#of the contract with raphael of course

[aladaylessecondblog]

Mother VII

Author's Note: ok brain I wrote it can I write something else now

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The little one was almost entirely his father, save for the longer ears he got from Tav, and something, Haarlep said, in the cut of the child's jaw that was distinctly from Mephistopheles.

As it turned out, familiarizing herself with the delicate dance that was dealing with Mephistopheles' fickle temper and frequent fits was extremely useful for Tav as Mordred grew bigger. For the fits that plagued his grandfather also struck him, and even at five years of age he could fly into a rage at the drop of a hat.

And Raphael, naturally, made himself scarce in such moments, saying it was best to let him just rage it out, let him assault the debtors--what did they matter?

Tav did not let these fits go, and even when the little infernal boy would burst into flames and make as if to do what his father suggested, she stopped him.

"Mordred--Mordred, I'm here."

Screaming, raging, angry flapping of wings. lashing of his tail. He was in pain, her little one, and she held him gently but firmly, until the flames died down and he lay sniffling against her shoulder.

"It's alright. You're here. I'm here. You're safe." She shushed him gently, stroked his back, and let him bury his little face in her neck.

"I-I don't like it when I do that," he hiccupped, "Mama, what if I hurt you?"

"You can't hurt me, sweetling. It's alright." She rocked him slowly until the tears had ceased. "Your father might not be here often but I always will be."

"G-grandfather says daddy's not any good at being a daddy."

"Well, he's busy conquering...reaching for things that aren't his. That is one thing about a lot of devils, Mordred. They aren't happy with what they have, they always want more, and more."

"Am I like that?"

"No, of course not." She kissed his hair. "If you got power, you would defend what was yours...but you're such a good boy. If you were an Archduke don't think you'd be as greedy as some men are."

"Then why this happen to me? Why do I go wrong?"

"Sometimes that just happens, Mordred. Your grandfather has the same problem. You remember him, don't you? The Archduke of..." She waited, prompting him to finish the sentence.

"Cania!" he said, "The cold hell!"

Mordred glommed onto the new subject, eager as always to distract himself from his fits once they were over.

She spoke to him of Cania, then turned the subject back to Avernus, and how his father was handling power.

Or not handling it, rather. The unfortunate part of marriage to Raphael meant that when he wasn't managing the Blood War to his father's expectations, she was the one called on to do something about it. It was both grating and gratifying that his father thought she had that much influence...and that it actually worked.

She could have done without Mephistopheles' hints, however, that Mordred was a "true son of the hells".

Sometimes she thought he liked the boy better than he did his own son. But his attention was fickle, and she told herself she shouldn't rely on it.

Still...

[siginari]

[potatoesandsunshine]

taryn's power... she's betrayed like eight deals with villains so far and every single villain she meets still thinks they're gonna be the exception

[shapelytimber]

Still cooking :D (Please don't spoil me ectect but I am so close to going to moonrise towers lezgooo just have to finish the Shar temple and Yugir fight-)

[COMMISSIONS]

omfg madame you are dumb as bricks fjdkkd but she's funny ! And very cute :) love her little idle animations or the fact she has a teddy bear that's so fucking endearing- Pervert ass portrait btw jfkfkd with this offering, may my lesbo friends be merciful the next time we see each other for putting Karlach so low in my ranking <3

[Astarion] - [Lae'zel] - [Wyll] - [Shadowheart] - [Karlach] - [Gale]

More yapping and sketch below vvv

I don't have her often in my party tho :/ in fact she's the one I use the less (sorry Karlach)- maybe next time around. But is it just me (once again don't spoil me please), or does she have less of an important role in the story as the others ? Maybe it'll come in act 3 idk but so far : Shadowheart has the whole Shar worshiping the artifact and memory thing ; Lae'zel had the crèche a meeting with her god queen and the Githyankis are directly linked to the Mind Flayers ; Astarion has Cazador the scars the worm enthusiasm and directly interacts with Raphael ; Gayle is a fucking bomb and fumbled the goddess of magic herself ; and Wyll has Mizora with the contract and his father getting kidnapped- what does Karlach have ? Former Zariel attack dog ? idk if we'll meet them since Mizora is way more mentioned than them and why would we go to Avernus (at least before one of her endings)- Her engine ? Yeah but that feels less connected to the story and it only involves her... Her story feels very linked to Wyll's, like with how you recruit her, the fact she knows Mizora, how choosing to spare her made Wyll a demon... and it ends up benefiting his character way more than hers- She's not even on the loading screen art fkgkfl and that's a bit sad

I am planning on doing all six main companions :) of course in order from my favorite to the one I feel most neutral about. Don't get me wrong I like them all (for now), but one had to be last-

[meanbossart]

Ok, so, I love your work (clearly as I am also a Patreon member). I have A Novel Experience open in one of my many ADHD tabs (so many tabs *sob*) and I very much want to read it. The problem that I seem to be having is that my OCD brain knows there is so much previous content (the game) that I NEED to know before I read it and I don’t know where to find that content? Or if you’ve even written it down? Is your in game journey somewhere that I haven’t noticed? Or is there just not a fully written account? If it is somewhere, I’d love to read it, please point me in the right direction!

Hey! Well, playing the game (or at least watching a walkthrough of it) and understanding the Dark Urge storyline is kind of required for ANE. You will be very lost otherwise.

Knowing every detail about DU drow's campaign, on the other hand, is absolutely not required to enjoy it - or at least I don't think it is, and I have definitely had people read through it without having prior exposure to this blog. Events are referenced with proper context, there's instances of backstory exposition, and information is fed to you (in a hopefully organic manner) throughout the course of the first few chapters. Indeed, you won't learn about every little minute occurrence or DU drow's opinions about every single person he met throughout the game - but that's what the #du drow lore tag is for and hardly ever relevant to the plot. You learn about his character THROUGH reading ANE as well as you would through browsing the asks in this blog!

BUT, If it eases yours or anyone else's conscience, here's a quick list of some significant events from the game - once again, many of these are either revealed throughout the course of the fic or entirely irrelevant (most are, I'd argue), but I guess it might be fun flavor-text all the same.

ACT 1: -He kills Lae'zel very early in the game. -he saves Mayrina. -He kills Barcus. -He kills Minthara, saves Halsin and helps the tieflings in act 1. He did not help Kagha or unravel her shadowdruid scheme. -He didn't spend the night with anyone at the tiefling party. -He did not visit the creche or go through mountain pass at all. -Astarion's romance triggered late in act 1. He first tells him about being vampire through dialogue after they had sex, and only after that did he try to bite him during a long rest. (Apparently a bug and no longer possible to pull off since patches, but this is the "canonical" order of events for DU drow's story.) -He sides with the duergar mercenaries at grymforge, kills Neere, and lets the gnomes die/remain enslaved.

Act 2: -He was supportive of Shadowheart and her DJ aspirations, though not ecstatic about it. -I got a bug where Gale kept coming onto me despite not being in a romance with him. This is also canon. -He didn't kill Isobel nor let her be kidnapped by Marcus. -He didn't save the imprisoned tieflings or gnomes. -He killed Yurgur after Astarion struck up a deal with Raphael. -He never met Araj. -He let Shadowheart make her own choice during the Nightsong's face-off and she spares her. -He didn't help Halsin cure the land and left him behind. -He recruited Jaheira. -He stomps the Astral Tadpole dead.

Act 3: -He's always antagonistic towards The Emperor. -He helps Shadowheart kill Viconia and she chooses to sacrifice her parents. -He is opposed to Gale pursuing the crown of Karsus. -He strikes up a deal with Gortash. -He convinces Wyll to break his contract AND saves his father from the Iron Throne. -He convinces Astarion to not Ascend and the Spawn are all freed and sent into the Underdark. -He saves Minsc and goes through the whole Nine-Fingers thing (clueless all throughout but hey, he likes Jaheira.) -He steals the Orphic hammer from Raphael's house. -He kills Gortash. -Yenna is the one that gets kidnapped, she dies at Orin's altar. -DU drow refuses Bhaal's gift after killing Orin, dies, and is resurrected by Withers. -He frees Orpheus and makes him turn into a Mindflayer. -Him, Shadowheart, Astarion and Gale kill the Netherbrain. -DU drow kills Orpheus. -Karlach dies at the docks. -Gale restores the crown and Ascends to Godhood (In ANE, this is a process that takes time - so he is not the God of Ambition yet in that timeline.)

