #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii

110 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 2 months

Text

notes: i did this instead of anything in my inbox. sorry but it overtook me and became much longer than I thought. also I wrote raphael as the little sub he is teehee.

relationships: raphael x reader; enver gortash & reader (platonic, parent & child); eventual enver gortash x tav

words: 4k

rating: E

summary: a warlock of Raphael's, you visit the House of Hope one day and find a child. he cannot remain there.

Your life, really, is fine. Maybe a bit empty. But fine.

You’ve had Raphael as your Warlock patron for a while now. It’s fine too, he’s fine, there are definitely worse devils to be indebted to - the fact he’s attractive isn’t so bad either. You started fucking a few years ago and he’s basically wrapped around your little finger at this point. He’s still annoying as all hells but he bottoms well enough and the two of you enjoy being on each other’s good side, so it works out. Mostly what he has you do is track down and kill people who’ve pissed him off - and a lot of people have pissed him off, he’s very piss off-able to be fair, so there’s always plenty of jobs and you come to the House of Hope often, in between the mercenary work you do to survive.

This time you just finished hunting down someone who tried to weasel out of their contract. Raphael had you bring him the man’s head as proof of your work, and then you made him give you head after. Par for the course nowadays.

You peel yourself out of Raphael’s embrace as he bathes in the afterglow of getting spoiled in bed by you. You throw on your pants, and go to grab a bite to eat. Your patron always has a feast ready. It’s something to keep his servants distracted with, the constant cooking and replacing of dishes, and it’s nice to never be hungry when you’re here. You saunter into the banquet room and go to pick up a fistful of grapes…

… pausing when you see something utterly fucking shocking.

A little boy. Making himself as small as possible, dark messy hair and darker sunken eyes, all curled up by the fire. He looks at you with terror and you yelp in surprise, grabbing a spare tablecloth to quickly cover yourself with.

“What the fuck?!” you manage, looking around for answers to the unasked question. Nobody is here to give you any. Fucking lost souls, never here when you need them. You turn back to the boy who looks utterly terrified. “Are you meant to be here?”

He visibly swallows, nervous, and nods. Okay, right, great. Kid in the middle of hell. Of course. You're about to find Raphael and give him a grilling, when you hear a little stomach rumble.

You freeze, raise an eyebrow. Almost impossibly he shrinks further into himself.

“Have you eaten, kiddo?”

He shakes his head, unable to meet your eyes. Oh, well, that won’t do.

You grab a plate and begin to load it up with food for him. He looks hopeful though he tries not to show it too much, as if you’ll punish him for the very idea of it. Gods it must have been torture for the child, sitting in front of a banquet with no invitation to gorge.

When the plate is so full that it threatens to spill over, you squat down and put it in front of him. The boy stares at it for a long moment before looking up at you.

“Go on. Dig in.”

It’s all the permission he needs. He tears into the food you’ve presented as if he’s never eaten before. As if it is ambrosia. You watch him wolf down chicken thighs so fast that he threatens to choke on them, and you feel your heart ache at the wretched sight.

“This really isn’t a place for kids. What’s your name, lad?” you ask, absent-mindedly swiping some greasy hair out of his eyes. You wonder when was the last time he washed, poor kid. He flinches at your touch a little but doesn’t stop eating, somewhat aware you’re probably the first person he’s met here who doesn’t mean him harm.

“Enver,” he says through mouthfuls of bread. You tell him your name in return, though you aren’t sure if he really listens.

“I didn’t say he could eat.”

Raphael’s voice cuts through the moment, severe, and the boy freezes mid-bite. Terror floods him. He begins to visibly shake.

Oh, no. No. You won’t be having that.

You speak aloud, voice firm.

“Well, I said he could. Ignore him, kiddo.”

You stand and put yourself between your patron and the child. This little boy has no idea who you are, but he can sense that you have some sort of power over the demon who’s walked into the room. Timidly he continues his meal. When you’re satisfied you turn to your devil, thunderous.

“Raphael? A word.”

Your tone leaves no wiggle room. He harrumphs and follows you far out of the boy’s earshot, where you unleash your fury.

“Why is there a fucking child here, Raphael?!” He rolls his eyes.

“Oh, his parents sold him to me. Well, to one of my other warlocks, actually, so through the upline he’s mine.”

He speaks as if reading from the paper, not discussing a child’s life. Your blood boils. You want to slap him, but he’d just enjoy it.

“This is no place for… well, fucking anyone, let alone a literal kid. What were you thinking?!”

He shrugs. For a devil meant to be full of cunning, Raphael rarely actually thinks through his short-term impulses into long-term plans.

“Torture him, I suppose.”

“Don’t you fucking think about it,” you say, hand instinctively summoning your blade. Raphael narrows his eyes.

“Be careful when you reach for your sword, warlock, lest you forget the person who gifted it to you.”

Fuck. Shit. What an arseache. Okay, you can’t go about this by violence, he’s right. You need to be cunning. You let yourself soften and approach him, laying your hands on his chest. He raises an eyebrow but allows you to caress him.

“Raphael, come on. You really want a child hanging around here? He’s going to ruin all our fun. I was going to have you on the banquet table later. You don’t want me to ride you while feeding you slices of apple? You enjoyed it last time…”

Your devil huffs but softens under your touch. Gods he really is easy to manipulate when you know which buttons to press.

“You’re really up in arms about him, aren’t you? Look, they gave him away for a reason. He’s not some sweet innocent. He’s a little bastard, as far as I’ve been told.”

“Please don’t do anything too harsh to him? For me? For your favourite warlock?” you ask, pouting, sliding down Raphael’s body to your knees, ready to nuzzle into his cock in exchange for his agreement.

He sags, weak for you. Got him.

“Ugh. Fine, you win, kitten. Spoilsport,” he mutters, and you slip him out of his underwear.

The next time you see Enver, it’s been a couple of weeks. You’ve just finished up a hunt and are reporting in - but he’s the first thing you check on. You find him sweeping one of the hallways, eyeing a wailing lost soul warily.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?”

He jumps a little, however he looks genuinely pleased to see you. Not enough for him to smile but at least some of the tension leaves him.

