scuttlingcrab - Tumblr blog

scuttlingcrab · 7 days

Text

A Devil's Lament

Summary: Raphael brings Tav to an abandoned chapel, hoping to complete one final task before he begins his conquests of the Hells.

Notes: I was inspired by my friend Mark Choi and his announcement of a new piano arrangement of "Down By The River." I desperately needed to see Raphael playing not just a piano, but a pipe organ. And what would suit the occasion? Our favourite Devil playing a song he had composed over a millenia ago, after he first lost the Crown of Karsus...

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

(Image via certifieddilfenjoyer)

There once stood a magnificent chapel along the road to Baldur’s Gate. Mortals came from far and wide to bask in its glory, seek refuge from whatever sorrows afflicted them, and pray to the deity it was erected to honour. However, like most beautiful things on this plane, it was slowly worn down from one conflict after another, until it merely stood as a dilapidated relic of a time gone by.

On a particularly humid evening, nearly one year after the Elder Brain’s assault on Faerûn, Raphael found himself with Tav on the outskirts of the chapel, staring fondly at his old stomping grounds. No place was off limits when it came to his Devilish business, and the various religious structures scattered across the realms always proved to be the most lucrative. Raphael partook in his favourite game of hunting mortals in the very establishments they trusted, luring them into his traps with fanciful proposals of fortune and glory.

The Devil never settled on the weaker creatures unless there were no other alternatives, but it was the clerics and overly righteous he craved. There was nothing more joyous than watching their resolve slowly decay after his cunning verbiage and skillful charms got under their skins. Their potent souls were simply delectable, and worth all the time and effort to acquire them.

“So what are you planning?” Tav asked, stopping Raphael from reminiscing any further. “I thought you said we had no time to waste.”

“Walk with me, if you will, there is a final task I must complete before we are to continue.”

Raphael had already started on the path ahead and Tav quickly jogged to keep up, the stones crunching beneath her boots. He smiled to himself at the notion of her, the Hero of Baldur’s Gate, running after him.

As Raphael strode through the remains of the toppled structure, he searched for something far more valuable than the achievements of past meals. Raphael was after the heart and soul of the old chapel, the instrument responsible for the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard in his lifetime. The chapel’s pipe organ.

He heaved a sigh of relief to find the instrument still nestled at the far end of the rubble, under a canopy of overgrown trees. He had not been back since the fight against the Absolute, and in truth feared for the worst. Raphael would never let that spectacular creation suffer the same fate due to the failures of mortalkind, but he too had neglected it; spending the last few months muddled in the intricacies of reforging the Crown of Karsus.

The Devil had often argued with himself about whether or not to bring the pipe organ to the House of Hope. He had an idyllic place for it on his atelier balcony, overlooking the River Styx and barren wastelands of Avernus. But doing so would open him up to countless interruptions and he’d lose what he valued most: his precious solitude. He would never risk it.

“A marvel…” Raphael whispered, tilting his head up to admire the towering organ, the 3,000 golden pipes glistening in the darkness.

His eyes attentively moved across the pipes, carefully inspecting every surface for signs of damage. It was no secret that Raphael cherished the instrument, nearly as much as the Crown he had desired for over a millenia. It was Raphael’s own toy box, it could imitate nearly any orchestral instrument with just a few minute actions unnoticeable to the common mortal. The organ could do wonders above and beyond any grand piano, or even any symphony. With this tool, Raphael was his own maestro, having the power to freely weave his own melodies into existence and escape into the futures he so desperately desired.

“This hunk of junk? It’s practically falling apart.”

“I will not hear another peep from you.” Raphael hissed, turning to face Tav. He raised his finger threateningly towards her, as if scolding a small child.

Tav raised both of her hands apologetically, though there was still a hint of impishness in her smile as she took a step back.

“Sorry. Carry on then…”

Raphael sniffed sharply, in an attempt to keep his infernal flames at bay. As powerful and useful as that mortal was, she was a constant irritant; pushing Raphael closer and closer to his boiling point the more time he spent with her. And yet, they were inseparable since Tav had gifted the Crown to Raphael. Of all the creatures, in all the wretched planes, that little mouse had to be the one to fall into his claws, leaving a lasting effect on him.

He quickly redirected his attention to the pipe organ, brushing off the rotten twigs and dirt from the three keyboards. He snapped his fingers and a leather bench appeared, replacing the one that had broken long ago.

Raphael eagerly took his seat, lightly running his feet over the pedalboard to test it was still functional. He then prepared the various stops along the edges of the organ, choosing his intended octaves for the serenade to come.

After a few more minutes of fiddling with the organ, making sure all the divisionals were arranged accordingly, he was ready to begin.

With another snap of Raphael’s fingers, sheet music took shape before him. The chosen melody had been etched into his memory for a thousand years, yet he still brought out the yellowing sheets of paper whenever he dared to play it. Like the ruins surrounding him, the pages were close to deteriorating, slowly withering away at the edges.

The music notes were barely legible, the ink having faded a century or two earlier. Raphael dared not handle the pages by hand, as they would crumble at the slightest touch. Seeing the pages again were oddly comforting to the Devil, a sign of how far he has come. As painful as it was to revisit the meaning behind the music, the moment would always be part of Raphael, no matter how often he tried to consign it to oblivion.

The Devil took a deep breath and pressed his fingers against the keys. His exhale matched the roaring bellow that emerged from the pipes. Energy surged through his hands as he played the beginning of the piece, his feet moving to a completely different rhythm against the pedalboard. The low notes coming from his feet accompanied the lighter ones from his fingers, creating a flawless harmony.

The sounds of the pipe organ soon filled the air, echoing around him like lost ghosts wailing in the dark. It was haunting, exquisite, and a perfect representation of his internal strife. It was Raphael’s lament - the anguish, vexations, and seething hatred from all the years of his existence poured through his own spirit into the instrument. The reverberations from the pipes shook the trees above Raphael, causing the leaves to fall like snowflakes.

These same feelings had fuelled Raphael’s drive and ambition since he was a young Devil. He was discarded by Mephistopheles and left to rot in the deepest, darkest parts of the Hells; forced to suffer for a sin he had not committed. Raphael still found his way, against all odds, and survived every obstacle thrown at him. He learned how to rely only on himself, to play the game of the Hells, and quickly rise up the ranks by tipping the scales in his favour. He had ruthlessly betrayed allies and levelled entire cities, and he would do it a hundred times over if it meant he was closer to fulfilling his destiny of uniting the Nine Hells. He would show his father how powerful and capable he truly was.

As Raphael continued, he let himself get lost in the tempo, not questioning where his hands went next, which stops he pulled, or where his feet would take him. He soon found the keyboards were wet, had it begun to rain? He closed his eyes, a lump forming in his throat as decades worth of repressed emotions started to bubble to the top. He felt his fingers slip on a key, and then another, causing him to miss a few notes, but he quickly amended the mistake. He opened his eyes in fury, only to realise that he was crying. He clenched his jaw, causing the tears falling down his cheeks to quickly evaporate as his body sizzled in anger; resenting himself and the situation, always such a fool to let these fleeting emotions get the best of him.

He wasn't sure how long he had been playing, but his fingers throbbed as they continued to press against the keys. He wanted to continue, to replay the song again and again, to make sure it was perfect, but it was coming to its natural conclusion. He would need to leave it as is.

Raphael played the final notes, holding his fingers to the keys for an extra beat as the sounds slowly faded. He snapped his fingers and a small flame appeared in his hands. He lifted it up towards the music sheets and let the edges of the papers catch fire. The pages were devoured by the flames within a matter of seconds. Let the ashes of his lament stay within the ruins of the chapel.

“Gods…” Tav whispered, her voice choking with emotion. “Did you…?”