Also, I completed the game prior to the Epilogue Party Patch and do not consider anything said or done in it to be canonical in ANE's timeline.

[cambion-companion]

Curled atop Raphael to thaw.

@sky-kiss put it in my head how nice it would be to use Raphael's hellish body heat to unfreeze after a cold day. Actually, she's mentioned it several times. So of course I had to make a drabble. This is the softest Raphael has been or ever will be haha

(Also remoras are the fish which attaches to larger fish to "clean" them.)

“I feel like I just trudged through the snows of Cania.”  Your teeth chattered, making it difficult to speak.  Huddled as you were by the inn’s paltry fireplace, the flames were doing very little to thaw the bone chill.

Raphael looked up from where he reclined, perusing a long scroll of parchment. His hellfire gaze swept over your shivering form, arching a brow in amusement. “I did warn you not to venture forth.  Yet you remain intrepid and stubborn as ever.”  He cleared his throat and resumed reading the contract he’d been editing since your return.

You glared over at the devil on his bed, not that he saw.  You shuffled off your heavy coat, the fabric stiff and just as frozen as the rest of you.

On numb bare feet you crossed the small room at a slight run,and hopped up next to where Raphael reclined. He gave you a look that you recognized as a sign his patience was slipping. “I don’t share my bed with little frozen mice.”

“Good thing I’m not a mouse, then.”  You snuggled close to his body, his skin the shade of ripe cherries and giving off infernal heat. “Indulge me.” You repeated the words he’d spoken to you days previous, accentuating your accent to mimic his own.

Raphael tutted and, with a tug, moved his wing away from where you rested on it. “Your body has the appeal of a corpse.  Get yourself hence ere I remove you.”

“Hurtful.”  You didn’t budge, instead pressing yourself closer and sighing as the heat radiating off him began to seep beneath your clammy skin. “Please, Raphael.”

The cambion stilled, his hand holding the parchment still outstretched to keep the fresh ink from smudging as you moved yourself as much on top of him as possible. You felt him sigh beneath you and smiled, sensing victory.

You did not expect the pressure of Raphael’s hand upon your hair, stroking once before resting against your upper back. He waited for you to stop moving, finding a comfortable position half-curled atop his torso.

“What are you willing to do in exchange for my constant lenience?”  Raphael’s breath stirred your hair.  He rested the parchment back against the top of your head and seemed to be only half interested in your reply.

In response you made sure to tuck your ice block feet against his thighs.  Raphael’s muscles twitched in response, and he gripped your waist hard in retribution. “You’re telling me you don’t enjoy this at all?”  You asked, your sense of self-preservation long since fled.

“I’m reminding you everything has a price, my dear.”  Raphael murmured. “I shall let you ruminate.  For now, be silent, I have work to do.”

You found no issue with that, feeling the rise and fall of the devil’s breath beneath your body as he warmed you.  Your eyelashes fluttered with a sudden wave of drowsiness.

Raphael’s wings curled around you both in a sort of cocoon, increasing the feeling of being thawed.  Soon you were enveloped in a haze of red and heat, every so often hearing the sound of paper rustling and the scratch of a quill.

You stretched, hooking one of your legs over the cambion’s waist and wrapped your arm around his chest.

Raphael looked down at your relaxed body, curled atop his. He smiled slightly to himself moved his long fingers through your hair. “What a soft, pliant creature you are. The errant remora seeking refuge, fully knowing it’s within the jaws of a shark.”

[bitethedevil]

The Science of Why Raphael Won’t Get Tf Out of My Head

It’s your local doctor in cambion physiology here. I’m going to take you through my theory about why Raphael is stuck in our heads. It’s all based on Science™, of course. Some of these carefully studied theories are dependent on the fact that you are the owner of a uterus. If you aren’t, then idk. I can’t help you. You’re a medical anomaly. It’ll all make sense in a moment, don’t worry about it.

There are a couple of things that I believe are necessary for prolonged focus on a specific character (Source: The Devil, Bite. 2024: Pulled it out of my ass):

Attraction: It helps if said character is hot.

Versatility: I’ll explain later.

A feeling of being able to relate to said character

Attraction

There’s this theory about how women’s attraction to men changes in accordance with their menstrual cycles (source and source). Basically the study says that when a woman is at her most fertile, she prefers more traditionally masculine looking men. However, the rest of her cycle she might prefer men who lean more towards the feminine (both in general qualities and physical attributes).

The whole point of this, is that at ones most fertile, it’s full on monkey brain genetics going “he looks strong and male, so he’ll make good offspring”, while for the rest of the time, it’s more attractive to find someone who actually has good partnership potential. Someone who is reliable and caretaking, and who would be stable in a longer relationship.

I suppose you could sum it up to one being a more romantic attraction while the other is more of a primal and carnal attraction.

Now I want you too look at this very educational graph that I used a couple of minutes to slap together:

Basically, my argument is that though Raphael is not stable or caretaking in any form, the difference between the two forms still visually fits into the two respective categories. His human form for the rest of the cycle, and his cambion form (the ascended form too if you’re freaky, I guess) that seems more traditionally masculine when fertility is highest.

That means that you can look at his dumb face throughout your whole cycle, but might feel a shift in which one you find more attractive (if all this science stuff is correct).

Even if the science behind all of this is bullshit, I still believe that different forms help when it comes to not getting tired of looking at someone.

Versatility

I’m just going to say it, even though my heart might disagree: Raphael would not have the effect he has if he was a more explored character with more screentime in canon. We would all love more Raphael, but I really think the reason for his longevity in our minds is that he is still somewhat mysterious.

Which parts are actually him and which parts are performance? What is he like behind closed doors? How much devil and how much man is he? We don’t really know. We have been given puzzle pieces, but there’s still a loooot of space free for interpretation, which is honestly what makes him great.

It’s been said before in this little corner of the internet: there are so many versions of Raphael, and the great thing is that people are never fighting over which Raphael is the “right” one. Some prefer Soft!Raphael, while others prefer Dark!Raphael. The versatility of his character’s representation allows for that, which I know at least has kept me interested for a long time when it comes to writing him.

Being able to relate

In much the same vein as above, people find different ways to relate to him. The thing on top of that is the feeling that we shouldn’t be able to relate to someone like him, which adds a certain level of taboo to it which is interesting.

He is both the smoothest mf alive and the biggest cringefail loser behind closed doors. He’s obsessive, weird, and too fucking much to be near for a longer period of time. He writes his contracts as songs because he likes ‘whimsy’. He’s got daddy issues and makes that everyone’s problem. There’s a lot to him that someone would at least be able to relate to at some level.

In conclusion

He is without a doubt the character I have hyperfixated on for the longest time, and I know it’s the same for a few others. I genuinely believe it’s because there is so much to him. If you get tired of one aspect of him, there are always other aspects of him to focus on, both physically and psychologically, instead.

And there is some variation to the attraction that I atleast can feel myself. If I have written a lot of darker stuff about him for a while, I get the urge to write something softer, and the cool thing is that you can do that and it still makes sense with the character. My preference for his forms vary often too.

Even when I tried to focus on other characters, I found myself returning to Raphael, because those other characters were often too fleshed out canon-wise. It quickly bores me because then there is a limit to what you can do with them.

There is a lot to Raphael and he’s like a glob of clay. You can mold him into whatever you like.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Daughters

Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

Haarlep x F!Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary: Two separate little stories for Raphael & Haarlep being parents!!