“I’m alright,” he says quietly. He still looks sort of greasy. You’ll have to tell Raphael to let him bathe.

“The boss been treating you okay?”

Enver nods.

“Doesn’t really talk to me. Just tells me to do chores.”

Well that’s better than torture, you think. You reach into your pocket, root around for a bit, and hand something to him. His eyes go wide and then narrow in suspicion, and you have to reassure him that it’s not some sort of trick.

“Do you know what that is?”

“A sending stone,” he says, confidently, weighing the blue rock in his hand. You grin.

“Look at you! Clever kid. Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. So I take it you know how they work?”

“Each holder can send a message of twenty-five words a day, and the other can reply with twenty-five. Total of fifty each.”

“Precisely! I’m giving this to you for if there’s an emergency, okay? If you’re in trouble, I want you to give me a message and I’ll get here as quickly as I can.”

He eyes the stone. It’s as if he can’t quite bring himself to believe that someone genuinely cares about his wellbeing.

“Why?” he asks, after a while.

“Because you shouldn’t be down here, and Raphael can be an arsehole. But don’t worry, I can sort him out,” you say with a grin, and for the first time, Enver chuckles. You hear the sound of Raphael calling your name from down the corridor and you roll your eyes.

“Speak of the devil. Take care, Enver, alright? And remember, let me know if there’s a problem.”

He nods, tucking the stone into his pocket before you head off to tie your patron up.

You don’t hear from Enver for a week or so, but one day, when you’re on the road, you get a message coming through.

“Hello. It’s Enver. Are you having a good day?”

You look confused and reply, “Yeah, kiddo, I’m fine. Is there something the matter? Nobody’s hurting you, are they?”

Then, because it is the nature of the stone, you add: “If they are then you just say, I’ll come and set them straight.”

There’s a beat. You can imagine Enver considering his response.

“I’m fine. I just wanted to say hello.”

That’s as much communication as the day will allow but it hits you hard. Oh. He’s lonely.

And from that day on, you have a sort of penpal.

Enver messages you everyday without fail, always excited to see how you’ve been doing. He has very little to report, which you’re thankful for, because you live in fear that he will need to use the stone for its intended purpose. Occasionally he lets you know that Raphael has said something cruel or Haarlep is teasing him, and then it’s just a matter of heading to the hells and setting them straight. Haarlep is like a cat, difficult to make to do anything, but to be honest he’s your friend and will usually acquiesce after some teasing. Raphael is always a bit more difficult to persuade. He still sees the boy as his property, his thing to treat as he’d like, so you have to pull out all of your best tricks in order to convince him.

You always end up coming out on top, though. Funny that.

Your visits to the House of Hope get more regular. Enver greets you with smiles and then with laughs and then with hugs, and you find you’re growing fond of the kid. Every now and then you see a bit of the little bastard Raphael warned you of - you’ll catch him tormenting one of the damned souls down here, or attempting to trap and harass some sort of insect who accidentally crawled through one of the portals. But a soft but firm hand to turn him in the right direction is enough. He’s a boy with a bright future… if he’s nurtured.

And this place has no time for that.

You make the pitch to Raphael one night at the end of a long weekend in hell. You’ve been doing everything he’s asked of you, indulging his every whim, being ever so sweet and obedient for your master - and fucking him within an inch of his life. You relax in his bed, cuddled up to his chest, walking your fingers along the expanse of his pectorals.

“Raphael…” you say, dreamily, and he hums.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to push your luck?” he chuckles. You rearrange yourself to look up at him, eyes wide and wanting.

“Me? Push my luck? Never…” you run your tongue over his nipple and he groans.

“Spit it out then, kitten.”

“It’s the boy, Raphael. Can I have him? Please?”

He huffs.

“Why?”

“Why not? What does he do around here apart from take up space and eat your food? Surely you don’t really want him hanging around, do you? I’d like to be able to ride you and scream your name without the fear we’ll be overheard.”

Raphael considers this for a long time, and for a moment, you think he won’t take the bait.

“You’ll extend your pact with me. I want your soul. Forever,” he decides.

Ah. That’s quite the price. You consider it for a moment.

“...You never get to interfere with Enver’s life again,” you reply, because this is how you deal with devils. Your bargain to gain their respect. He laughs.

“Fine. The boy is off the hook.”

“Done. And I get to take him out of here and do what I want with him, no questions asked. He’s free. And I’ll do that thing you like, right now.”

His eyes sparkle.

“Deal.”

The next morning, body aching, you read through your new contract. You make some amendments in blood but sign it. The rest of your existence signed over to this damned devil. Raphael kisses you on the lips, long and languid - and when you walk out of the House of Hope it’s with Enver’s hand in yours.

“Where are we going?” he asks, quietly. He’s scared. You squeeze his fingers in reassurance.

“Well, I’m on the road a lot. We’ll be travelling. Is that okay with you, kiddo?”

He nods, excited, and you can’t help but notice how much he’s grown since you first met. He’s more than a head taller - gods, how long has he been down here? It’s not worth thinking about. He’s still pretty skinny, but you’ll fix that. Now you’re in charge of feeding him, you'll make sure he gets a good meal every night. Make sure he walks with his back straight and chin up.

Make sure he never has to feel small again.

It isn’t a perfect life, but it’s a damn sight better than what he had to put up with in the Hells. He smiles now, every day. Isn’t scared of people. Slowly grows confidence in himself because he knows that you’re in his corner, come hell or high water (literally). One day you see him drawing in a little notebook you got him, some sort of diagram far more complicated than you can understand - he explains the intricacies of the machine, so you get him some spare parts to start tinkering with. Gods the kid is a natural. So intelligent. Far smarter than you, and you’re worried you’re letting him down because you can’t keep up - but every time he shows you a new invention he seems so pleased when you compliment him.

“Look at you, kiddo! You’re amazing! I bet there’s nothing that you can’t do.”

And he looks like for the first time in his life that he believes what you’re saying.

Life isn’t easy, but it is worth living. You’re on the road more often than not. You don’t have a home to call your own, but you make sure your mercenary work is well-paid enough that you can put the two of you up in inns overnight, keep you both fed and entertained. Enver seems happy and that’s what matters.