“I have never played that in front of another mortal. The first and last time you will ever hear such a piece.”

“It was remarkable.”

“I know.” Raphael responded, rising from the bench.

He flicked his wrist and the Crown of Karsus materialised before them. He caught reflections of himself in the Crown as he stared at it, his visage splitting into broken shards against the material of the relic. Different versions of Raphael stared back at him, as if from alternate timelines, offering a range of glimpses into his future. He smiled at the reflections and the thought of what he might look like donning the Crown, fighting against Zariel and her forces, in all his glory.

“It was a fitting farewell and one I had been looking forward to for a considerable amount of time. Now onto new beginnings, come.”

Tav didn’t wait for Raphael to create a portal, she jumped towards him, latching on to his arm. On previous occasions he would’ve shooed her away, like an irksome mosquito, but he let her stay clinging to him. Just this once, perhaps for his own comfort.

Tonight Raphael would write a different composition - one of celebration and conquest, that he would play throughout the decades to come, solidifying his reign.

#writing #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #raphael fanfic #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #raphael #crown of karsus #bg3 tav #raphael bg3 x tav

75 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 14 days

Text

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.

176 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 22 days

Note

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.

207 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 26 days

Note

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

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

Oh, the companions are gonna FREAK when they see Raphael materialize at their camp carrying an unconscious Tav. 🤣 Then there's Raphael, who wants to be the only one benefiting from Tav's talents...

*looks back at a previous response to an ask*

"I like to imagine Tav and their band of heroes have so much swag that it immediately intimidates enemies and gives them advantage in battle."

So wouldn't that mean that Tav has already- ?

Oh... Oh! Is this going where I think it's going?!

LOL. Thank you so much for your message and I really hope you had fun reading it.

For Shadowy Deals I kind of rolled with it, thinking it could be fun for Raphael to hunt Tav down after she left him hanging in Dressed to Kill. Imagine Raphael pacing his House of Hope, waiting to get an answer from Tav but to be ignored as she just moves on with her escapades throughout the Sword Coast. And of course, being daft enough to get herself trapped by True Soul Gut in the process. The little mouse, continuing to make a mockery of herself.

I've gotten some recent asks relating to Tailor Tav that I'm hoping to get out soon-ish! I'm cooking lots of fun stuff, just need to figure out which one to commit to next, haha.

To give a little tease, I'm hoping one of the upcoming pieces is Raphael finding out/reacting to Tav making clothes for everyone BUT him, even after the initial gift.

Thanks again anon, and if anyone wants to send me other Raphael promps, my doors are always open.

^.^

#bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #raphael #asks #tailor tav

10 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 28 days

Note

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

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

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

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

Shadowy Deals

(Image via adevilyoudo)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“R-Raphael?!”

Raphael tilted his head, bowing slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Truly a horrid substance…” Raphael sputtered.

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

”So, Korrilla…” Tav began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair enough… I still prefer the ale.”

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

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

”She was preoccupied.”

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

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

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

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

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

Tav laughed into her cup, taking another mouthful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It…one drink… was only one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

136 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 1 month

Text

Mortals

A Warlock’s Sacrifice

Summary: Raphael seeks the aid of his prized warlock after he finds an intruder has broken into his House of Hope. Raphael confronts Tav in the aftermath of combat.

Notes: Read a Warlock is Born, if you want to know more about Dolofina and why Raphael is so bitter about that bloody painting. ;)

Warnings: Mild violence, death. Some light angst.

(Image via angellayercake)

Raphael’s garments were soggy, weighing like anchors on his limbs as he sloshed his way through the mud. He was somewhere on the Coast Way, in the middle of nowhere; worlds apart from all the juiciest gossip, political rumblings, and mortal misfortunes that satiated his boredom.

He glowered, grinding his teeth as he approached a body discarded in a ditch. Raindrops sizzled and promptly dissipated upon hitting his forehead. He would have slaughtered any mortal who was unfortunate enough to lay eyes on him in this heinous state.

Raphael had been forced to leave the dinner party in a rush, barely able to dangle the deals he had worked on for a fortnight in front of his budding clients. He would have to sweeten the proposition tenfold the next time he saw them. Raphael would dishonour himself, his blood, his legacy, if he did not. Devil’s never cancelled plans, let alone rescheduled. That thought nearly made Raphael stop in his tracks, shivering with shame, disgust dripping from his shoulders, but he shook it away. Weak, mortal emotions he had no time for this evening.

As Raphael approached the body he paused, tapping it with his pointed boots. Upon getting no response but the sounds of rain drizzling and wind whistling, he tapped it again before proceeding to viciously kick it. Muffled groans escaped the body. He kicked it harder, again and again until the mortal slowly rolled over on their back, revealing their swollen and discoloured face. Dolofina. His prized warlock, reduced to a drunken stupor, no doubt caught in another rowdy pub brawl. How utterly reprehensible.

With a sinister smile, and naturally, just to humour himself, he kicked the half-elf in the ribs a final time. She cursed at Raphael, spitting blood on his boots.

“What a sorry sight you are. I was unaware I had made a pact with such a disgraceful debauchee.”

Dolofina looked up at Raphael, twisting her face in confusion.

“A… what? Why do you bloody devils always speak like that?”

Raphael’s nostrils flared as he stared at Dolofina. Must she always be so difficult!

“An inebriate and an ignoramus. What a charming combination.”

“You’re giving me a headache.” Dolofina hiccuped as she rolled over on her side, gesturing as if to go back to sleep.

“No. We will be having none of that.”

Raphael snapped his fingers and Dolofina appeared on her feet, vigorously swaying, as if stuck on a rocky boat at sea. She desperately grabbed on to Raphael’s arm to keep her balance.

“You’re never any fun. Didn’t Korrilla tell you it’s my night off?”

Raphael’s lips warped in disfavour.

“Do you think this is a game? You will never be so lucky as to be rewarded with a night off. Pah! Always such ludicrous terms with you mortals! So quick to jump at any opportunity if it means you can do nothing but laze about and wait for death.”

Raphael’s skin began to steam. A hazy glow enveloped him as the rain ricocheted off his body.

“You continuously resort to these drunken escapades when you have yet to finish the tasks at hand. When you’re frolicking about this rotten plane you represent me, no matter the location. My honour, my future, is at stake.”

Dolofina recoiled, quickly pulling her hand away from Raphael’s arm. She opened her palm to reveal light burns on her skin.

“Sometimes… I wonder if it was worth making that deal with you.” Dolofina muttered, holding the injured hand to her chest.

Raphael opened his mouth, as if to criticise Dolofina again, to reduce her even lower, but he stopped short. Instead he observed her, crossing his arms.

“If you wish to die, just say the magic words.”

“I’m not rolling over that easily. You’ll have to work harder for this soul.” Dolofina perked up, crookedly smiling at Raphael as she swayed.

Raphael’s eyes widened and he howled with laughter, his cackles roaring through the desolate valleys around them. Such a pitious creature, so blissfully unaware of her fate, so quick to jump to conclusions; to have the gall to think she’s got the upper hand on Raphael. A devil. The future Supreme Master of the Nine Hells.

His laughter trailed off as he applauded Dolofina, clapping vigorously as if he had just finished watching a pantomime.

“Are you done?” Dolofina responded, dryly.

“Oh… you poor little thing. Did I forget to tell you?”

Dolofina’s face quickly grew dim. She tilted her head, eyebrows knitting, as she waited for Raphael’s response.

Raphael cleared his throat, returning to his previously stern composition.

“When you die, your soul is Zariel’s not mine,” Raphael warned, through a sly smirk. “I immediately sold your soul for something far more valuable to my end goals. Profit. Investment. And I’d do it again if I could. Consider it a punishment for my painting.”