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: Purely self indulgent!! I just really love the thought of them both being parents okay! Especially Haarlep!!! I brought back Impsy from a previous story as well for Haarlep’s story!! Enjoy xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ Parenthood | Dadphael | Fluff | Haarlep As A Parent ♡

Prt 2. - Prt 3.

Raphael

Raphael tended to his duties amidst the solemn quietude of his archive. Engrossed in the scrutiny of a newly inked contract, the rustle of hurried steps reached his ears. With a practiced motion, and without a glance away from his script, he caught hold of his daughter's tail as she attempted to dart past.

The abrupt interruption of her sprint sent her tumbling, "gah!"

"Pray tell, to what urgent destination are you racing?" Raphael inquired, his attention steadfast upon the curling letters of the contract.

"Nooowhere..." came the sheepish, drawn-out reply.

Raphael's voice, still calm and measured, carried a note of paternal admonishment, "Venture not too far, and refrain from such reckless haste within the archive. These relics are delicate, their histories irreplaceable.”

The little devil, a mischievous glint in her eyes, nodded slowly, her tail now still in her father's firm but gentle grasp. With a reluctant sigh, she straightened up, her posture mimicking the elegance she so often saw in her father.

"Sorry, father," she said, her voice a mix of feigned contrition and lingering excitement. "I'll be more careful. But, um, can I ask you something?"

Raphael finally lifted his gaze, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that belied his calm exterior. "Of course, child. You know you may always speak freely."

She shuffled her feet, the earlier urgency replaced with a sudden shyness. "Yoooou are going to meet with a client later, and I... I was wondering if maybe I could watch? I promise I'll be silent and still as a statue!"

A small, knowing smile crept onto Raphael's lips. "A client, you say? Very well. You may observe, but under two conditions: You shall not interrupt, and you shall learn. There is much to be gained from understanding the art of negotiation and the binding of contracts."

Her face lit up, a beaming smile cutting through her attempts at decorum. "Yes, father! Thank you! I'll be the best statue you've ever seen!"

Raphael released her tail, and with a gentle push, he encouraged her toward the door. "Go then, prepare yourself. But remember, should you break your promise, there will be consequences. We are, after all, a family of our word."

The Apple of his eyes nodded vigorously before darting off, this time with a skip rather than a sprint, her excitement barely contained as she vanished from the archive.

Raphael's eyes returned to the contract before him, the smile lingering a moment longer before the mask of the composed dealmaker settled back into place. He placed it down on the table so he could focus on you, the mother of his heir who slept soundly at his side on the opulent sofa, your head resting upon his lap as he stroked your head. His gaze shifted to the crown of karsus, the brown irises tracking its form, “A family of our word, indeed."

Haarlep

The day arrived when the cries of a newborn half demon echoed through the halls. Haarlep approached the cradle, where a tiny creature with horns just sprouting from its head and a mischievous glint in its eyes lay. The tiny creature a perfect mix of you both. The incubus's heart, though not often given to warmth, swelled a tad with a strange pride.

"Ah, my little impling," Haarlep mused aloud, a smirk playing across their lips. "How I long to see the chaos you'll unleash."

It didn’t take long, Haarlep could barely believe their child was growing so fast…

"Come now, offspring," Haarlep spoke with a softness no one would believe they possessed. The incubus opened the curtains to your room, the moon casting down upon the city, "You see this world? It's yours to play with, to bend and to shape. I will teach you the art of emotional manipulation, to dance with the hearts of mortals as one plays the lyre." The child clung to their parents leg, its tiny tail giving an excited twitch, Haarlep could only grin.

“Haarlep~” You sung their name, catching your lovers attention.

“Hm?”

You crossed your arms, your infamous imp, Impsy, standing next you, doing the same with an arched brow. A subtle smile crossing your features, “…She’s 3…”

“You are just no fun, are you?”

As the child grew, it became clear that she was indeed Haarlep's progeny, causing minor chaos with a mere giggle, and using her innate powers to toy with the emotions of those around her. But Haarlep's teachings were not yet complete.

"One must never be alone, my little tyrant," Haarlep instructed one evening. "Tonight, you will summon Impsy. A loyal playmate for all your days."

Their child, eager and wide-eyed, nodded and began to chant under Haarlep's careful guidance. The air shimmered, and with a pop, a small imp appeared, its face unamused with its little foot tapping on the ground.

"Hells…” Impsy held the bridge of its nose, “I can’t believe there’s two of you now.” The imp shook its head, “But I mean look at her!“ Impsy’s eyes sparkled wide as it walked up to the tiny little halfbreed, pinching her cheek, “Awh she looks perfect as always! Let’s thank the gods for Tavy’s good genes-“ Impsy smirked at Haarlep, “would’ve been a shame if she got your looks!”

Haarlep watched, a proud smirk etched on their face, as their child and Impsy ran off to pull their first prank together. The bond between them was immediate since her birth, and the imp proved to be a fitting companion for the young thing.

Time passed, and the little half demon grew bolder, often attempting to slip away to explore or cause mischief beyond Haarlep's or your watchful eye. On one such occasion, the child tried to race out of the room, her tiny tail swishing excitedly behind her. With a swift movement, Haarlep's foot came down upon the tail, causing the little demon to tumble onto her rump.

"And where do you think you're going?" Haarlep asked, his tone playful yet stern, the smirk on his face belying his true delight in the little one's antics.

The child pouted, looking up at her father with a mix of annoyance and admiration.

"To explore, to play!" She exclaimed, her eyes shining with the promise of trouble.

Haarlep chuckled, lifting their foot. "Tut, tut. Patience my little one." Haarlep’s mind reflects back to when they were gifted to Mephistopheles… Then Raphael… The incubus’s features twisting at the memories. They wouldn’t allow such a fate for their offspring, “I shall join you, we’ll play a little game! Together! In the city with all those fools.”

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

dark/cunty raphael, devils being devils (this has been done to death but i just wanted to write him being awful) once again thank you @pouralaura for your advice and encouragement you are the best

Read on AO3

-

He wasn't supposed to be back yet.

He wasn't supposed to be back yet.

Tav panicked. Wide eyed, she pleaded with Hope's flickering apparition. “Are you sure?” She hissed. “Are you sure he's back?”

“YesyesYES can't you feel it?! He's home, the master is home and he brings blood and pain and death!” Hope shrieked. “I have to go, you have to go, we all have to go!”

“No, Hope, wait! I need your help!”

“I can't help you anymore,” the poor crazed thing said, coherent for this moment just to fix Tav with a sad, pitying look. “Just like you can't help me anymore. But thanks for trying. I'll remember it forever. He's going to hurt you and he's going to kill you and I'm sorry.”

Her phantom faded into nothing and Tav was left alone in the claustrophobic halls. Maybe she tripped a hidden alarm or ward. Maybe she simply took too long. All she knew was that, if Hope was right, she'd squandered likely the only chance she had of sneaking into Raphael's home and taking the hammer. And Hope was definitely right. Tav felt it. A change to the air. The wailing of souls muted, exhalated. 

He was here.

The plan had been very simple: her friends distract Raphael by pretending to consider and discuss his contract “behind her back”, and she heads to the diabolist to get a portal open, go in, steal the hammer, and leave. It was much easier to sneak a single person through, and Raphael would've been none the wiser. Only, she wasn't prepared enough for the House of Hope. She wasn't prepared for its namesake. She wasn't prepared for Raphael's dark, dirty secrets parading in her face. 

Gale called her ludicrous. Mad. Idiotic. And yet when she pressed him for a better option, for a way to keep the crown and save Orpheus from the Emperor's vile clutches, he came up empty. They were stretched thin, resources and resilience at their breaking points.

“Let it be me, then,” he'd said. “Let it be me who gets the hammer.”

“I'm a better sneak than you,” Tav had argued. She was willing to take the risk for him. So he could be free of Mystra, free of the orb. Free. He knew. He'd pressed their foreheads together, holding her close.

“Come back to me,” he'd whispered. “Promise you'll come back.”