You go back to the House of Hope as little as you can, now, reporting in when you do a job and fucking Raphael into submission. He asks you about the boy every once in a while and you palm him off with a laugh, acting as if you barely care about Enver rather than the truth: you’ve been actively putting money away towards a fund for his future.

You come back from one of your meetings late one night. You’re exhausted from what your patron has put you through and are looking forward to sleep. The portal opens into the inn you’ve booked for the night. You expect Enver to be dead to the world, but instead he’s wide awake, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing up so late? Is everything okay?” you ask, surprised. Enver fidgets with his fingers.

“Does Raphael hurt you?” he blurts out. You’re shocked.

“What?”

“Do you want to be in a contract with him? Because if you don’t, I promise I’ll find a way to free you, like you freed me! I’ll get strong, really strong, and I’ll kill him for you.” His hands are balled into fists, jaw gritted. His eyes are dark in a way that’s troubling and he drops his gaze to his lap.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where’s all this coming from? Kiddo, nothing is wrong. Everything between me and Raphael is fine. I’m not unhappy or being forced into anything, I promise. What’s the matter, Enver, eh?”

When he looks up at you, there are tears pooling. He launches himself into your arms, holding you so tightly it’s as if you’re his anchor to this plane.

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you. I love you…” and then there it is. He calls you ‘mum’, or ‘dad’, or some other word that settles what you already knew: he’s come to think of you as his parent now. He freezes when he hears himself say it and you think back to when he was that scared little boy, longing for a bit of food by the fireplace.

You hold him back.

“I love you too, son,” you tell him, and the two of you stay like that for a long while.

He asks if his last name can become yours. You introduce him as your child. You are a family.

You’re right. He’s far smarter than you are, and you can’t keep up with him. It becomes more and more obvious as he gets older. He goes from brilliant teenager to incredible young man, and you’re glad that you have the funds to be able to send him to a good college and nurture his spark. You’re aware that you’re beginning to slow down a bit now. Your joints aren’t quite what they used to be, and though Raphael still covets you, he’s not oblivious to the fact that you’re getting on. His contracts for you become less vigorous. He likes to have you in his bed more than on the field. You don’t mind it, being pampered by your patron. It isn’t a bad life.

Enver doesn’t need to become Gortash. And what use has Bane for this man, this good man, this man who has made something of himself despite all of the odds stacked against him? None whatsoever. He never becomes the chosen of Tyranny. He is safe from the person he might have been.

The day he graduates at the top of his class is the proudest day of your life. You clap and cheer for him until you are hoarse, and he pretends to be embarrassed as you give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek in front of all of his friends, every inch the glowing parent.

He becomes chancellor because of his own merits, not due to any underhanded trickery. He is a master when it comes to machines. He never invents the Steel Watch because he does not have the warped mind to create them. Instead he focuses on technology to help the city of Baldur’s Gate: cleaning machines, security automatons, things which help with the admin of running to place so those in government can focus on supporting Baldurites.

He buys you a house in the upper city. You settle down there as you grow older, make friends, get plenty of visits from your son. Everyone knows how loved you are. He eventually hires a young woman named Karlach as a bodyguard who you grow fond of: she makes up in brawn what he lacks, and she always puts a smile on your face when you have the two of them around for tea.

The Absolute comes. Raphael is poking around because of course he is. He’s got some new toys by now but you’re still one of his old favourites, and a couple of his most loved tricks with your tongue mostly keep him out of the way. Plus he promised not to interfere in Enver’s life, and he’s bound by that, the tricky bastard.

Some other person is Bane’s chosen, but it is not your Enver. Instead he fights for the side of good against the Dead Three and the mindflayer invasion, an ally to this Tav, the hero of Baldur’s Gate. Through their trials the two of them end up falling in love and it’s all you could ever want for your son. When the city fights against the Elder Brain you pick up your pact weapon for the last time despite his pleas not to: you’re a Warlock, damn it, and you’re going to defend your home until your last breath.

You don’t die, which is a nice bonus.

Enver and Tav help rebuild the city once the invasion has been stopped. Not too long in the future you have grandchildren, and they are the light of your life, always silly and giggling and joyous to hear the remarkable stories from your mercenary years.

You help out where you can but your age is weighing on you. One day, you take a tumble, and suddenly you’re bedbound; Enver and your family are visiting you every day as you get weaker, and you know that your final days can’t be far off.

He sits at your bedside, your hand clamped in his. Ah, a workman’s hand. The hand of a man who is constantly inventing and working and making himself useful. The hand of a good and decent man.

“The little ones go back to school tomorrow,” he says, fondly, “Tav is relieved. They’ve been rushed off their feet during the holidays– so many years since that Absolute business, yet the legislation is still going. They need a break, really.”

“It’s exhausting being a parent, isn’t it?” you ask with a grin, before being interrupted by a rattling cough which you can’t seem to shake. Enver lifts a glass of water to your lips and you drink, thankful. “Eurgh. Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I’ll call the doctor again in the morning, see if she can get you any more of that tincture. Or maybe Halsin might have some ideas…”

“Oh, Enver, don’t go through all that fuss for me. Just sit here with me, kiddo.”

When you call him that, he knows he has no choice. You are still his parent, after all. He shifts to make himself more comfortable in his bedside chair, never letting go of your hand.

“I want you to know,” you say, voice soft, “everything has been worth it, Enver. My whole life was made better because you were my son. You’re the thing that I’m most proud of.”

His eyes go wide and glass over with tears, jaw grits.

“I… don’t say things like that, please,” he says, because he’s scared of what will come after.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, kiddo. I’m right here.”

He rests his head on the side of the bed, and you can see his shoulder heave as he cries. You bury your hand in his hair, smiling when it’s still a little greasy, and then you close your eyes.

When you open them again you’re in the House of Hope.

Your body feels lighter than it has in decades. You look down to see the wrinkles and liver spots in your hands are gone. You’re wearing what can generously be called an outfit, though it’s more straps of leather criss-crossed over your body.