Dolofina scoffed and raised a fist towards Raphael, putting her arm back as if to punch him in the mouth.

“You’re a real prick. You still care about that bloody thing?”

Raphael’s stare hardened as he thought back to the painting. The perfect sunset. That precious work of art that would’ve been proudly displayed in his House of Hope only remained but a memory, growing more distant with each passing year. His greatest creation had been taken from him, all thanks to Dolofina and her failed attempt at thievery.

Dolofina took a step towards Raphael and hesitated, fist trembling, as she stared at him with hatred.

“Be grateful you were not turned to ash that day. I provided you with the power that courses through your veins and you get to live another day. To serve me. If you do want your soul back, you’ll have to deal with Zariel. Or don’t, instead waste your potential on cheap liquor and whore yourself about the Sword Coast. Resort yourself to ruin for all I care.”

Dolofina lowered her hand and fell to her knees in the mud, deflating.

Raphael nodded, pleased by this reaction. He relaxed his shoulders, almost relieved he didn’t need to waste the entire evening punishing her. Again. Let her learn the hard way. It was essential to pull the rug from under his pets, tighten their collars, make them panic over whether or not it was truly their last breath. Even his finest creatures needed to be reminded of who was really in charge.

For now Dolofina belonged to Raphael. His magnificent weapon to utilise and mould as he saw fit. She was still oozing with potential, harbouring raw power that he could squeeze out of her before she expired. Raphael always made the most out of his acquisitions, no matter the expiration date. By the time Zariel got Dolofina’s soul, it would be worthless to her.

“The evening is young, and there is work yet to be done. Now, if you will–”

Abruptly the world around Raphael froze, high pitched ringing emerged from the darkness, piercing his ears. His body tensed, flickering between his mortal and cambion forms. Raphael’s heartbeat intensified, his body temperature rising, as he let the warning cries pump through his body. Each wail came with a message, confirming a growing urgency. A warning, a threat. Those alarms hadn’t been triggered in decades. Who or what was foolish enough to trespass into his house? Enter his archives? Raphael’s jaw tightened and his body burst into flames, he screamed into the darkness, knowing that he could release these vexations in privacy.

He snapped his fingers, the cries ceased, and the flames died. Dolofina continued to kneel in the mud, staring down like an obedient servant, blissfully unaware of Raphael’s discovery.

“Alert Korrilla. Tell her to meet me at the House of Hope. You may join us only after you regain your composure. There are thieves creeping through my halls and the Master of the House will be there to show them a generous reception.”

Dolofina looked up at Raphael, eyebrows raised, lips moving as if to reply to his demand with a question. There was no time for explanations. He vehemently snapped his fingers and vanished.

____

Dolofina rested her head on top of the bar, eyeing the cask of ale behind Hoots Hooligan with jealousy. It was whispering her name, taunting her. Dolofina’s eyes shifted to the other patrons in Sharess’ Caress chugging their mugs of ale without a care in the world. She wanted nothing more than to have another drink, to consume everything until she couldn’t remember a damned thing, but Raphael’s words lingered; clattering around her head like a loose screw. Her soul belonged to Zariel now. That prick.

Dolofina let out an exasperated sigh, catching the attention of Hoots.

“Having fun?” Hoots asked, stacking up bottles behind the counter.

“You could say that…”

Hoots took a glass and filled it up with water, placing it in front of Dolofina with a wink.

Dolofina’s stomach curled as she looked at the beverage. She had spent the past hour huddled in the privy, chucking up her mistakes from earlier. There was nothing left in Dolofina’s stomach, but the thought of Raphael’s threats and his mocking jabs made her want to run back to the outhouse.

“We don’t want your boss angry now, do we? Hells, I wouldn’t want him breathing down my neck...”

“You’re right.”

Dolofina groaned as she took a tiny sip of water, cringing as it touched her lips.

“Have I mentioned I fucking hate you?” Dolofina said, chugging the rest of the water and slamming the empty glass on the counter. Hoots snickered as they continued with their work.

Dolofina had rolled the dice and failed spectacularly, her quick attempt at fixing one problem spawned into a million more. It was worse enough signing a contract with Raphael but now losing her soul to Zariel? Gods, that was something else entirely. She was truly, utterly fucked.

Since Raphael had become Dolofina’s patron, he had shown her nothing but cruelty; never letting her forget her mishaps and often going out of his way to crush whatever spirit she had left.

He had even forced Dolofina to train with Korrilla, her nemesis, knowing damn well that Korrilla wanted her dead. Dolofina had been stabbed repeatedly, set on fire, and nearly blown to smithereens during those training sessions and Raphael made sure he never missed a moment; laughing hysterically from the sidelines as Dolofina fought for her life. Day in and day out.

It didn’t matter how many souls she brought Raphael, or how many of his assignments she completed on time, he’d never be satisfied. She would always be subpar, not even worth the dirt under his bloody feet.

And yet... despite daydreaming about punching him in that big stupid face or trying as hard as she could to hate him, there was a part of her that just couldn’t. Somehow she respected him; he was her mentor, in a fucked up way. And she was thankful for her time in Avernus, even if she still wasn’t used to the sweltering heat. Life could’ve been worse. If she had succeeded in stealing that diamond from the Devil’s Fee, where would she be now? Probably living in squalor, maybe in jail, but still under contract with Nine-Fingers. No doubt about it.

Dolofina tapped her fingers nervously on the bar, drumming repeatedly to an unknown, erratic beat. She looked over her shoulder, waiting for Raphael to appear in flames and pull her through a portal, but he never showed. Something was off.

“Where the hell are they?” Dolofina whispered.

She stood up, the room spinning. Dolofina placed a hand on the bar stool and took a deep breath. In and out. Gods. Why did she choose tonight, of all fucking nights, to get smashed and disobey? It would take at least another hour until Dolofina was ready, capable of fighting, if she needed to. She couldn’t just sit there anymore and wait, she was composed enough.

Dolofina closed her eyes, trying to sense if Raphael was still in the House of Hope. Feelings of anger and torment immediately attacked her senses; muddled visions of fighting and bloodshed, Raphael on his knees and the House of Hope in ruin flooded through her mind. It overwhelmed her, the images trying to claw their way out of her skull.

She gasped, nearly falling over backwards. The room spun faster, the weight on her chest growing heavier. Raphael… in trouble? No. That couldn’t be, but those visions…

“I’ll be right back,” Dolofina muttered, dropping some coins on the countertop.

She ran up the stairs before Hoots could even turn around to acknowledge her. In a heartbeat she reached the Devil’s Den, kicking the doors open and charging inside. She threw every drawer open in Raphael’s desk until she found it. The scroll of plane shift. She couldn’t give less of a shit if his room was left in a mess or if she used his precious rare scroll. She’d deal with Raphael’s anger after she saved his sorry ass. Maybe that would make him stop tormenting her.

Dolofina grinned, imagining the look on Raphael’s face when he realised she had come to his rescue, that she was more than capable of doing something with her life.

She was fucked either way, but she might as well go out on her own terms.

____

Dolofina transported herself into the foyer of the House of Hope, clumsily landing on her hands and knees.

The smell of burnt flesh stung Dolofina’s nostrils, her eyes watering. There was carnage all around her, mortal bodies mixed with fallen cambions and comrades. Souls leaked through the shattered soul pillars, buzzing around the ceiling like trapped flies. Korrilla and Yurgir’s bodies lay twisted, shoved up against the foyer’s massive doors.

Dolofina recognised some of the human remains; a vampire, a tiefling, and a cleric… those bloody adventurers Raphael obsessed over, the very ones he forced Korrilla and Dolofina to spy on, study like creatures in an exhibit. Dolofina warned Raphael they’d be his downfall, his infatuation knowing no bounds, and for once she was right.