Tav might not be able to deliver the hammer, but she could still escape. All she had to do was hide, and sneak back to her portal before Raphael found her. The house was so big, like a damn maze. Tav tried to remember where she'd come from, where she'd left her portal, but the gaudy halls and creepy gilded statues all looked the same. She thought she recognised the dining room from when he'd first brought her here so long ago, taunting her with the offer of aid. The table was covered in rotten food. Mutilated skeletons filled the seats. Shaken, Tav moved on.

Shit.

She caught sight of Raphael prowling the corridors outside, his expression stormy. He was still in his human guise, but his hellish fury bubbled just barely beneath the surface. Swallowing a sharp inhale before it gave her away, Tav tucked herself behind a pillar and prayed he hadn’t seen her.

“I know you're here, little mouse,” he rumbled, burning brown eyes scanning every nook and cranny. Tav bit her lip. Her stomach dropped. He exuded overwhelming diabolical power. Tav knew she stood no chance against him alone. “You must think me a dullard. Your friends show up at the Devil's Den without you, interested in a contract of all things when they were so staunchly against me before, and then I feel my wards breached telling me there is an intruder scurrying about my home…why, such coincidental timing. I wonder, who could be creeping around? What could they be looking for?”

In hindsight, the plan was never going to work. Of course he had wards everywhere. Of course he was too clever for their ruse. But they were desperate. Just as the devil promised they would be, by the end. Just the way he wanted them. All hope wasn't yet lost. If she could only escape…

“Did you think you could fool me? That any hair-brained schemes concocted in your simple, tadpole-addled minds would succeed? It's almost amusing, were it not so outrageous.” Raphael ranted. So verbose even in his anger. And yet, Tav could hear his liquid smile in the words he purred next. “How about this? For old times’ sake, for my most cherished client who never was… If you show yourself now and beg me well enough, I might make your death quick. But the longer you hide, the longer it takes for me to find you - and I will find you - the longer I'll spend peeling your pretty skin from your flesh.”

The devil was striding away, deeper into his house. Tav snatched the opportunity to dart out into the foyer. She remembered now, those big metal doors. Where Hope had first been waiting. Tav’s portal was behind them. Poor Hope. Rejuvenated by relief, Tav vowed to find a way to save her. Even if she had to storm the house again, with her team this time, and swing the cudgel of justice down on Raphael’s head. Smash his dirty devil brains out. She’d relish doing so. The doors were ajar. Tav slipped through. She could practically taste her safety. The grungy corrupted streets of Baldur’s Gate had never been so welcoming…

Except there was no portal.

For a moment she simply stood there in disbelief. Denial. A scorched circle on the marble floor was the lone indicator that a portal had ever existed in the first place. A taunting shadow. As she stared at nothing, the damned souls forever trapped - just like her - seemed to laugh. 

Despair. The likes of which Tav hadn’t felt since she awoke on the beach and realised everything that happened on the nautiloid wasn’t a bad dream. It crawled up her throat and threatened to make her scream. She stuffed the meat of her hand in her mouth and bit down. The pain grounded her. Panic wouldn’t help. There had to be other portals. Ones Raphael or his cronies used to get about in the material plane. She’d jump through one of them. It didn’t matter where she ended up; it would be easy enough to get back to Baldur’s Gate. She crept out into the halls again. A flash of red in the corner of her eye catapulted her into motion. She’d never been more aware of the noise her boots made, how heavy her footsteps were, how loud each panting breath was. She ran, crawled behind a big statue, and made herself as small as possible. 

“Come out, little mouse,” the devil crooned sweet poison from somewhere, his voice drifting through the empty spaces of his home, echoing off the walls and floors, impossible to ignore. “Come out come out, wherever you are…”

Fear bubbled in Tav’s churning  gut. Her heart pounded against her ribs in protest. In her ever-shrinking world of mind flayers, crazed cultists, monsters and apostles and madness, Raphael had been but a blip on her threat radar. She hadn’t given him much concern, or consideration. A mistake. One she might not live to rectify.

I’m sorry, Gale…

“It was bold of you to come here alone, you know. Bold, but so very foolish. I suppose you got the idea in your worm-eaten skull that you were faster than your companions. Stealthier. Or was it they who convinced you?” Raphael’s tone twisted, honed into a dagger aiming at a specific target. A soft target. “I wonder, did they do it because they really thought you might succeed? Or because they knew you wouldn’t? A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, after all…”

Tav chewed the inside of her cheek. Raphael, she’d learned, was very good at hurting people without even raising a finger. Words were weapons for him as much as his claws or infernal magics. She wouldn’t let him bait her.

Peering out of her spot, the coast was clear enough for Tav to risk moving. She thought about it. The devil was quiet, had been for a little while, either out of things to say - unlikely - or finally far away enough that she could no longer hear him. After another few moments of hesitation, Tav took the chance, flitting down an empty corridor. Prayed the next room she entered would hold something useful. 

She never made it.

As she rounded a corner, a hand shot out and snatched her by the hair. Thick fingers dug into her scalp, yanked her so harshly a joint in her neck popped. 

“Got you,” the devil snarled, right into her ear. Tav shrieked, instinctively scratching at Raphael’s hand. All it seemed to do was incense him further. 

“Let go of me!” She yelled.

“Oh, how the mouse squirms when it’s been caught,” Raphael intoned, low, almost sensual were it not for the bite of murder lingering in the depths. He manipulated her to look at him, so she could see the contempt and loathing on his handsome face. “But you aren’t a mouse, are you? No. You’re a rat. Just like your little friends.”

“Did you hurt them?!” The pain of her hair being pulled at the roots made tears bead at the corners of Tav’s eyes. She fought to regain her footing. Glared at Raphael anyway.

“And what would you do if I had?” The devil jeered. He released her hair, only to close his fist around her throat instead. “No, no. Despite your collective stupidity, someone still needs to clean up the mess that is the netherbrain. Although I don’t imagine they have much chance of success after this…” Raphael squeezed her throat harder. Claws dug pinpricks into her skin as he let his rage change him, shed his human disguise. He shook her, easily lifting her from the ground so her legs dangled, black and orange eyes ferocious. “You had every opportunity to accept my deal. It was fair. The hammer for the crown. An artefact you cannot even hope to use or understand, for the only chance you had to free yourself from the Emperor. To free Orpheus. And yet you’ve chosen to spit in my face despite my patience, my clemency. Why?” 

Tav gagged, struggled to speak around her crushing windpipe. Black spots began to dance at the edges of her vision. The devil loosened his grip enough so she could answer. His pride demanded it. “You…the crown should…go to Mystra. For Gale. He spoke to her. She said…said she could fix him, get rid of the orb if…if he…the crown…” Tav broke off, coughing, choking, gasping for air. Her tears finally spilled over, dripping down her cheeks.

“You’ve done this for Gale?” Raphael seethed with peculiar jealousy. He dropped her, watched her stumble. Then he laughed; a cruel, sharp sound that went on for too long. “If you truly believe your precious wizard intends to return the crown to his cantankerous trollop ex-lover instead of using it for himself, then you are more naive and gullible than I ever imagined.”

Tav scowled, rubbing her neck. “He promised,” she rasped. “He…”

“He promised,” the devil mocked. “Oh yes, I’m sure he did. I’m sure he meant it.”

“He wouldn’t lie! He’s never lied to me!”

Raphael tilted his horn-crowned head. Stared at her like she was an idiot. “Hasn’t he?” 

Just like before, Raphael was aiming for her soft spots - but this time, this one, was already bruised. He was right. Gale had lied. About the orb, about his feelings for Mystra, even about abandoning his desire to ascend. The first thing he’d done when he learned the true nature of the crown was consider how he could take advantage of it. Not the behaviour of a man changed. But Tav had faith in him. Believed in him. Her niggling doubts meant nothing. 

“No.” She said in defiance. Ignored the way her weak voice wobbled. “You’re just trying to poison me against him. You don’t understand anything.”