“Well, did you have fun? Was your deal worth it in the end?” Raphael asks. He’s leaning against the doorframe, swirling wine around in a glass in his hand, another held out to you. You take it and frown.

“Were you… were you just standing here, waiting for me to bloody die?” you ask. He harrumphs.

“You didn’t answer my question, kitten.”

You take the wine, quaff it, then pull him into a kiss. He moans into your mouth in surprise and rapture.

“Yes,” you answer, honestly, because it was worth it. You’d never have made a different choice, “now, are we going to bed, or are you just going to stand here being smug for the rest of eternity?”

Raphael grins and pulls you to the bedroom.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

#raphael x reader #enver gortash x tav #gortash x tav #gortash & reader #my writing #raphael bg3 #enver gortash #bg3 fic #fic #raphael bg3 x reader

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moremousewrites · 3 months

Text

Little Mouse

Pairing: Raphael (BG3) / Tav(Drow)

Word count: 1713

Summary: Raphael made you a very decent offer. He would give you the orphic hammer, and in return you would bring him the crown of Karsus. The offer was a lot to think over. It was hard enough with your companions chiming in what you must do before you had time to think. So you returned to his suite at Sharess' Caress to review the contract without interruption. Or as well as you could with a devil on your shoulder

Warnings: alcohol consumption, intimidation, suggestive behaviour

Raphael whittled away at his work in his room at Sharess’ Caress. He made you an offer for the crown of Karsus mere hours ago but the time stretched on in the suite. He was a patient devil. Perhaps not patient, but maniacal. You would come to him and sign his contract. You were running out of options.

You came alone so as to not be influenced by your companions. Raphael registered your footsteps before you reached the door. He was not startled when you threw open the door, or when you shut it behind you.

“Come to seal the deal little mouse? I'm glad you've finally come to your senses. And without the aid of your intrepid companions? You've become very bold, pet” He said, looking up at his desk to you. You looked irritated, tired. Good. He could work with that.

You flinched slightly at his pet names. They had an effect on you that you didn't wish to address. Raphael noticed, however and grinned at your reaction.

“I've come to study the contract. After I've assessed it I will determine if it's suitable for my signature” you walked to his desk, peering over his shoulder at the scattered parchment. Some were deeds, others were receipts. Not your contract in sight.

“You read infernal?” He asked, inhaling your scent with a mighty whiff. He had not indulged in the flesh of a mortal in quite some time. His incubus, Haarlep, was satisfactory for his needs as it were. Your defiant attitude and exceptional circumstances were titillating to the devil, he could not deny.

“Perhaps you should make yourself more familiar with the culture of Menzoberranzan. Infernal participation is strongly encouraged in drow high society” you explained, prounouncing “participation” in such a way to suggest summonings were not as kosher as the average soul bargain. You leaned over him to reach for a parchment tucked beneath another. He grabbed your wrist and held you in place, meeting your eye.

“And your culture finds it pertinent to teach each and every drow the language so that you may summon devils if such a participatory need arises?” He questioned, more suspicious of your intent than your antics. He had to know your endgame.

“I am of noble blood, Raphael. I had access to certain privileges most drow will never fathom. That is how I know I am entitled to reviewing the contract” You really were earning your title as his favourite client. A lie he told anyone. But you were really someone. How delicious it would be when he owned you.

Raphael stirred at the thought. “Of course, how could I deny such a meager request” he snapped his fingers sharply next to your ear. You winced at the sound and at the urge to retort that you had not made a request at all. The word “entitled” was directly opposed to request, actually. But you thought the better of it when you picked up the contract that floated next to your head.

“Could I offer you a refreshment while you read?” He gestured to the bar cart across the room.

“Sherry if you have it, please” you said, draping yourself across his chaise lounge.

“Ah, you have a sweet tooth. I would not have pegged you as such” he filled an ornate flute and walked it to you. He took in your form, you looked exceptional. Perhaps to an exaggerated degree; you surely did not look comfortable reading in such a position. But he was not going to spoil your performance.

You took it from his hand, not bothering to look at him when your fingers touched.

“Sherry is a dessert wine.” You didn't even bother making the point, his smug face knocked off of him. You came to Raphael, you needed his help, what gave you the right?

Raphael sneered at you and your insolence. Could you even read infernal? Your intense look suggested as much but it could all be an elaborate performance. He was making you the best offer you'd gotten yet. Why couldn't you just see he was doing you a favour? A favour that heavily benefitted him more than you but that's what deals were.

“Could you please move? You're blocking my light” you interrupted his inner monologue damn you. Well as they say, honey catches more flies than vinegar.

“Little mouse, perhaps we could discuss this contract verbally?” he sweetened the tone of his voice, particularly when he called you by the pet name you still couldn't help but respond to.

You perked up with a mischievous glint in your eye “you mean negotiations?”

“No. I only meant to fill the vacuum of silence you have cast over this chamber” Scowl audible in his voice.

You gave a small huff of irritation like a child would. The devil certainly was uncomfortable in silence. And he certainly loved to fill it with the sound of his own voice.“Perhaps we should speak of the weather or even politics” you said, facetiously.

Raphael's grin widened, suggesting that you do.“Very well. I killed the archduke. Now you tell me the politics of hell”

“Ah, while there may be time for that yet, emboldened hero. I'm afraid that there is not enough tonight” he was trying very hard to determine what your angle was and more importantly, your vulnerability.

You could have taken the contract and left, you didn't have to stay in his chambers. If you were so miserable in his company you could certainly leave but you hadn't yet. You were a curious creature.

Your earlier discussion started to nag at Raphael. Your cultural fetish for devils. Raphael had known of aberrations in the underdark made from the couplings of devils and drow, he passed it off as some occult ritual exclusive to the most zealous of Lolth. He did not realize it was so commonplace. It did not appeal to him that devils were summoned and subjugated by a mortal race for physical satisfaction. Was that the true purpose of your visit? An informal summon to fulfill your inherited fetish of dominating a superior being?

Raphael felt this must be why the drow was a matriarchy. So that the ecstasy of a male dominating them could be felt opposed to their social standards even though this was how the natural order would ordain it to be.