A tall woman, their leader, stood above Raphael, holding a sword in her hands. Half of her body was burned, her melting skin glowing red. The woman grimaced as she held the weapon, struggling to keep it lifted. Raphael was on his knees, looking up at the woman with contempt. His cambion form was in bad shape, his wings torn to pieces and face slashed open. They were both at their last end.

Dolofina gasped, catching Raphael’s attention. His eyes narrowed.

“Stay. Back.” Raphael’s voice boomed through Dolofina’s mind, rattling her teeth.

“Get. Up!” She mouthed in response, but Raphael ignored her, directing his attention back to the woman.

The woman’s body pulsed as she lifted the sword back, energy humming through the foyer as she charged her final attack. Raphael sluggishly moved a hand, his fist filling with fire in an attempt to counter it.

Dolofina jumped to her feet, dashing towards them. Raphael watched her movements with wide eyes. He attempted to stand, shifting his body towards Dolofina but he stumbled, the fire in his hands extinguishing.

“NO!” Dolofina shrieked, jumping in between Raphael and the incoming sword.

Pain erupted through her chest, a thunderous explosion shattering the air. The force of the blow threw her down on Raphael and they both slid across the floor.

When she opened her eyes, Raphael was glaring down at her. His features contorted with fury. Yet there was something different to the anger she expected from him, the flames in his eyes were smaller, lighter.

Dolofina screamed in discomfort, her insides burned, as if a million tiny flaming daggers were trying to force their way through her torso. Raphael’s body tensed under Dolofina with each spasm; she felt his arms around her as she convulsed, trying to hold her in place.

“You fool! Do you understand what you’ve done?” Raphael said, his voice rough and creaky.

All she could do was smile at Raphael. The flames were gone in his eyes but the frown remained, his face sombre.

“You’re welcome. Asshole.”

Each breath grew heavier, more painful. Her ears buzzed, darkness encircling her. She fought to keep it away, to stay in Raphael’s arms just a little longer, but her vision slowly faded. Her body felt so… numb. So cold.

The last thing Dolofina saw was Raphael’s face, fixating on his disappointment.

____

Raphael watched as Dolofina’s soul left her body, a green orb floating out of her mouth. It stopped above her chest, floating, waiting. Raphael extended his hand, holding the soul in his palm before it faded through his fingers. Irreclaimable. There was a dullness in his chest, a feeling of heaviness that only seemed to grow worse.

Raphael stared at his dead warlock, unable to look away from the corpse. Tav’s greatsword was still stuck in Dolofina’s chest, the smite had nearly ripped her in two. He could’ve handled another attack, maybe two. Dolofina’s interference was unnecessary. He still had another attack up his sleeve, his grand finale. If only she had listened, heeded his warnings… but she disobeyed him until the bitter end. All that potential, all his hard work and training was destroyed in an instant due to that creature’s ignorance. Courage and stupidity, often two sides of the same coin.

He pulled the sword from Dolofina’s body, using it to help him rise to his feet. His legs shook vigorously as he took a step towards Tav. Raphael’s wings dragged against the floor, they were dead weight now. He sighed wearily, using what strength he had left to snap his fingers, returning to his human form. His clothes were still in tatters, revealing his bare chest riddled with gashes and bruises.

The silence in the foyer was deafening as Raphael continued towards Tav, taking care to purposely step on the bodies of her fallen companions.

The creature, his little mouse, was still on her feet. She backed away as he continued, tripping over some rubble.

Raphael had once looked upon that creature with fondness, her visage bringing comfort to him as he watched her exploits through Faerûn, but now she was as hideous as those burns on her skin. He should finish the job, incinerate that creature’s body and soul. He didn’t need those tadpoled to get the Crown. He would do it himself.

“Give me the contract.” Raphael whispered, his skin hissing.

Tav shuddered at his words, pulling the document from her sack and handing it to Raphael. He snatched it back, sneering at her. He weakly snapped his fingers, unravelling the contract. It sizzled beside him, the text morphing as Raphael spoke.

“You lost today, little mouse.” Raphael said, bitterly, “Let this be a reminder, you are bound to me. Whether you deliver the Crown or not, your soul is now mine, as you can see here.”

Raphael flicked a finger and the contract flew at Tav, she fell on her back to avoid it whipping her face.

“Your soul is nothing to me, a petty trinket that I look forward to whittling down in my spare time. Succeed or fail, it is no bother. You will soon be praying to your Gods to turn you into a Mind Flayer. And do not think you have escaped your punishment for today’s offences. Your judgement awaits at a later date.”

“R-Raphael. I am sorry. Truly, please forg–”

“Do you understand me?”

Tav nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I cannot hear you, little mouse.”

“Y-Yes. I understand.”

“Good. Now leave, and take that filth with you, unless you wish to never see them again.”

Raphael gestured impassively towards her companion's corpses. Tav stared at him a final time, a last attempt to plead her forgiveness, but Raphael stared back at her, coldly. She was just another mortal to him now.

He stood next to Dolofina’s body and watched Tav drag each of her companions into the summoning circle. It took her ages, but he did not offer a helping hand, no matter how hard she struggled, or how loud she sobbed.

When Tav finally left Avernus, Raphael snapped his fingers and the circle disappeared. He was alone, the quiet hitting him harder than any blow he encountered during combat. He looked down at Dolofina’s body, his chest stinging from the open wounds and regret.

Raphael could still hear Dolofina’s words echoing, “Asshole.” He couldn’t help but smile, a lump forming in his throat.

Indeed, the halls would be emptier without her...

40 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 1 month

Note

Just read the ballroom dance Tav x Raphael post and one of the first coherent thoughts I had (that wasn't just some variation of fangirl squeeing) was 'I wonder if that was the magic tailor Tav and if she made her own attire.' My second coherent thought was 'I must go back and reread Raphael getting sniped by cupid's arrow!' I swear this devil-man falling hard for Tav is just- It makes me grin and giggle so much.

Hi Anon!

Thank you so much for your message and I really hope you enjoyed Dance with the Devil! Side note, I realised I had a bunch of typos in it since posting it last night, so have corrected a few things, haha. Hopefully it wasn't too distracting to those who read it yesterday. I got too excited! 😭🙏🏼✨

In my head, it's definitely Tav, the magic tailor. And that's who inspired Raphael to dress phenomenally at the ball, although he didn't imagine running into her. Perhaps throughout their story arc, Tav had taught Raphael a few things about making clothes, he of course took copious notes, and inevitably "borrowed" the techniques to make his suit and mask. Also despite Tav knowing how to craft the finest pieces of clothing, she'd always dress modestly at camp and while on her adventures so it might've been the first time she was in a proper dress.

For this I was also really inspired by the Sound of Music, and this scene in particular, when Maria dances with the Captain. Just too good!

Thank you again for your message and of course, massive thanks to the original anon for inspiring Tailor Tav(™️). I’ve got your prompts and hopefully can respond soon, when I’m not thinking about Raphael. I make no promises, haha! 🤣

#raphael #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #asks #tav x raphael #thank you #Tailor Tav

17 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 1 month

Note

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

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

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

Dance with the Devil

(Image via venenum-cadaverinus)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am most honoured, my lady. “

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

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

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

“Mmm. And what of your relationship status?

“I am unfortunately married to my work.”

“As they all say...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May I have this dance?” Raphael asked.

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

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

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

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

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

Raphael chuckled.

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

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

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

“Our deal is done.”

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

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

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

“Don’t act so surprised.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The applause continued, getting louder and louder.