“Don’t I?” Raphael crooned, viciously amused. “I think it’s you who doesn't understand. Let me put it this way, so that even you can comprehend: why would a power-hungry magelet with a chip on his shoulder abandon decades of ambition for some little bint he found on the roadside, when he could have hundreds – thousands of warm and willing holes to wet his cock with if he becomes a so-called god? Do you think you’re worth that sacrifice? Does Gale think you are? I’m sure he says lots of sweet things when he’s inside you, just as I’m sure he said the same things to Mystra, and we all know how that worked out…”

“Stop,” Tav begged. Sobbed. 

“No,” the devil sneered. Utterly merciless. “It’s high time you faced the reality of your actions. You have doomed a future for the githyanki free from tyranny, you have doomed your friends’ chance to escape the emperor’s machinations, and you have doomed yourself, sweet pet, to reap what you sow – all for the sake of a man who rolled over you because you were the first woman in years to say yes. You wanted to enter my house without permission? Fine. Then you’ll stay for eternity.”

She recoiled in horror, the implication making her blood run cold. She’d rather he killed her and he knew it. “You can’t keep me here!”

“I think you’ll find I can, girl,” Raphael said, malicious, quiet. His gaze flayed her alive, peeled away layers of skin and muscle to stare at her very soul. “For in this house, in this pocket of Hell, I am the master, and that means I can do whatever I want.”

A sick, bitter pill to swallow: he was right.

“Fine!” Tav laughed maniacally, the futility of the situation driving her to reckless anger. “Fine, you evil bastard! I suppose you’ll have a pet squid soon, then. Have you always wanted one of those? Was it a boyhood dream, if you were a boy once? I hear ink stains are a bitch to get out of silk rugs.” As soon as she said it, Tav wished she had kept her mouth shut. She’d done everything wrong since entering that portal. Everything. Raphael’s shrewd hellish eyes narrowed as he considered something. Tav watched him raise his fingers, ready to snap, with dawning horror; if he did this, she wouldn’t just be stuck with him forever. She would owe him forever. A fate so much worse. “No! Wait! You don’t – I’m sure I won’t transform! It’s different in Hell, right?!” 

“I’d rather not take the chance,” Raphael murmured, enjoying this moment of despair. “I’m not too fond of tentacles, you see. And besides…I promised I could be your saviour, didn’t I? Even though you hardly deserve it, I'm nothing if not magnanimous, after all.”

CLICK. 

Such a small sound heralding a monumental, irreversible change.

Agony. The likes of which Tav couldn’t comprehend. Her skull splitting apart, bursting from the inside, her brains chewed up and spat out, eyes and teeth and tongue destroyed, sinuses burning…it only lasted for a few brief seconds, maybe, but the next thing she knew she was on her hands and knees. Frothy blood and bile oozed from her nose and mouth. Her body shook violently. Her head felt like it was full of water. She wasn’t sure, but she might have pissed herself a little bit. She stared up at the devil through bleary wet eyes and saw him watching her. Savouring her suffering. Floating in his palm was her tadpole, sluggish and covered in gore. Covered in her brains. 

“Hmmm…I suppose I could have used less force for the extraction,” Raphael mused, unapologetic. He squinted at the ugly cosmic horror larva with disdain. “I was led to believe these things were near-impossible to remove. Clearly not. Such weak magic. That worthless boy still has a lot to learn.” He curled his fingers inward and the tadpole caught fire, writhing and screaming as it died. Rendered to ash. Then he smiled at Tav, placid, almost business-like, as if he hadn’t just up-ended her entire existence. Her suffering had greatly improved his mood. “There we are. Now you won’t have to worry about those lovely guts of yours dissolving any time soon. Not before I get to sample them, at least.”

“I’d rather be a mind flayer,” Tav slurred quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt hollow. Without that tadpole – as awful as it had been – she couldn’t reach her friends or even the emperor to beg for help. She knew they were pragmatic. They would stick to the plan, even Gale. They’d realise something went wrong and cut their losses. Poor Orpheus. She’d known the risk, being the one breaking in. Made certain they wouldn’t risk storming this infernal psycho’s little castle to rescue her, not when the elder brain was so unstable and they were so close to vanquishing the Absolute cult, but at least pretending it was an option would’ve given her something to hold onto. 

“And ruin that delightful complexion of yours? Perish the thought.” The devil reached to wrap one big paw around her forearm and tugged her upright. Tav was too weak to pull away. She barely stayed on her feet. The room and everything in it swayed. Until it was forced to stop by his hot clawed hand holding her jaw firm. Raphael’s image swam into focus. He gently turned her head this way and that. He was examining her; examining his new property. His new trophy. “Can’t fault the magelet’s taste. You are a pretty little thing. And now you’re my pretty little thing.”

He pushed his thumb into her mouth. She could taste the sulphur and hellish magic even over the copper sticking to her gums and teeth. She bit him, tried to, but Raphael wasn’t phased. He dug his thumb claw into her tongue instead, pressing until he pierced the muscle, until Tav cried out. Fresh blood welled from the small puncture wound.

“Behave,” the devil simply said, like he was talking to a naughty puppy. 

“Never,” Tav spat. Raphael seemed to like that answer, if the sparkle in his eyes and his rich chuckle were any indication. 

“Oh, you’ll learn, my little pet. One way or the other.” He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, smearing blood and spit across her lips. His pupils expanded as he looked upon her. He found this arousing, Tav realised, more repulsed than she’d ever been in her life. 

“You make me sick,” she hissed. 

“You have no idea just how sick I could truly make you,” he purred around a sinister smile, “but we have all the time in the world for that, don’t we? Thanks to you, I’ve got a lot more work to do now. Plans to tweak, contingencies to set up, that sort of thing. I don’t expect you to understand, but unfortunately it means I won’t be able to break you in quite yet. But fret not, you shan’t be alone. Haarlep can keep an eye on you until I return.”

Tav didn’t get the chance to ask what a Haarlep was. Raphael displaced them both into the boudoir. So sudden, and she was still so unsteady. She’d have fallen on her face if Raphael wasn’t holding her. Instead she leaned on him until her vision stopped spinning. He chuckled cruelly. 

“Not to worry, love. I’ve got you.”

Tav yanked herself free – he let her go this time – and staggered away from him, collapsing onto the big bed nearby. She wasn’t the only one sprawled on those red silk sheets; a creature that looked like Raphael but softer, younger, and dressed much skimpier, lounged. He perked up with interest, peering at her. Two of them…Tav truly was in Hell.

“What’s this?” The lookalike asked in a perfect, if airy, imitation of Raphael’s voice. 

“A new pet. Clean her up. And don’t do anything else or you’ll be skinned and hung out to dry like Nubaldin. I mean it, Haarlep.” 

Another click of those devilish fingers and Raphael was gone. Haarlep crawled across the bed like a huge, nasty cat, eyeing Tav up and down.

“Hmm…not quite breeding stock, but I suppose you’ll do.” He pawed at her. “Come on, then. Get up.”

“Take your hands off me!” Tav cringed away, drooling pinkish red froth. “I’ll kill you, I swear it.”

Haarlep tutted, amused. “You couldn’t kill a mouse right now, little pet. And I don’t need your compliance to get you off this bed. There are many ways, and I can’t promise you’ll enjoy all of them…”

The suggestion in his voice made Tav grit her bloodied teeth. Her skin crawled. “You’re just as twisted as Raphael, aren’t you?”

Haarlep cackled. “Oh no, sweet thing. I’m much worse.”

Tav ended up in the luxurious bathing pool, only after Haarlep callously pulled her clothes and armour off, telling her she should get used to it because the concept of her privacy no longer existed. The steaming water seemed to heal her physical injuries, easing the savage pain in her skull, but that simply meant she had more cognizance to think about how awful her situation really was. Her attempt at drowning herself was thwarted by a heavy clawed hand pulling her head out of the water by her hair. They seemed to like doing that, these fiends.