Raphael became determined then that he had to dominate you; not just your body, but your mind as well. You had to be willing.

Lost in his ruminations, he hadn't registered that you were speaking.

“Ah, I apologize. What was it you were saying?”

“I said section 12: clause B. The verbiage is a little inaccurate. If I sign this I'm only promising you the crown, I can't promise any results” you finished off your glass of wine and pointed to the section on the page.

Raphael stared at you blankly. You could read infernal. And you saw through his first contingency.

It had stated that the recipient would receive the crown of Karsus in working condition. Raphael intentionally put that detail in there to prevent any sabotage but if the crown failed, he would at the very least get your soul.

“May I take a look at that section?” He asked, pouring you more wine.

You didn't even answer before he took the contract from your hands and sent it burning in front of your face, embers threatening your nose.

“Is the deal off?” You pouted, sitting up straight. Raphael hated to admit it but he could watch you read contracts all day, draped over his furniture. You were not hard to look at. And now with that devious look upon your face. You were going to play the role of the brat.

“Far from it, little mouse. In fact, I'd like to cut you a new deal” a chair materialized beneath him as he plopped down onto it, legs spread and posture cocky. A bit dramatic in your opinion; a chair was a few feet away.

You had a dumb, proud look on your face now. Like you caught him in a lie and you were triumphant. Raphael hoped this wasn't the stupid grin you bore after each of your heroic conquests but he was sure it was

“Tell my why you're here or I'll tell your little companions you visited me alone”

“What? I… I came to read the contract”

“No, that is why you came here. Why are you still here? Do not lie or I tell them”

Suddenly you felt very very small. His stature was intimidating even in its human form. All night you had the upper hand but he knew something you didn't. Truthfully, you didn't know why you stayed. You could have easily taken the contract to the Elfsong. Everyone would have been asleep by now.And why did you care if they knew? How did he know you cared? You kept thinking of all the wrong questions but not the answer to his.

“I think I just didn't know I could leave” you said, uncharacteristically quiet. You were squirming under his intense stare. Good, he liked that.

“Little mouse, I told you not to lie” his voice darkened and you pressed your thighs together at his timbre. “what's most disappointing is that you're not only lying to me, but to yourself”

You looked up at him, trying to defend yourself but no words came to your defense. It was a fantasy you sometimes indulged in at night, never voicing your innermost feelings. Once, Astarion remarked how he was charmed by the devil. You took it a step too far and said you liked him. Astarion of all people could not judge you, but he had his reservations.

“Perhaps I will amend our deal. Be honest now and all will be forgiven. If not, I must teach you the value of honesty” he ran his hands up your thighs, pushing your skirt up up up.

Again, no words came to your defense. You just watched as his hands splayed on your grey thighs.

“How disappointing. Well, if I'm to make a contract with you, we will have to work on your integrity. You understand, dear pet, you're only as good as your word”

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

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chloedrewitt · 5 months

Text

False God - Patron!Raphael x Warlock!Reader

summary: Raphael has been your patron for quite a while, yet you have always tried to avoid you as much as you could. He has somehow always intimidated you, while you tried to block out your growing attraction to him. It certainly doesn't help that you seem to be his favorite client. When he catches you inside the House of Hope archive, tired from having studied a tome all day, he decides to finally give in to the tension between you and help you release some of it, too.

pairing: Raphael x reader

word count: 3.8k

warnings: smut with devil form, penetration, Raphael has a lil crush on you

a/n: Part of my Swift series, where I write one shots inspired by Taylor's songs. This one is based on the song of the same name <3 and btw, I think we all are kind of ignoring the canon when it comes to Raphael fics.... right? I'm thinking of making this into an actual fanfiction (the patron x warlock thing). Lmk if this is something you'd be interested in. Please also remember I'm asexual so pls excuse any mistakes with the smut!!

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info - Taylor Swift Series

Hell is when I fight with you But we can patch it up good Make confessions and we're begging for forgiveness Got the wine for you

The smell of sulfur invaded your nostrils as you entered through the large, heavy door, held open for you by two damned souls, their expressions void of emotion. You had long grown accustomed to them, but some still managed to send shivers down your spine when you looked at them: their empty eyes, as if made of cold glass, their sunken mouths, and their bruised limbs showcasing the labor they were damned to perform for all eternity.

You did not often imagine yourself in their stead, but you could not deny that the voices that had warned you against making a deal with a cambion ghosted through your mind at times. Mostly at night, when everything was quiet, and you had nothing to drown out your thoughts.

Sometimes, you even had nightmares, though you would never admit to it. They were frightening in ways a mere broken contract could not cause; a mirror of your soul, and deepest desires. You knew better than to talk about it, even though you sometimes felt like he could smell them nonetheless.

Your steps echoed through the foyer, your gaze fixed on the path before you as you tried to tune out what was happening around you. Erratic whispers and aimless gazes followed you as you made your way to the feast hall, the smell of freshly cooked food replacing the stench of sulfur in your nose. The table was eternally set, and the food would never spoil.

Without giving it much thought, you walked past it until you reached the archive, a place where you spent most of your time whenever you visited the House of Hope, as rare as those occasions might have been. He had offered you the use of some artifacts and books, but you had always felt a sense of dread when you entered his House. And then there was of course the boudoir, which you avoided like the plague. You knew what was behind that door, unfortunately. It was hard to visit the House of Hope at least two times and not know about Haarlep. It was a thorn in your side for reasons that flustered you when you did as much as think of them.

Focusing on the book you came for, you entered the archive, offering the fiendish librarian a faint nod as you walked around him to reach one of the bookshelves. Not wanting to spend more time here than necessary, you quickly browsed through the leather-bound spines, reading the letters on them so fast that you sometimes had to go back and reread them.

“A rare sight, I must admit.”

You had not spent fifteen minutes looking when you heard Raphael’s voice behind you, turning your head to look at him. He stood before you in his human form, arms crossed, and eyes studying you quietly. Clasping your hands behind your back, you replied, “Hello, Raphael. I didn’t know you were home.”

“I do not exactly share my schedule with you, (y/n),” he replied matter-of-factly, walking over to an armchair with calculated steps before letting himself sink into it.