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

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

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

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

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

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

167 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 2 months

Note

Assuming cambions can get drunk, one way or another, how about a thingy following Raphael's perspective as he wakes up after being drunk only to find himself wrapped in the arms of his little mouse (whom he is definitely not pining for even a little bit /s), even though he knows for a fact he hadn't brought her here? They are both clothed and Tav is still asleep. As Raphael tries to recall what happened the night before, he faintly remembers that Haarlep or Korrilla brought Tav to him then left... and after Tav helped/convinced him to go to bed, she turned to leave and- Oh... He grabbed for her wrist and begged asked for her not to leave, for her to please stay with him. What would he do next?

I'm slowly making my way through all the brilliant prompts folks are sending and having a blast. Thank you so much for this one, really hope you enjoy! x

Summary: Raphael wakes up with a hangover, only to find Tav sleeping on his chest. He desperately tries to make sense of the entire situation.

Hangover from Hell

Raphael floated in darkness, completely void of any sound or sensation. In a flash, a red glowing orb appeared before him, leagues away, floating patiently. A light buzzing accompanied it, echoing around him. Raphael tried to move his head, a hand, something, but he remained stagnant.

The glowing orb increased in brightness, growing bigger as it approached Raphael. He tried to shout, to scream, for anyone, anything, but no words, no whimpers, escaped his mouth. His body pulsed and throbbed the more the orb got closer, a sharp heat radiated from where his chest would've been. The buzzing intensified as the orb’s shape grew more distinct, pointier, growing horns. 1, 2… 5 horns, each with their own red glowing sphere, almost as if it resembled…

The void vanished, yet his head still throbbed, matching the irregular rhythm of his heart. Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. It felt like an orthon, or another savage infernal beast, was attempting to rip his head in two. He clenched a fist, his fingers touching a smooth, cold surface. He opened his eyes, but was immediately blinded by bright lights, stinging deep within his retinas.

He could feel himself spinning, losing control, no matter how hard he grabbed on to the ground for stability. Was he bested in battle? Poisoned? Did Raphael’s dear father finally catch a whiff of his meddlings? He had been careful, calculating, operating from the shadows, never revealing too much, never saying too little to even Harleep during their intimacy. What went wrong? This is not the end, he will make it to the finale. He will not be made a fool!

He opened his eyes again, the light less piercing as he began to make sense of his current surroundings. Familiar objects populated his vision; wooden wardrobes, ornate windows, sparkling marble floors… the Devil’s Den. He was lying on the floor, his body inches from the bed. His clothes were damp from sweat, yet his skin was burning.

Raphael grumbled as he attempted to roll over on his side but his movement was restricted. Something was latched onto him, sinking into his chest. He looked down, only to find a fully clothed mortal woman… no, not any woman, Tav, snuggled into his chest, her dainty little fingers held him close. She slept soundly, as if he was a sorry substitute for a pillow.

Raphael’s eyes narrowed, he hastily dug through the recesses of his memory, trying to cling on to anything from the night before to make sense of this bizarre predicament but could find nothing, only fuzziness.

He sprang up in exasperation, desperately trying to slither out of Tav’s embrace. The broiling rage that had been growing in his chest was instantly extinguished by the onslaught of vertigo. The room whirled faster and faster, chaos encircling him. Raphael gritted his teeth to keep himself from tipping over. Enough! Foul creatures and their disreputable games!

Raphael viciously snapped his fingers and the ailments faded, his mind slowly became clearer, the ground beneath him stilling. Tav was seemingly unaffected by Raphael’s movements, continuing with her slumber. His body began to tremble as he watched her.

He would prefer to have been bested by Mephistopheles, chained and tortured repeatedly in the confines of his icy prison in Cania, than find himself in this demeaning state. How far he had fallen, so disgustingly low, sharing the same ground with these mortals.

Raphael snapped his fingers again and Tav teleported to the bed, her posture unchanged. Free of that creature. He rose to his feet, steadying his balance. In doing so, he caught sight of himself in the mirror across the room and growled. He was barely identifiable. His usual pristine hair, ever so slightly slicked back, was tangled and matted against the back of his head. His clothes were bedraggled, as if he had pulled them from an unholy wreckage.

“Bah!” He screamed, clapping his hands together as if to destroy an insect. The action restored his appearance but his pride was still damaged, so badly chipped he wasn’t sure if he would ever recover; no spell could make him forget this.

His eyes fell on a large circular table nestled in the corner of the room. One chair had fallen over and the other was pushed aside, left askew, as if done in haste. Empty shot glasses littered the top of the table, too many to tally without immediately losing count. Two empty bottles of whiskey lay discarded on the floor.

Raphael leapt towards the table, picking up a bottle, a few drops of bright yellow liquid sloshed about at the bottom. Raphael brought it to his nose and shivered as the scent elicited a memory: Korrilla handing him the bottles with a wink as she left his chambers. Red Whiskey. He should have known. One of the finest and deadliest spirits to be exported from the Hells. A single shot of this could leave even the most powerful infernal creatures on their backs and without their wits.

He glanced at Tav on the bed. And it would surely prove deadly to any mortal. But Tav wasn’t just any creature, she was chosen. Yes in truth by Raphael for his own nefarious purposes but as he stood there gaping at the creature, there was an impatient little tadpole swimming around her brain; waiting for metamorphosis. Perhaps that is why she was not currently lying dead on his marble floors? How she didn't choke on her own vomit in her sleep? That would have been a far more preferable sight than finding her head resting on his chest. Another thanks owed to the Elder Brain.

He pounded across the room like a caged animal as he began piecing together the events. No matter how hard he focused, he could only fish out fragments, mere images.

Tav meekly knocking on his door. Raphael leaning back in his chair, nursing a shot of whiskey in his hands, grinning. What should have been an easy win. Tav, sitting opposite Raphael, her face flushed, eyes glazed over as she rested her elbows on the table. Tav attempting a game of five-finger-fillet, nearly chopping off a thumb. Raphael’s vision cloudy, watching as Tav stumbled towards the door, a searing pain in his chest as he reached out to her...

Raphael dug his nails into his palms, drawing blood. He grimaced as he held his arms by his side. These memories, they were all false, soured by the infernal whiskey. Merely exaggerations. His neverending chase for the Crown had caused his imagination to run wild, too wild. He needed to tame his thoughts, that was the only explanation. Raphael would see it no other way.

Last night’s antics were merely strategic.

138 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 2 months

Note

"The doublet is a magical item, so it can fit and mould to Raphael’s body no matter his form or temper." Now I'm just picturing Raphael transforming in anger while wearing the doublet and his rage is momentarily stopped when he realizes that it transformed with him and wasn't even singed.

Like, I could be incredibly angry with someone, but if I suddenly realized that my dress had pockets in it I know darn well that I'd need to at least stop and take a moment to marvel at that discovery before even thinking about continuing on with my anger. 😅

I was literally working on something similar when you sent your message! I've attached the ask below I was initially responding to. Thank you for your message anon and hope you enjoy! x

"Also, the idea of Raphael showing off his new clothes is just- It just tickles me! I can see him preening and flaunting like a peacock because of Tav's gift. I'd honestly read a sequel piece about that, if you want to write it. I've kinda already fallen in love with the whole idea of a luxury magic tailor Tav that the initial prompt fill and response has created as well as that Tav's potential dynamic with Raphael (and other characters *looking at Gale and his sewing needle quip*) and would absolutely be down to read more of that from you! 👀"

Summary: Raphael is caught off guard by his recent gift from Tav, so he decides to pay his little mouse a visit.

Notes: Read A Perfect Fit, which inspired this continuation.

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

Dressed to Kill

Raphael stomped through the halls of the House of Hope, shedding his mortal skin. The doublet didn’t set fire when Raphael transformed, instead, it morphed with his growing size. The silk fabric soothed his ridged body, feeling like a warm embrace. Raphael suppressed a scream. Wretched mortal! The debtors scurried out of his path like rats, seeking the shadows for an ounce of solace from the blistering rage.