“Now, now. Don’t make me charm you,” Haarlep chided as Tav coughed and sputtered. “As funny as it would be for my brat to come back to a floating corpse, he obviously doesn’t want you dead yet, and I’d rather not be flayed. It’s not as erotic as those priests of pain make it out to be, trust me.”

“Fuck you,” Tav spat, digging her nails into Haarlep’s hand. He didn’t seem to feel it. Just like his master. A fly biting a dragon.

“In due time, lovely. In due time. Now…do you prefer red or gold?”

Like an overzealous child with a new doll, Haarlep stuffed Tav into a gold silken house robe – sheer, reaching just above her knees, thin enough that her nipples were easy to see. By this point she was despondent, allowing him to pull her this way and that. When he deemed her “good enough” he grew bored of her and went back to lounging on the bed. Tav wandered the boudoir aimlessly, not really seeing anything, until she found herself on a balcony overlooking the destitute landscape of Avernus from a great height. The House of Hope must be floating somewhere, she thought absently. Isolated even in Hell. If she jumped, Tav wondered how long she’d be falling before she hit the ground and what kind of mess she’d leave behind.

“Don’t even think about it,” Haarlep cheerfully called to her. 

Tav slid to the ground, buried her face in her knees, and wept. 

-

Time passed differently, strangely, in Hell. Tav existed in a fugue state of misery, unable to be sure. Days, weeks, months could have passed since she failed to steal from Raphael; since Raphael stole her. Almost all of it had been spent in the boudoir, an incubus and cambion her keepers both. 

She sat on the balcony when Raphael came to her, as she often did. Passing the minutes, hours, staring out at Avernus. The devil had been away for a while. He smelled of fresh air, of the material plane, taunting her with what she’d never experience again. He seemed strangely pleased despite all his plans going awry. “I thought you might like to know that your friends destroyed the brain,” he told her as he poured himself some wine. “Baldur’s Gate – and Faerun as a whole, is saved.”

At least that was a relief. 

“And you should also know that Gale decided to use the crown of Karsus to ascend. I believe he is now calling himself the god of ambition…how very droll.” Although Tav had come to accept this was a likely outcome, the information still sank like a rock in her stomach; of course, the devil wasn’t done. “I had thought he might come knocking at my door, threatening to smite me should I not release your soul, but…it seems your darling has forgotten about you, pet. Much more interesting things to do now that he’s reached the Heavens, I would imagine.”

Tav bit her tongue. Hope truly came to these cursed halls to die. Snuffed out before it had a chance to unfurl, but she wouldn’t give this wretch the satisfaction of knowing she was upset. 

“So…what are you going to do, then? The crown is completely out of your reach.” She thought that would sting him. An acknowledgement of his own failure. Of a dream ruined. If he lashed out, all the better, because she’d know she’d got under his skin. Small (miniscule) victories. 

“Hmm…for now,” he hummed. He swirled the wine in his goblet as he spoke. “You see, I came to quite an interesting realisation. Had you honoured the deal, I could have taken the crown and ascended to Archdevil Supreme. Yes, I could have conquered the Hells and perhaps moved on to other realms to unite under my power, but there would have always been a place I simply couldn’t reach.”

“The heavens…” Tav breathed in slow, horrifying realisation. Raphael smiled widely, dark eyes glittering. 

“Yes, very good. Right where your little godlet is now. The very place he will eventually destroy. Just like Karsus, Gale Dekarios’ hubris will ruin him. Unlike Karsus, Gale will bring the heavens down with him, and when he does, who shall be there to gleefully sift through the ashes but I? You see, I will get the crown, my dear, sweet pet. All I have to do is wait.” He reached forward, tucking a lock of Tav’s hair behind her ear. His touch deceptively tender. Like a lover. “I should thank you, in fact. If you hadn’t broken into my home, it’s likely you would have convinced Gale to give the crown to Mystra, and then it truly would have been beyond my grasp. But without your voice of reason and support, well…old habits die hard, don’t they? I must say, I’m looking forward to the day the heavens crumble. The collapse of Karsus’ empire was breathtaking, but this…oh, this will be something else entirely. And don’t worry, pet. Whether it happens in one hundred years or one thousand, I’ll make sure you’re there to see it, too.”

[durgetavoc]

Yes I really want to know the horrors of the shit bucket. I’m quite surprised that he isn’t obsessed with cleanliness. He always struck me as the type but then again… I guess I’m wrong.

Oh god, here we go then.

SPOILERS FOR THE HOUSE OF HOPE

(CW for...The Shit Bucket Guy, obviously)

So, if we ever decide to go steal the Orphic Hammer, we can go visit The House of Hope, there, we obviously find Raphael's collection of artifacts, his eternal debtors, and one of them is… This guy.

You should know that all eternal debtors are condemned to a certain task/action. It's difficult to know if this has anything to do with their contract with Raphael, if it is a distortion of an already existing trait of their personality (for example, the Perfect Eternal Debtor, the Theologist Eternal Debtor or even the Voyeur Eternal Debtor) or if it's a way to completely dehumanize them (Loyal Eternal Debtor…My beloved :( ). It seems to be a mix of everything, that wouldn't be surprising if Raphael did what seemed most entertaining to him.

But let's focus on the Shit Bucket Guy, since he's the one that interested us today.

As our affectionate nickname for him indicates, we find him in front of a chamber pot with a visible green odorous cloud above it, which confirms us that it has been used (when you interact with the pot, here what the game says : "An overpowering stench singes your nostrils. Nothing good happened here."). The debtor doesn't appreciate us getting closer to it, and if we ask him if he is its guardian, this is what he answers:

His "name" in the game is "Unclean Eternal Debtor" and if you're taking a look at his face... Yeah, I guess he's not just guarding the pot. When we observe the animation of the character, he walks around the pot, makes a hand gesture to smell it, and that's it.

It has become a running joke in the fandom, particularly for us, little mouses. Those who have been to the House of Hope know about the Shit Bucket Guy... But nobody talks about him.

(Yeah I couldn't help it.)

It's not really surprising, the presence of the chamber pot, and not just any one, RAPHAEL'S, raises other questions. One might wonder if it's not a little OOC coming from someone like him.

Let's take advantage of this question to dig... A little deeper.

Here's, imo of course, why it's somehow relevant to show Raphael's chamber pot and what this tells us about him.

Shall we?

1. Don't be fooled by appearances, he POOPS like us!

Raphael. Raphael. Raphael who embodies sophistication, intellect and danger... Alluring and at the same time fearsome, a fascinating mix. Goddamnit, he's a suave motherfucker, and he fucking knows it.

In video games, it's part of the suspension of disbelief to not talk/show toilet, unless you're in a life simulation game like sims. It's not just taboo since it's one of the most private aspects of our life, but it's also... Not relevant to the intrigue most of the time.

Showing us something that intimate about him disintegrate his mysterious aura. We learnt that Raphaels shits. Yeah, absolutely astonishing. Reminding us that he's exactly at the same level as us. Like the title said, despite his charming manners, his eloquence, his theatrical gestures... He's still human, hells, part human.

2. In the Devil's house.

The first time we meet Raphael, he wastes no time in bringing us to his home, on his own terms. We only see one room, and this is what we see:

Luxurious place, lavish displays of food, ordered furniture... Promising, right? This is how Raphael wants to give as a first impression. I think this scene is perfect as a metaphor. Remember what Gale said? He's taking us to dinner! Like a date, he wants to impress us, seduce us.

But when we're back to this place during our improvised visit, what do we see?

Rotten food. Blood. Skeletons. Mess. Remind me of my room before I have to rush to clean everything because a friend comes over.

By choosing to enter Raphael's home, into his privacy, the game takes us on a tour of his home: we discover what is hidden behind Raphael's character. It is of course expected that we discover his secrets and/or aspects of his personality that he would not wish to reveal, at least not before we make a deal with him.

