#Tav: I want to kiss him on his stupid sexy mouth
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Hi love!
Okay so we all know I love your writing, especially for Raphael.
How about a scenario where Tav is in mortal peril and Korilla is NOT around/able to bail them out. Raphael has to do it himself. Well, he doesn't "have" to, but he will.
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A/N: MY QUEEN. I will do my best. Think this is the first time I've done a Tav who is DOWN BAD (in more ways than one).
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Korilla never failed him.
It made it all the more shocking when the dwarf appeared at his side, stinking of sweat and brimstone. Her robe, ever flattering, was torn at the shoulder, and the slightly sweet, slightly sick, stink of burnt flesh filled the Devil’s Den. He reached out a hand on instinct, stabilizing her swaying form. The deal he’d been brokering fell by the wayside. A sinking feeling settled in his chest, all too familiar. His carefully laid plans might come apart at the seams. He felt invisible hands pulling at his stitches.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Korilla shook her head. “Your project…your mouse.” She winced. “Got in over her pretty head.” His warlock squeezed his wrist, “Raphael, I couldn’t…” She’d failed to protect his asset. “I kept them off her, but…”
The weight, curling, twisting; fate was determined to spite him again. And beneath that, more insidious, a second thought. Rage. Something had dared to touch her; something had maimed his pet.
The cambion bowed to his guests, lips pursed. “My associate here, lovely as she is, shall have to entertain you for a moment. Beg pardon, my dears.”
Raphael snapped his fingers.
_________
Pain blossomed through her side. Tav staggered back a step, bringing her weapon up to intercept the blow. The blade doesn’t break the skin; she managed to stop that much. The impact…she’s less fortunate. Her muscles screamed, something tearing in her shoulder.
She’d been stupid. Stupid and shortsighted…
All she’d wanted was a moment's peace. Tav had slipped from the party’s shared room at the Elfsong, determined to watch the sunset in silence. As dearly as she loved her friends, they could be loud and opinionated. After months on the road, with no privacy or distance, she figured she’d earned that much.
Bhaal’s cultists were waiting. If it’d only been a handful, she could have handled herself. It’d been more, so many more. An inane thought chased through her head as she danced out of the way of another strike: how many changelings were left in Baldur’s Gate? How many Bhaal cultists did Orin have? It seemed excessive.
Dozens. There were dozens of the damned creatures. For every cultist she killed, another three seemed to arise, like some hellish parody of the hydra. Tav was tired. One of them moved behind her, knife flashing in the dying light. Fresh pain as the blade tore through the muscles in her calf. She screamed. No, no, no, she had to keep moving. They couldn’t hobble her; she couldn’t…
“How dare you.”
She barely recognized the voice. She was aware of his heat before anything else; the cambion appeared beside her in a wash of flame, catching her attacker by the throat. Panic flashed across the changeling’s face, the briefest hint of emotion before Raphael’s claws tightened their hold. A warm spray of blood coated her face as he tore its throat free, leaving it choking through the ruin of flesh.
“Insolent creatures! You would touch what is mine?”
They tripped back, almost as one. Tav stared up at her savior, confused, vision swimming. The cambion, red, so red, fire and blood, his right-wing curled around her shoulders. Cherries and sulfur fill her nostrils, too sweet for the night air. Too soft in the face of his fury. Raphael snapped his fingers, and the air around them seemingly combusted. Hellfire consumed her would-be killers. Tendrils of shadow and flame consumed every ounce of flesh and bone, leaving nothing but a black mark on the streets.
She blinked, staring up at him. Raphael’s eyes continued to blaze, his jaw set. He dusted a nonexistent speck of dust from his sleeve, lips curling in a sneer. “Strange, I expected the god of murder to employ hardier thralls.”
Tav swallowed. Her throat burned. “Stealthy.”
“Hmm?”
She tried again, struggling to her feet. Raphael caught her elbow. Tav tried to ignore the press of his claws, itching, so full of potential, and the heat of his skin. It had to be the blood loss. His eyes glowed in the half-light. “Orin isn’t looking for hardy. They just need to be quick enough, quiet enough, to catch their victims off guard.” She frowned. “Tonight, they were.”
“Yes.” The lowness of his voice chased along her nerves like a caress. “Are you bold or stupid, pet? The city wants you dead, and here you are.” He motioned to the darkness surrounding them, the alley nearly bereft of light. "A little mouse, alone in the dark."
She scoffed. “I needed…I wanted a moment to myself. Is that too much to ask?” His gaze flicked to the scorched flagstones, brow arched. Tav shook her head. “Regardless, thank you. It…” she chewed the inside of her cheek. “Thank you. For saving me.”
“I sold myself as such, did I not? A friend and savior?”
Tav smiled. “Truth be told, I didn’t believe you.”
“And you’re more clever for it, sweetling.”
Color flared in her cheeks. He was too close for this. Too close, too sweet-smelling, too handsome, and too much. The air in her lungs felt overheated and stagnant by comparison. The blood loss, undoubtedly. Tav chewed her lower lip. “Did you…Raphael, before the…did you call me yours?”
His eyes narrowed. “Careful, pet.” It’s an answer in itself. Raphael extended his free hand to her. “Come. The devil shall return his erstwhile heroine to her companions.”
“I can make it back on my own.”
The severity of his expression left no room for argument. “No, you’ve lost the benefit of the doubt. I shall leave you safely in your bed. Not before.”
She hated the flare of heat in her belly. Raphael's hand settled at the small of her back, wings curling more closely as he whispered the incantation to return them to her room. Weak as it may be, she wrapped her arms around him.
The devil said nothing. But he bent, pressed nearer. Solid and strong, smelling of cherries and fire. Some part of her wondered what he would do if she kissed him.
Tav was saved from any potential embarrassment. Raphael left her at her bedside, bowing, smirking as if he’d followed the line of her thoughts. The damned creature took her left hand and kissed her knuckles.
And then he was gone in a swirl of fire and ash.
#raphael bg3#bg3 raphael#raphael x tav#asks#my writing#love you friend#hope you like this#raph: i'm protecting my assets#Tav: I want to kiss him on his stupid sexy mouth
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