He passed an open window and jolted to a halt. The blood-red light of Avernus caught the designs of his doublet, causing it to glimmer like diamonds. During his shift, the colour of his clothing changed. It now had a dark golden shimmer, the infernal embroidery a deep blue. He extended his arm, admiring the sleeve as he twisted it only slightly, and watched as the adornment reflected tiny devilish patterns onto the marble floors. The decorations moved, as if dancing. Another interesting, subtle detail.

Staring at these animations, Raphael’s breath calmed, his mind cleared. He stood taller, his head never held so high. Abruptly he spotted one of the debtors staring at him from his peripheral and lowered his hand, slowly turning to face them. Fire burned in Raphael’s eyes as he hissed, barring his sharp teeth. The debtor screeched before scurrying off to continue their meaningless eternal task.

“If I catch just one more incompetent lackey idling about, I will impale your sorry souls on trees and leave you to rot. You are all interchangeable. Do not forget that.”

Raphael watched as the last debtor fled from his sight. He will not be caught off guard again. No. In fact… he will pay that creature a visit.

–

Raphael materialised at the creature's camp in a swirl of flames and sparks, returning to his mortal disguise.

The camp was quiet at this hour, the creatures asleep, separated into their individual makeshift tents. And what a ghastly camp it was, third-rate, at best. Miscellaneous equipment littered every corner, books lay discarded, shoddy clothes hung drying on trees, and the animals… When did these mortals domesticate owlbears? Savages.

He slowly approached Tav’s tent, nestled towards the lake's shoreline. He parted the flap with an index finger and peeked inside. The creature was fast asleep, sharing her tent with that monstrosity Karlach.

He watched them sleeping, so defenceless. He perked up at the thought. If he was so inclined, he could have easily ended their lives, consumed their souls before the tadpoles defiled them; all it would take is a snap of his fingers…

“Rise and shine, little mouse.” Raphael purred.

Tav sprang up from her bed roll, clumsily readying a dagger from her sleeve. She held it out towards Raphael, one eye still closed, as she fought off the interrupted slumber.

Karlach simply turned over in her bedding, yawning and stretching like a cat. She slowly opened her eyes, sitting upright when she spotted Raphael standing at the entrance.

He smirked in response, placing a hand on his hip.

“What the hell is this creep doing here?”

“Good evening to you too, Karlach. I am simply checking in on my prospective clients.”

Raphael bowed deeply, making sure to be as flamboyant as possible in his gesture.

“In the middle of the bloody night? Fuck off, devil.”

Raphael slowly straightened himself, adjusting his sleeves. He aimed his cuffs towards the campfire, taking care to make sure the lighting was just right to highlight the devilish decorations.

“Tut, tut, Karlach, language. If I wanted to hear such hideous sounds I’d speak with a lemure.”

Karlach leapt to her feet, the rickety infernal engine in her chest glowing brighter as she stared daggers at him.

“Karlach, please…”

Tav raised a hand at Karlach, putting away her weapon. She rubbed away the rest of the sleep and focused on Raphael. Her face instantly lit up when she caught sight of his doublet.

“You’re… wearing it?” Tav whispered. She brought her hands to her mouth, attempting to hide her flushed cheeks.

“But of course! How could I resist such a delicious gift? It’s not often a devil like myself comes across a mortal with such curious tastes. Your attention to detail is…”

Raphael dramatically clasped his hands together, as if in a prayer. Yes, indeed. Thank the Gods up above for damning these poor creatures and sending them straight into his claws.

“Superb!”

“Hells, what have you done?” Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

Tav gave Karlach a sidelong glance, narrowing her eyes. Raphael’s smile grew, devouring the creature’s disapproval and embarrassment. Almost as scrumptious as a soul.

“You are quite the seamstress. What else have you been creating on your adventures, hmm? I wonder, what would be the price for another item such as this? Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement?”

Tav’s mouth hung open at his words.

“I-I-uh, didn’t think that far ahead. Let me sleep on it.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, little mouse. You had my curiosity, but now… you have my full attention.”

Raphael raised his arms out wide, like a peacock strutting their finest feathers. He laughed as he surrounded himself in infernal flames. He had truly stumbled upon his greatest prize, his secret weapon to uniting the Nine Hells. Raphael would reach his target soon, that was for certain, but oh, oh yes... he would look hellishly chic in his pursuits. He would turn heads, devils and mortals alike.

110 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 2 months

Note

👋 Hi! I'm the anon who sent in the prompt about Tav making luxury items. Thank you so much for the fun read; I promise I will definitely send you more prompts in the future (thank you for expressing so much interest 🥺)!

I just read what you wrote and I really enjoyed what you came up with—can't believe I didn't think about clothes though! Now I'm imagining that the tadpoled group being led by this Tav is just going around adventuring while decked out in the most fire getups, courtesy of their leader.

Question though, would Raphael's new garment be able to survive him transforming into his cambion form? I honestly kinda hope that the answer is 'yes' because then that could mean that Tav doesn't just make luxurious clothes but luxurious magical clothes and did so super casually in the middle of nowhere!

Hello! ✨

I’m so happy you liked the post! A million thank yous for sending it to me and this follow up message. It was really inspiring and fun to think about what gift, besides the obvious Crown, that Raphael would savour.

I like to imagine Tav and their band of heroes have so much swag that it immediately intimidates enemies and gives them advantage in battle. 😅

Also, I left it a bit open in the post, I was going to add a cheeky paragraph or two about Raphael changing into his cambion form with the doublet, to test it was especially perfect, before he left the dungeon, but then decided against it. To me, he was so damn thrilled to have gotten this piece of clothing and maybe taken aback by realising he wasn’t alone, that he stormed off for perhaps more privacy. Plenty of time to test out his new outfit and show it off. 😎

But YES! The doublet is a magical item, so it can fit and mould to Raphael’s body no matter his form or temper. Perhaps Tav has a gift that was passed down from generation to generation, a line of master seamstresses/tailors, and perhaps after the Elder Brain is destroyed they’d go back and reopen their abandoned shop. 🥰

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

13 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 2 months

Note

So it's pretty obvious that Raphael would be a massive fan of luxury items. How would he react to Tav being able to make certain luxury items from scratch (such as lotions, massage oils, perfumes, soaps, etc.) and is really freaking good at it.

Maybe he learns this little fact about Tav when he receives a bundle of custom luxury items from one of his warlocks and it has a note which says, "To: Raphael. From: The mouse. A 'thank you' for the food." (assuming Tav filled a plate of food during the group's first encounter with the fiend)

Thank you for this awesome prompt. I took a liberty with this one, wanted to try something that maybe a writer hasn’t done before re: what luxury item Tav would make Raphael. I also referenced a few characters from my other stories. Marin, the composer from A Night at the Symphony and Dolofina, the warlock, from A Warlock is Born. I couldn’t resist! Hope you enjoy! And send on the next prompt if you haven’t already! :)

Summary: Raphael receives an unexpected gift from Tav.

Warnings: Mild violence/torture

––

A Perfect Fit

(Image via violadesdragons)

The screams were like music to Raphael’s ears.

The torment that resonated from each shriek, every wail that echoed into his House of Hope, if directed well, could create a symphony that would feed Raphael for weeks. A melody almost as magnificent as Marin’s concertos. Raphael mastered what buttons to push, what minute threads to pull, to achieve perfection.

Every human was an instrument in their own right. They had a unique cord, an unsung talent, that Raphael knew how to excavate and mould. He had spent millenia fiddling with mortals, experimenting with different techniques to inflict pain or even less conspicuous means to really persecute his poor unfortunate pets.