“Yes, I did not mean to imply otherwise,” you said, cheeks flushing a bit.

Raphael stroked his chin with two fingers, eyes settled on you as you turned back to the bookshelf and your quest to find a certain tome. An awkward pause followed, and as much as you tried to keep your attention on the books, feeling his presence behind you was overwhelming.

“I am glad to see you are finally taking up on my offer to make use of my library. Your growing powers are beneficial to me too, after all.”

You heard him shift in his seat; he had crossed his legs, but you did not turn to face him since you finally found what you were looking for. The tome was very high up, but you could clearly read the golden letters on its spine: Grimoire of Arcane Aegis.

Embarrassed, you stretched your arm to reach for the book, visibly struggling. Why did these books have to be so heavy and so high up?

Steps sounded behind you, and you froze as you suddenly felt him standing right next to you, arms crossed. You swallowed, turning your head to look up at him. He smelled like an even more intense mixture of sulfur and leather and the moment you met his eyes, you were reminded why you usually avoided eye contact with him. It was very hard to look away.

Keeping his eyes locked with yours, he reached out for the tome and let it slip into his hand effortlessly before holding it out for you to take.

Your gaze dropped to the book momentarily before resettling on his eyes. Muttering a ‘thank you,’ you took it, quickly raising your other hand to help support its weight. You had expected it to be heavy, but certainly not that heavy.

“You're quite welcome,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Enchantment is a useful skill. Though it is one I did not expect you to want to learn.”

Pressing the book to your chest, you shrugged your shoulders, letting your eyes wander around the archive aimlessly. “I figured taking control over an enemy’s body would be beneficial in one way or another.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, the smile still playing on his lips. “That does not only apply to enemies.”

You were just about to open the tome when you froze, the color in your cheeks deepening as you swallowed. Clearing your throat, you turned on your heel and walked over toward a desk far to your right, where you laid the open book down.

Briefly, you looked at Raphael over your shoulder while your hand rested on the open page. “Well, thank you for allowing me to make use of your archive.”

“I am quite surprised you have never made use of it before,” he remarked, pacing behind you as he watched you read the letters written in elegant handwriting on the worn-out pages. There were stains here and there and sigils you did not understand yet. But you would learn.

Raphael tilted his head to the side, coming to a halt right behind you. He gazed over your shoulder down at the paper, his breath hot in the nape of your neck.

“Are you avoiding me, (y/n)? Because I would expect a little more gratitude for lending you my powers and knowledge.”

You gulped, pressing your lips together as you placed your hands on the desk, using it to support your weight a little. Your knees suddenly felt very weak.

“I remember when I met you first,” he said, his voice lower than before. “You were an interesting case. Powerless in a world filled with magic and creatures stronger than you could ever fathom. Yet your determination to save your beloved persisted. A shame he took it for granted.”

Tears stung your eyes as you stared at the pages before you, not even reading them. Partially because of how your mind wandered, and partially because of your blurred vision. You really did not need to be reminded of how the person you had sold your soul for abandoned you the moment his life was safe again.

“Revenge is a powerful motivator to harness new abilities.”

You sucked in a breath as you turned to face your patron, taken aback for a moment by how close he was, trapping you between himself and the desk behind you. Only now did you notice how the other souls and fiends who had been here when you entered must have left now, perhaps intimidated by their master’s presence.

“I feel nothing for him anymore,” you finally stated emotionlessly, your expression neutral as your eyes jumped between his.

“That is not the truth, is it?” His question was sarcastic, if anything. “You feel hatred for him. And regret. I can see the burning anger behind your eyes.” He suddenly inched closer, grabbing the edge of the desk behind you with his hands, fully preventing your escape now.

“And what would you have me do about it?” you whispered, tilting your head up so you could keep looking at him, while you leaned away from him, your hands threatening to touch since they still rested on it for support.

The corner of Raphael’s mouth twitched as he cocked his head, his eyes twinkling. Your nervousness seemed to be very entertaining to him, and you cursed yourself for the way your heart began to race as his gaze dropped to your lips for just a second.

He was toying with you; you were sure of it. It was the reason you avoided visiting his House of Hope anyway, and why you dreaded when he decided to visit you. However, it was in your contract. Raphael was allowed to pay you a visit whenever he pleased to ask for a favor if he needed one, in exchange for your magical abilities.

“Perhaps, for a start,” he said, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice on your skin, “make more use of my library. I do not have to offer it to you, but I am choosing to. And I would certainly appreciate it if you would not take it for granted.”

You swallowed, shifting slightly, which caused your hand to brush against his. Sucking in a breath, you quickly pulled it away.

“Think about it, (y/n),” he said, straightening his back again, releasing you from the entrapment, which allowed you to finally relax your muscles. You looked at him for a moment more before he disappeared behind a whirlwind of flaming hot air.

—

You had spent the past days studying tomes in the House of Hope’s archive, diving deep into the knowledge they offered. It was not because of him or his invitation, but you knew he wouldn't believe it, so there was no use in arguing.

He did not check on you once, much to your relief, but still, you could not ignore the hint of disappointment hiding deep inside you. If someone had asked you whether you even just liked your patron, you would have said no. He owned you, or at least your soul for that matter. The difference was almost nonexistent.

You had put your hair up in a high ponytail, bound by a black piece of leather. Still, after hours of studying and burying your hands in your hair when you felt stuck, a few strands had loosened and were now framing your face in a quite inelegant manner.

With sleep-drunken eyes, you traced the edge of the tome in front of you with a finger. You had pulled a chair in front of the desk, but after having sat on it for hours, your back ached.

Rubbing your neck, you lifted one side of the open book and let it fall shut with a loud thud, louder than you had anticipated. It startled you, momentarily waking you from a state of half-sleep.

The House was quiet. Although time passed differently here, there were still moments when activity inside of it decreased, and it felt like a proper day-night cycle, at least for Hell standards.

“Still here?” You turned your head, startled, to find Raphael standing there.

“It would be nice if you stopped sneaking up on me,” you said, stretching your aching muscles a bit. You would have stood from your chair, but you were too tired for formalities. Raphael had never minded much, to your surprise. You believed it was because he knew that you were afraid and wary of him anyway. He did not need proof of it. Though despite your relaxed stance, you were very much on your guard.