Haarlep, his incubus, also participates in this demystification. Through them, we can learn about Raphael's sexuality (I'll be quick on this since @bitethedevil did some really good analysis posts about it):

Raphael is only attracted to himself (hence Haarlep's appearance)

He is a bottom pillow prince

And he doesn't last in bed (a valuable information that can be used to anger Raphael later)

Once again, this is another very intimate aspect that is revealed to us. I'm sorry to say it, but Haarlep basically plays the same role as the chamber pot to accentuate the intimacy of the place and also to ridicule Raphael, thus revealing to us what he really is.

3. Raphael hates his father.

Our favorite cambion is having daddy issues, and the chamber pot seems like a nice response to the statue his dad gave him. It's a "blink and you'll miss it" kind of detail, but it's funny to point it out. Show don't tell as it's finest.

4. How bad it is to sell your soul to Raphael.

This one is easy... The Shit Bucket Guy is an example of Raphael's cruelty : "This is what could happen to you if you make a contract with Raphael."

Sure, it's funny because the whole thing is ridiculous: "Guardian of his chamber pot? Seriously?", but it's hard to really laugh at it if you take into account the other eternal debtors. The whole place is designed to make you uncomfortable, because it's not treated as a joke. They had a life, had to ask Raphael for help, and are now reduced to doing something degrading until the end of time. They don't even have a name anymore. They could be your Tav/Durge or your companions...

Suddenly, the temptation to make a contract with Raphael is less appealing after seeing all this, isn't it?

Conclusion : Now the question that burns our lips : What could this guy have done to him to be reduced to this? And why?

My first instinct when I met this character was to think, "oh boy, you must have really pissed off Raphael..." let's be honest, it's the kind of torture you could imagine to your worst enemy or at least a very annoying one.

It could be that, or maybe, mayyybe...

Remember Mephistopheles' statue?

What if Raphael was SO annoyed by this gift that he woke up one day thinking "fuck my dad, fuck his gift" and decided to literally shit on him by putting a chamber pot in front of this statue to express his thanks. And just like any narcissist/paranoid guy, he named a "guard" to be sure no one would spy on him through this (it sounds delirious, but again, we learn that Haarlep was send to distract Raphael, so why not?)

Sure, maybe Shit Bucket Guy annoyed Raphael in the past, but wouldn't that be kinda fucked up that this guy didn't do anything that would justify this treatment? He's just a dude, and Raphael is just a pissed-off daddy's boy (and a very mature one).

Or maybe, Raphael just thinks it's funny. And who are we to discuss a devil's sense of humor?

In any case, sorry Shit Bucket Guy, but it wasn't your lucky day.

PS: Hush, I can hear you wondering "do you think Raphael is scat???" and on this subject I would say: I don't think so, his narcissism is there after all, but he also seems really into humiliation. So maybe it's for the best we don't really know the answer to this question.

After all, only Haarlep can judge him (so the bar is already on the floor).

[nemo-in-wonderland]

"Let it all burn down around us Let the cruel consume the just Let the sin we swim in drown us Let the world shatter Into dust Nothing else matters Only us"

ONLY US - MIRACLE OF SOUND

---------------------------------------------------------

It's all about the possessivity.

It's all about consciounsly accepting that she now belongs to something - SOMEONE- much bigger than yourself and willingly walk down the path with him.

It's about literally not caring about the world around them because they are the only thing that truly matters in each other's life.

It's about a codependency that neither imagined would happen to them.

It's about obsession.

And dear Gods, I just LOVE this for them, because they are each other's match

Also, fml, I headcanon that Mephisto can change his appearance and size at will, to suit whatever Aranea needs or wishes.

But fuck my life, when he needs to assert his dominance over her, reminding her that she is his and his alone, regardless of the contract, that's when he actually choose his normal size, which is, of course, much bigger than Aranea.

(also, small side note, but I adore drawing Aranea's stretch marks. Like, considering her hair's length and the stretchmarks she has, this artwork takes place sometimes after Zaynab and Karam were born. Mephisto DOES NOT like to not be the first in Aranea's thought and while he is willing to demonstrate patience toward his children -if anything because Aranea loves them to bits, and what she loves, he loves- he still needs to remind her that she is HIS and only his - I mean, the man is toxic, we all know this by now. I also kinda headcanon that, because Aranea kinda likes Raphael as a brother, Mephisto is willing to be more lenient with him -TO AN EXTENT).

ANYWAY.

I adored working on this, drawing EACH of Mephisto's curls, which are my obsession tbh. Like, do not get me wrong, it took me AN HOUR just to draw them, but it's so relaxing, and he is so freaking handsome, I was just gawking at basically my own ocs for a good hour lolol

WELL, I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE THIS! <3

[alpaca-clouds]

Why did Raphael take little Enver?

Okay. I wanted to talk about this, given that I do write a lot about the grimy gremlin - Gortash that is. Because I have thought a lot about it and the game does not give a clear answer. According to the game Raphael at some point showed up at the Flymm household, in his human appearance, claimed he was a warlock and he saw potential in the boy, offering to buy him for money.

And then he dragged little Enver to hell, where he kept him for an unspecified time, which eventually basically caused most of the plot to happen. Because chances are, that without Enver being in the hell, he would not have learned about the Crown of Karsus, and hence nobody would come up with the rather convoluted plan of putting the Crown onto a fucking elderbrain.

And I think I am pretty sure what Raphael wanted. I think that Raphael for the most part wanted his own personal pet warlock, and he thought he could have it this way.

Notably the game treats Enver as a warlock in regards to his class. Sure, had the game had the arteficer class, maybe he would have been that, but so far I consider Gorts being treated as a warlock as a good indicator. Plus, the Flymm parents were off the opinion that Enver would learn warlockery or something.

See, pretty much all warlock patrons have this one nasty problem: Sure, they can make rules for their little warlock, but they tend to still have their own ideas about stuff. They can usually find ways to lie or trick themselves out of their contracts and what not. I mean, we see it with Mizora and Wyll, and how usually Wyll will try to get out of the contract.

Sure, some people get along splendid with their patrons, but especially when you are a devil, this is not a given. Especially given the fact that part of the entire contract will always be the warlock ending up in hell to fight in the Blood War. So, yeah, there tends to be a lot of trickery going on.

So, come in Raphael: "If I fetch myself a child with a bit of magic potential and raise that child and beat it into submission, before making the child my warlock, I would have my personal pet warlock, who I can then use as a political pawn on the physical plane." I assume he thought it would be pretty easy to raise a human child. Which he undoubtedly found out it was not.

But we know Raphael loves to have his fingers in many pies at once, and I assume his plan was, that he would use Enver as a pawn to throw around as his eyes and ears on the physical plane, so that he could have a spy. Which is also why I assume, he would have beaten a lot of upper class behavior into him.

Now of course, the question is: How far did he get with this plan before he got bored and just left little Enver to his own devices? That is really not clear. Just as we do not know for how long Enver was in the House of Hope as a prisoner. It might have been three or four years or more than ten. We have no clear idea from all I can see.

But yeah, that is what I think was the reason for Raphael to drag that kid to hell.

[ghostchems]

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

you set foot into raphael's kingdom without a chaperone to retrieve the hammer he's promised you.

author's note: read part one/two. sorry for taking so long with the next installment. 4.2k words! there's lots in here. haarlep makes an appearance (of course). cunnilingus, face sitting, blowjob, rough sex, overstimulation. ao3 link.

You only caught a glimpse of the House of Hope when Raphael whisked you away during your first meeting but now you’ve nearly been through it top bottom. Yes, he told you to come here and go straight to the boudoir to retrieve the Orphic Hammer but were you really going to give up the opportunity to go through all his stuff? Of course not.