Nevertheless, Raphael despised it all. Torturing these creatures was so below his station, another idle role he had to play to keep up appearances in this never-ending farce to reach his objective, to reclaim the Crown of Karsus. He longed to see the players of his saga, his glorious ascension, leave the dark confines of the wings and enter the proscenium for all the planes to see.

Raphael listlessly looked up towards his current unfinished task, a withered mortal impaled on rusted spikes. No matter how hard Raphael stared at this rat, how tirelessly he worked his mind to calculate new methods to inflict agony, all Raphael could do was muster an apathetic groan in response.

He was almost relieved to hear footsteps approaching the dungeon, identifying the bouncy gait of one of his warlocks almost immediately. Dolofina.

Raphael smiled to himself, letting out a shallow breath as the doors slowly creaked open. He snapped his fingers, and another spike appeared, slowly lifting to meet the others.

“I do hope you have some interesting news for me. And think hard on your answer, or else I might swap you out with poor Boris.”

Raphael turned to greet Dolofina, the whimpers of the tortured human slowly rising as he approached her. She stared back at him without any emotion, unmoved by the threat. He taught her well.

“Apologies for the intrusion, but a woman was insistent you receive this. She wouldn’t leave Korrilla alone until she confirmed we’d deliver it to you.”

Dolofina lifted the basket in her hands with a sigh, offering it to Raphael.

“Pah! Which insolent creature is it this time? If it’s that damned–”

“She only referred to herself as the, and I quote, ‘little mouse.’”

Dolofina seemed perplexed at the name, rolling her eyes as she waited for his response. Raphael’s mouth parted, his eyes instantly becoming more animated at the mention of her.

“Could she be crawling to me already?” So fast, and such a pity. He had been looking forward to a tussle.

Raphael gingerly picked up the basket, holding it in his hands and carefully inspecting every inch as if it was an ancient relic. What a simple little offering, merely a straw woven basket. Its contents were hidden under gold wrapping paper and held together delicately by a red bow.

“Don’t worry, we’ve already inspected it for traps.”

Raphael gave Dolofina a flat stare.

“Do you think the creature would be so daft?”

Dolofina shrugged.

“I am merely a mortal, what would I know?”

There was a hint of mischief in Dolofina’s eyes as she smiled back at Raphael, so pleased with herself. He growled, pointing towards the threshold of his dungeon. The skin on his human disguise hissed, verging on transformation.

“You have overstayed your welcome. And might I remind you, I am your master. I can terminate our agreement whenever I see fit, be it from the smallest lapse in your performance. You know what that means for your future.”

“Yes, master.” Dolofina responded through tight lips. She promptly made her leave, but not without slamming the doors behind her.

“Must every creature under my employment be so thickheaded?” Raphael whispered, taking a moment to massage the bridge of his nose.

When Raphael was sure his boiling blood had cooled, he proceeded to focus his attention on the basket, now weighing heavy in his hands. It would’ve been a shame to have accidentally incinerated the gift with his temper, which was nearly uncontrollable in recent months, without even knowing what was inside.

Raphael started with the bow, carefully untying the knot. Once it was removed, he brought it to his nose, slowly taking in its scent. Cloves and roses. Oh how he relished it. Raphael placed the bow in his pocket and removed the wrapping paper. He discovered a small envelope sitting on top of a golden gift box. A sudden jolt of electricity shot through his veins as he opened the letter.

To: Raphael From: The Mouse Thank you for the food. Please accept this gift in exchange for your hospitality. If the measurements are not sufficient, perhaps we can schedule a fitting. You know where to find me.

Raphael snapped his fingers, leaving the letter floating in the air beside him as he continued with the box. His fingers, usually so calm and still, twitched with excitement.

Raphael gasped, removing a single doublet from the box, its red colour as dark as blood. The silk melted in his hands, the article of clothing sparkling against the roaring flames of the dungeon. Gold and silver markings were intricately embroidered throughout the jacket, infernal designs suiting Raphael’s tastes. The cuffs of the doublet were adorned with devil tails that swished and curled on a constant loop.

“My, my, the little mouse has been busy indeed.”

And what artistry! It had been ages, no centuries, since his eyes fell on such an alluring piece. Is this what it would feel like once he held the Crown in his hands?

Raphael snapped his fingers, the doublet now on his person. He sighed, oh it fit him perfectly, as if that creature knew Raphael’s body like the back of her hand. He raised his arms, bowed, did every possible movement that could come to his mind in that instant, and yet could find no imperfections.

Raphael was a generous devil, perhaps often too generous. He wasn’t opposed to receiving such luxurious gifts on occasion, but it was dangerous to play with his food. He considered for a moment being harsher to his future clients. The little mouse had a long road ahead of her if she was to help Raphael get what he desired. She needed to focus. No more distractions. No more gifts.

And yet…

Raphael clapped his hands and a mirror appeared before him. He gave himself a little spin, grinning. It was a suitable doublet. Cursed creature! Perhaps he could make other uses of these tadpoled yet. What was that mortal saying he heard so often? Ah yes, all work, and no play…

Raphael was pulled from his thoughts at the howls of the tortured mortal, still impaled above him. Raphael’s cheeks burned, he had been sloppy, overlooking that he was not alone.

He angrily snapped his fingers and the mortal combusted. Their screams died with the flames, leaving no signs of their previous existence as the ashes fluttered away. A waste of a soul, Zariel be damned. She’d never even notice it was missing.

And with that, Raphael stormed out of the dungeon, proudly wearing his new doublet.

154 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 2 months

Note

So you're asking for more Raphael prompts, but I can't seem to find any rules for what kind of prompts you want. Like, are NSFW or Durge prompts on the table? What about Haarlep? Stuff like that. I have prompt ideas, but I get incredibly nervous about sending them in if I don't know what someone's boundaries are. 😰

Oh gosh, can you tell I'm new to this? *face palms into oblivion*

First of all, thank you so much for asking and checking in advance.

I will make sure to update what prompts I want on my pinned post The Devil's Archive so no one has to go searching. I've also gotten some amazing prompts so far from anons, you guys are the best!

I haven't done any NSFW or Durge prompts yet, not sure if I can do them justice BUT I am always open to receiving them! Haarlep as well, I am curious to explore them more but would need to do a lil bit of research (which I don't mind). It might take a while to churn those out, but I love devouring them and will try my best.

I love everything focused on Raphael though - from prompts about Raphael being a magnificent bastard, his internal monologues on various aspects throughout his dealings, to Raphael x Tav, Raphael's life in the Hells, etc.

Thank you anon, and have a wonderful day!

#bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #fiction writing prompts #i cannot stop writing about him #raphael bg3 x tav #raphael x reader #harleep #asks

7 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 2 months

Note

So you said that Late Night Intruders was inspired by two prompts. What were they? (Late Night Intruders was really well written by the way.)

Hello anon!

Thank you so much for your message! Also thank you for taking the time to read Late Night Intruders, super-duper glad you enjoyed it!

The post is based on these 2 prompts I had gotten off the brilliant @mslanna. I combined them as they were a bit similar and I loved bits from both.

If you, or anyone else, have some more amazing prompts PLEASE don't hesitate to send them or reach out, as I need more inspiration! This one was so fun to write.

Almost Confessions: Secretly pining Raphael reacting to Tav saving his life. When he asks why they did so and/or what they want in exchange for saving him, Tav very clearly almost admits that they did it because they care about him, but they catch themself and, even though it is very obvious that the both of them know exactly what Tav was just about to say, the adventurer "corrects" themself ("I did it because I- Because you're my ally."). Tav then quickly tries to excuse themself; poor thing feels awkward and embarrassed because the cambion has not made his feelings for his little mouse clear at all.