“I was told you have been here for hours,” he said, ignoring your remark purposefully. “A tired mind cannot comprehend newly learned information that well. You should rest.”

You scoffed. If you did not know better, you would have thought he was genuinely worried about you, but you were sure that the real reason for this was purely a logical one. Namely, the explanation he had just given you.

With your hand on your shoulder, you looked up at him, smiling faintly. You hoped he wouldn’t see that it was not a sincere smile, but he must have been used to your feigned politeness by now. After all, it was something you had been taught from childhood.

“Sorry,” you replied, rubbing your neck. “I’ll leave. I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.” The words came out automatically, as if memorized and said a thousand times before. Raphael raised a hand, gesturing for you to remain seated.

“No need to apologise, (y/n).” He approached you, eyes locked with yours until he came to a halt right in front of you. The flame dancing inside the fireplace to your left crackled; the only sound filling the archive now. The fire cast shadows on his face, while he raised his hand and let it linger between you in the air, as if he was not sure whether to proceed.

You looked up at him, lips slightly parted as you held onto the backrest of your chair. Your breath was shallow, the intensity of his gaze resting heavily upon you.

“You don’t need to leave, either,” he added as he finally closed the distance and trapped your chin between his index finger and thumb, turning your head up so you had to look at him, whether you wanted to or not. You swallowed and blinked at him, your cheeks hot.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you felt him trace the edge of your jawline until he reached your cheek, cupping it firmly, yet not strong enough for it to hurt.

The implication in his voice made it hard for you to breathe, partially due to anticipation, and partially because you were scared of what would happen if you refused. He had never been rude to you, or threatened you in any truly concerning way. After all, your loyalty and soul were worth something to him. And still, you had never put your guard down before.

“What are you saying?” You asked breathlessly, gripping the backrest of your chair so tightly that your knuckles turned white. You did not want to risk a misunderstanding.

“You could stay in my bed tonight. I've seen the look in your eye. I've heard the way your heart beats when I'm near.” His hand slid down from your cheek, briefly touching your bottom lip with his thumb, before he reached your chest. He pressed it against you, right between your breasts where your heartbeat could be felt. It quickened again, which made him smirk faintly.

“There.”

You swallowed, wetting your dry throat as you tried to keep your mind clear, but it was hard when his presence was so mesmerizing.

Jaw clenched, you narrowed your eyes slightly and said, “I thought your bed was occupied by Haarlep.”

It was not a question, but an observation.

You did not know where the courage had come from, most likely the lack of sleep, but you could see that something in his gaze shifted at the mention of the demon’s name.

Raphael crouched down beside you, pulling his hand away only to offer you his open palm. Now you were looking down at him, resisting the temptation to bury your hand in his brown hair.

“I dream of you, (y/n),” he whispered, his fingers curling as he looked up at you. “I had not thought it possible for a mortal to occupy so much space in my mind, following me even to my dreams. Haunting me with words that linger in the air unspoken.”

“Are you mocking me?” Your voice was an octave higher than usual, your hand shaking slightly as he traced circles over the back of it. Then, he shook his head faintly, hand tightening around yours.

“I am confessing.”

You inhaled sharply, seeing no sign of deception in his eyes, but beings like him excelled at it, so you could not trust even the sincerity in his eyes.

This was a dangerous game you were playing, and you knew it. How could this ever work with a contract quite literally binding your soul to him? But you were in no state to make judgments, let alone good ones.

You raised your hand toward him, brushing a strand of hair from his temple. He reacted, closing his eyes at your touch as if he had in fact been anticipating it for a long time. You left your hand there, gently touching his cheek when he opened his eyes again to meet yours.

Lips slightly parted, and with newfound confidence, you let yourself slide from the chair down into his lap, straddling him on the cold stone floor. You saw him suck in a breath, eyes flickering between yours.

Behind him, the flame was dancing to a rhythm not yet set, illuminating your face for him to see each scar that marked it; one on your forehead, two on your cheeks, and a small one on your chin. Without the light, most of them would not have even been visible.

Raphael reached out, letting his index finger run over the scar that stretched from your eyebrow to your cheekbone. You had to close your eyes when he reached your lid and opened it again only when he stopped at your cheek.

“Where did you get it from?” He asked, sitting up a little straighter so that your breath mixed between you. You smelled of forest and morning dew, almost entirely muted by his scent of smoke and leather.

“Bandits,” you replied, your noses touching as you rested your hands on his shoulders. “I was lucky to get away with only this scar.” He hummed in response, his hand finding its way into your hair.

“No need to ever fear mere bandits again,” he said and your lips briefly touched as he spoke. Raphael’s gaze dropped to your mouth, and before you could even say anything in return, he pressed his lips to yours.

You pulled yourself closer towards him, feeling the growing pressure against you from underneath. You smirked, liking the effect you had on him. It was then that you realized how Raphael, a powerful being in his own right and heir to Mephistopheles himself, was mere butter in your hands. Perhaps you had been wrong to be so afraid of him the whole time.

You pushed him to the ground so that he was lying on his back with you sitting on his waist, hands pressed against his chest. The fear, if you could even call it that, which you had previously felt was gone now. Fingers brushing against his cheek you said, “You can turn, Raphael. You don’t need to hide.”

He looked up at you, his expression unreadable. You already thought you had said something wrong and felt panic build up in your chest when you saw his horns and wings materialize underneath you. His skin was flaming hot in color now, his eyes burning like two orbs of fire against an endless void.

You brushed across one of his horns, feeling the hard material on your fingers as his wings gently enveloped you, the leathery material tingling your shoulders where they were exposed.

Then, you grabbed his horn and pressed yourself against his body, uniting your lips in a hungry kiss. You, too, had dreamed of him on multiple occasions, a mixture of nightmares and wet dreams, and though you were still wary of the cambion underneath you, you could not help losing yourself in the process.

Trousers were unbuckled, and he dug his clawed fingers into your side when you lifted your hips a bit to throw your clothes away, your eyes always staying locked with his.