Assassination in the HoH averted: Might I request Raphael, who is pining for Tav but unsure of Tav's thoughts on him, reacting to Tav, while visiting the House of Hope, taking what would have been a fatal hit from an assassin that was meant to end the cambion's life - Tav either pushes him out of the way or shields him with their own body. What is going through the fiend's mind and what does he do? (if you decide to do this prompt, please allow Tav to ultimately be okay despite definitively being dead weight/in critical condition at first... I love angst but can't handle sad endings)

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

8 notes · View notes

scuttlingcrab · 2 months

Text

Late Night Intruders

This was inspired by @mslanna and all the amazing Raphael prompts they shared with me. I'm being cheeky and combining 2 of the prompts, as they were quite similar.

Summary: Tav thwarts an assassination attempt against Raphael during the wee hours of the morning. And from Raphael's perspective, everything is going according to plan.

(Image via certifieddilfenjoyer)

Raphael smelled the intruder skulking behind him. Naturally he enjoyed the profuse aromas humans exuded when pushed to their breaking points but this one was vile; their fear was acrid and abhorrent, soiling the otherwise immaculate ambience of his private room in Sharess’ Caress.

Despite the distraction, he continued labouring over his current contract, taking care to add the final words to a clause he was amending for yet another poverty-stricken beggar. So hasty to exchange their souls for gold. And no wonder, the tremors in Baldur’s Gate were getting worse, sometimes occurring by the hour, the more the Elder Brain gained power. Swim tadpoles, swim; for no matter how far you sprint, you will not escape the wrath of the Illithid when judgement day arrives.

The smell grew stronger as the stranger crept closer but then another odour broke through: a mixture of sage and damp wood. Sparks lit up in Raphael’s mind with the sudden familiarity.

“What a pity, you’ve given yourself away, Dain…”

Without warning, the air around Raphael turned cold. Shards of ice shattered around him, ripping through his sleeves and leaving his desk riddled with frozen fragments. He paused his writing, tightly grasping the infernal quill between his fingers. The ice around Raphael melted rapidly, creating a pool of water by his feet that began to sizzle.

“My dear, sweet Dain… did your mother never teach you any manners?”

Raphael slowly rose from his chair, balls of hellfire growing in his clenched fists as he prepared to incinerate Dain where he stood.

When Raphael turned around, he instead found Tav standing in between him and Dain. A broken ice knife stuck out of her left shoulder, the arm shredded to pieces and lying limp at her side. Gashes tore through her left cheek where the weapon had ruptured, leaving her delicate facial features nearly unrecognisable.

“You?” Raphael locked eyes with Tav, quieting the flames in his hands.

Dain gasped, his beady eyes bulging. He nearly choked on his own spit before turning to flee. Raphael snapped his fingers and the halfling froze on the spot; his fat, greedy fingers inches away from the doorknob. The fool will never see another sunrise.

“Coming by to pay me a visit, and at such a sinful hour? Why, what will your companions think?” Raphael beamed.

“Listen here, you should be grateful, otherw–” Tav stumbled, falling to her knees in discomfort. “Otherwise, there’d be a big bloody piece of ice sticking out the back of your neck.”

“You do know devils cannot die on this plane, yes? Or have you not been heedful of a single word I’ve articulated since we first met?”

Tav looked up at Raphael with wide eyes, her pointy ears turning bright red. She immediately raised her uninjured arm, tugging at an earlobe.

While traversing the mortal realm, Raphael had grown accustomed to the odd attempted murder or two. Righteous mortals seeking redemption or the amateur killers for hire accepting contracts without proper scrutiny. His least favourite, however, and the type of vermin he encountered more as of late, were the clients who tried to grovel out of their deals.

He always had a keen eye for which types of slimy creatures would try to deceive him, always the ones so quick to make a deal, any deal. He could have denied them everything, but where was the fun in that? He quite enjoyed the hunt, being kept on his toes; the thrill of the chase, exhilarating, no matter how brief, and in spite of knowing he’d always end up the victor.

“Oh hells... Guess I forgot that specific detail." Tav responded through a sheepish smile.

“And yet, you risked your life? When you could have remained hidden… were you going to stay quiet all night? You know, my door is always open.”

“That, I, uh, I can explain…”

Tav diverted her eyes. She tried to hide her obvious embarrassment as she pretended to examine her wound, shifting on her knees.

Muffled moans came from Dain’s clamped mouth at the other end of the room, but Raphael’s eyes remained drawn to Tav. A pang in his chest rose like bubbling magma, on the verge of rapture, as he observed her.

“Patience Dain, I haven’t forgotten about you.” Raphael sneered as he took a step towards Tav. She winced, clutching her arm as the ice knife began to melt.

“I suppose thanks are in order. Perhaps a reward? I will consider this an investment to our current agreement.”

“No rewards. I just had to make sure I could trust you.”

“What’s not to trust about a devil, hmm? And one as charitable as I?”

Raphael was standing over Tav now, so close he could get a whiff of her perfume over the scent of lingering blood; cloves and roses enveloped his senses, a harmonious aura. Tav cried out in pain as she fell to her side, rolling onto her back to avoid the damaged limb.

“Your deal seemed too good to be true.”

“Mhmm, but the question of why you shielded the attack still stands, little mouse.”

“I–I was worried…”

Raphael edged a little closer, hanging on her every word, his hunger growing.

“You’re… we’re allies.”

“Indeed.” Raphael whispered, leaning back. His eyes savoured Tav’s vulnerability, cataloguing every moment for a later use.

Yes, the contracts were all signed and tucked away in his archive, but Raphael knew more had to be done to fulfil his prophecy. There would be no loopholes. No hidden surprises that would get in the way of his destined glory. He would not lose the Crown a second time. He needed devout supporters, creatures willing to do anything to help him conquer the Hells. And he had Tav exactly where he wanted her.

Tav writhed in a growing blood stained puddle; the ice knife had fully dissolved, allowing the gaping wound to pour freely from her shoulder.

“As much as I enjoy watching mortals bleed to death, you are ruining the carpet.”

Raphael snapped his fingers, revealing a large health potion. It floated in the air, dangling above Tav. She struggled to rise, grabbing the bottle and flopping around the floor like a fish. He merely crossed his arms and watched, his eyebrow cocked.

After a few failed attempts, Tav finally removed the cap. She drained the potion and gasped, as if taking her very first breath. Her wounds closed in an instant, restoring her face to a more pleasing sight.

Raphael snapped his fingers again and the blood disappeared, the red velvet carpets of his suite restored. He extended a hand down to Tav and she accepted without hesitation. He let his hand linger only for a second when Tav was back on her feet, lightly caressing his thumb over the back of her palm before he released his grip.

He proceeded to turn his back to Tav, smiling to himself, as he focused his attention on Dain. He was supremely satisfied.

“What will you do with him?” Tav asked curiously.

“No concern of yours. Now, please leave us… unless you’d like to wait around, perhaps there will be another attempt at my life this evening.”

Tav stiffened and nodded, rubbing her earlobe again. She swiftly made her exit, but not without looking back at Raphael, before shutting the door. See you soon, little mouse.

“I hope you can forgive me for keeping you waiting, Dain. As you saw, I had a far more important guest to entertain.”

Raphael excitedly rubbed his hands together, circling Dain’s paralysed body like a ravenous shark.

“Soon you will be asking yourself why? Why was I so feebleminded? Why was I so impatient? Why didn’t I just listen? You're only as good as your word, Dain, and mine is exquisite. Now... shall we perhaps review your contract before the fun begins?”

Raphael snapped his fingers, removing Dain from his hold. Dain fell on his backside, shrieking as Raphael shed his mortal skin in a fiery rage.

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

93 notes · View notes