“You are eager, aren’t you?” He said, his hands playing with the hem of your undergarments while he smiled, amusement marking his features and voice. “Days ago you could barely look at me.”

Rocking your hips back and forth you stared down at him, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. “Because it was hard not to imagine this each time I did,” you whispered, leaning forward so you could wrap your hand around the erection.

He gasped, exposing his sharp canines as you guided him to the wetness between your legs. With your hand wrapped around his horn, he wrapped his wings tighter around you, holding you in place, as he rolled over so that he was now on top, majestic wings spread out before you. They were large and reminded you of those of a bat.

You had still wrapped your hands around his horns, now both of them, which forced him to keep his head close to yours. He picked up where you left off, matching the rhythm you had set before as his hand came to cup one of your breasts. His sharp nails dug into the sensitive skin around your nipple, causing you to gasp for air, before it settled between your legs, gently playing with the sensitive piece of flesh there.

With each thrust that he did, you felt a stronger need to hold onto him. You let go of one of his horns to wrap your arm around his shoulders, only opening your eyes when you felt his on you. It felt as if his flaming irises could see deep inside the soul you had sold to him, your eyes held captive by them.

You did not know whether this was too personal, whether you were crossing a line, but you leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his, feeling the thin layer of sweat that had formed on his skin, around his horns, and the hard bone that grew from his head like a crown.

When you finally felt like you were close to your climax, you kissed him again, silencing a loud moan that would have otherwise been heard even outside the archive, you were sure.

The thrusting stopped and you held each other for a moment, catching your breaths. He had propped himself up, his hand resting on the ground next to your head as he sat up straight, exiting you in the process. Sweat glistened on his red torso, highlighted by the fire still burning behind you and you smiled softly as he offered you a hand.

You took it, momentarily startled when he pulled you towards him with force, using his wings once again to hold you in place.

“That was a good start,” he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. “But perhaps we should take this to the boudoir now?”

A hint of hesitation crossed your face and you averted your gaze, but he placed a hand under your chin and forced you to look at him again. “Do not worry, my dear. Haarlep is of no use to me anymore.”

We might just get away with it The altar is my hips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship this love

#raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #raphael baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 x reader #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x reader lemon

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cambion-companion · 8 months

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“An angel without her wings.” Raphael purred; his eyes fixed on your form. The scars on your back twinged with the ghost of agony passed.

Your eyes flared with celestial fire, weak as it was the blue flames faded fast. You felt empty…abandoned by your grandmother.

“I’m almost moved to pity.” The devil continued, his own wings flexing behind him. “A fledgling fallen from her nest.” He took your chin firmly in hand, his sharp claws biting into your skin. “Don’t try that again.”

#WIP #but also wap amiright (gunshots)#jusssst a lil something I'm working on #aasimar reader #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael bg3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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ghostchems · 4 months

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

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

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

“What are you writing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you insist.”

part three

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dark-and-kawaii · 7 days

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୨♡୧ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 ୨♡୧

Raphael x Reader/Tav

₊˚⊹♡ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʀᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ'ꜱ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ…

₊˚⊹♡ ɪ ᴛᴇᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ @octarinecat ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙ!! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɢᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴅʀᴀᴡɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ!!!

₊˚⊹♡ Soft Raphael | Tender | Comfort | You’re His Little Mouse | ♡

Who could have fathomed that the devil’s weakness would be so quaint, so profoundly human? Raphael, no matter the mindset of his mood, became so tame with just a simple tender caress, your fingers dancing lightly across his skin. The flutter of his long lashes, as they closed in a quiet surrender, would always steal your breath away. There lay an unspeakable beauty in his eyes, in his lashes, you swore they were like invisible chains keeping you here at his side.

Your cherished moments were those when he would sit at his desk, writing up some new contract frustratingly, his temperament almost irate. Clad in your silk robe, draped loosely around you, you would approach the devil- your devil, wrapping him in the warmth of an embrace from behind. Your fingers always tracing the hidden strength of his muscles, clothed yet palpable. The way he would abandon his quill, freeing his hand to secure yours against him, a gesture so simple yet so profoundly intimate. Raphael would recline, a soft sigh parting his lips, yielding to the serenity of your touch, the gentle graze of your nails ever so soothing.

As sleep beckoned him, Raphael found himself seeking you out, a secret desperation for your presence whispering through him. Whether you lounged on his plush couch, lay amidst opulent pillows on the floor near his bath, or awaited him in the shared sanctuary of his bed, each time he’d find solace in your embrace. “You know what I enjoy, little mouse,” a quiet command to which you were only too willing to oblige.

With his shirt cast aside, your nails sketched visions and dreams upon his back, his head nestled within the warmth of your lap as you continued your gentle ministrations. Each bite into his skin drew forth a deeper shiver of pleasure, painting a genuine smile upon your face. The delight of having such a formidable fiend so exposed, so vulnerable beneath your touch… My how it elicited a soft chuckle from your lips.

And each time you chuckled, the roles would reverse and you found yourself beneath him, the devil straddling your hips, his smirk devilishly charming. "Something amusing, pet?" he would challenge, striving to wield control, to maintain his powerful facade around you. Yet, when you slipped your hand from his grasp and traced your nails delicately along his cheek, he would find himself leaning into your touch, surrendering once more before pressing a kiss into your palm, his sharp teeth nipping at your skin, “My little mouse,”

#beautiful collab with a beautiful person xoxo #𝓚𝓲𝔀𝓲 & 𝓞𝓬𝓽 𝔁𝓸𝔁𝓸 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #tav #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate #raphael x tav #raphael bg3 x reader #bg3 x reader

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scuttlingcrab · 16 days

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Fiendish Rewards

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

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

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

(Image via raphael-ancunin)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Raphael, always the poet.”

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

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

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

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

“Dunno.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have something that belongs to me.”

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

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

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

“May I see the Crown, please?”

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

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

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

“A wise choice.”

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

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

“Gods. Really, Raphael?”

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

“Fine, are we to do this here then?”

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

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

“Come, it is time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raphael extended his arm, welcoming her acceptance.

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

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

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

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

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