His house floats in the desolate hellscape of Avernus, yet he has no allegiance to Zariel as far as you’re aware. It’s moody and dramatic, two key adjectives for Raphael himself. The archive is overflowing with infernal knowledge, bookshelves from floor to ceiling and his prized possessions on display as if it’s a museum. The dining room is just as grand as you remembered it but with a hint of unease due to the rotting food. He knew he was having company - shouldn’t he have at least cleaned up? You attention is pulled from statues of devils to portraits of himself to the grapes and wine and hookahs seemingly strategically left throughout the house. You fine yourself drawn to the many balconies that oversees the green souls keeping the house afloat. You wonder what would happen if you fell. Will your soul be dammed? Will your bones turn to ash? Will you shed your human body and be stripped down to the delicious soul you are?

You may have learned more about Raphael in the last half hour than all of your other meetings combined. Much to your companions ire, you’ve stopped to speak to every single debtor. They’re broken. Broken souls worn down to the very essence of their being, cursed to toil away in eternity in Raphael’s House of Hope. Something about it… tickles you. He’s been nothing more than “helpful” since you’ve met him, sure the threats have always been there, but seeing what he is actually capable of with your own two eyes makes you remember what he is. A devil. A cambion, specifically. He could turn you inside out with the snap of his finger. But he doesn’t. He’s touched you instead, slithered his way between your legs just as the tadpole has wormed into your brain. Does he see you as a formidable ally? Or another plaything to break down? You wonder if Raphael has already started on you — if this is apart of your deal, scribbled in infernal (a language you can’t read) on your contract.

The thought makes you shiver. It makes you want him all over again. Even if he hasn’t started trying to wear you down… you hope he’ll try.

Speaking of Hope. You didn’t know what to expect when he gave you the order to steer clear but it certainly wasn’t a dwarven cleric being held captive in his basement. She accosted you the moment you set foot into her home, begging you to help her. You smiled and told her you would, the hero that you are. It was a lie, of course. She is desperate and broken but she still clings to her namesake. You can understand why Raphael would keep her — she rebukes his every advance and won’t give up her optimism. She believes she can be saved, and maybe she’s right but your hands are tied. Still, the thought of him having her here to continue to torture when he could be focusing that energy on you. You decide to at least bring it up to him the next time you see him, which has yet to be “scheduled”. Part of you wants him to be waiting for you in the boudoir, hammer and a glass of wine in hand.

“For all the sense of dread and horror seeping through this place I really feel quite at home.” Astarion chirps, tearing you away from your thoughts in an effort to get you back to the task at hand. He’s far more understanding than the others and at this point you’re not sure what you would do without him. You offer him a small smile and start to lead your merry group of companions to the boudoir. A crowd, certainly. But this should be easy — pop in, take the hammer which is the salvation for all of Faerūn and then have a pint at Elfsong (and maybe a visit from a certain devil later that evening).

The boudoir is expansive and you can see why it is held in such high esteem by the debtors. There’s a large, steaming bath surrounded by more grapes and wine. You fight off the urge to dip a toe in. There are several desks with journals, quills, books all stacked on top and large canvas paintings of hellish scenes and dark portraits. If these walls could talk…

You see sparks out of the corner of your eye, your head twisting to see an empty space where you companions once stood behind you. A trap. This is a trap. Your chest tightens and you swear to yourself, you should have known something wasn’t right. Anger boils within you and a readiness rises to swing your blade at the next living, breathing thing that comes into your eye line. You keep your hand firm on the handle of your sword and move deeper into the spacious room. Are you a fool to have fallen for Raphael’s trickery? Or is he really that good? Even in the face of potential betrayal,

“Raphael?!” You are bewildered, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed. The devil gives a delighted laugh as he slinks to his knees, his wings stretching out behind him. You blink a few times, overwhelmed just by the sight of him — displayed in all his glory in a leather harness, even though you are sure this is some sort of trick. The second he opened his mouth, you knew. You suck in a deep breath, steeling yourself to focus.

“No, no, love… has he not told you about me?” Haarlep bares his fangs in a sinister smile, creeping closer to you at the edge of the bed. His tail slithers back and forth behind him, dangerous yet playful. You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off — “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, mouse.” Warmth blossoms in your chest. He talks about you? Haarlep swings his legs over the edge of the bed and lifts himself to his feet, his body becoming the only thing you could possibly focus on. He lingers in front of you and eyes you as if you are a delicious meal, his tongue wetting his lips and a low hum rumbling from his chest. “A pretty little toy, aren’t you?”

“I… no, he hasn’t told me about you.” Confusion. Utter confusion. And, is it… is it hot in here? You’re sweating — you can feel it on your brow. “I’m here for the hammer.” Back to business. “We made a deal and he said it would be here.” Your voice strains, a mix of frustration and being so completely lost in the situation.

“A shame.” Haarlep purrs and leans in closer, leering over you with a sharp smile. “I am not too surprised though — how does one bring up having their own personal incubus who takes their form in casual conversation?” A claw runs along your jaw, the tip of his nail giving you goosebumps. From your adventure in Raphael’s house, it was easy to come to the conclusion that he has a plethora of kinks but this — this is something else. “You’re here for the hammer, that is correct, my dear, but you are also here to play.” His tail starts to slink up your leg and warmth starts to pool in your core.

“B-but Raphael —”

“You have his permission, mouse. And, fun fact about me using Raphael’s likeness — he’ll be able to feel everything we do. He’s expecting it, in fact, and I’m sure he’s looking forward to it.” Haarlep’s claw closes around your chin and forces you to gaze into his familiar burning eyes. Black holes. You feel their pull. “Perhaps he is conducting business right now — could you imagine? Him trying to make a deal while being able to taste you on his lips?” A jolt of arousal rushes through you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Haarlep’s lips twitch into a devilish grin as you fall right into his grasp. The image he’s painted for you is beyond tempting; having Raphael be helpless to your touch while he’s off doing his devilish duties, desperate to conceal his erection. And, well, you have his permission, don’t you?

Haarlep lets go of your chin and swishes by you, his warm bicep brushing your shoulder and his tail flicking against your ankle. Your eyes trail after him, catching a glimpse of his toned back and his wing joints, veins bulging from the taut skin. You wonder if Raphael’s looks the same. It dawns on you that you haven’t seen much of his skin, in fact, you haven’t even seen his cock yet despite him spilling his seed inside you. You swallow thickly and take a step back, the backs of your knees hitting the foot of the bed.

“Cat got your tongue, mouse?” Haarlep moves in closer to you, the heat radiating off his body making your chest flush.

“No.” You answer sharply before slowly sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your palms and spreading your legs wide. His eyes rake over your figure, tilting his head to get a better look at you. You say nothing but Haarlep understands and sinks to his knees in front of you with his head settling at eye level. A hand rests on his chest, coarse hairs underneath your fingertips as you start to wander lower. Haarlep’s arms curl around your back, the tip of his nose just about touching yours as his body makes your legs spread even more. The heat between you is palpable and only continues to grow while you start to stroke at the ridges along his hips. It’s unusual for Haarlep to get this sort of attention, from both guests of the House and Raphael himself.

“You do not deserve to call such a man ‘Master’.” He can’t help it, locking eyes with yours. His words sting but the feeling is quickly washed away by his tongue slipping into your mouth. The breath leaves your lungs, sinking into the hellfire that is Haarlep. Nothing matters but how he tastes you in a deep kiss, his claws pricking at delicate skin beneath your sleeves. You top is gone in a matter of seconds and whether your helped him take it off of you or it disappeared with magic is beyond your at this point. All you want to do is feel. He breaks the kiss and brushes his lips along your jaw, his teeth nipping right where it meets your earlobe. You pull him closer by his harness until he is flush against you. Haarlep trails kisses further down your neck and your collarbone, sucking and biting enough to draw gasps and hums from you. He gently guides you to lay down on your back, his entire body enveloping you until he starts to move his mouth lower and lower.

Each kiss is like an explosion of sensations along your skin, buzzing and burning yet feeling so deliciously blissed out. You’re melting into the mattress, melting into him, each touch of his taking more and more of you. He leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake, his mouth then closing around your nipple. His tongue flutters around your hardened peak, making you tip your head back as you give a breathy moan. His hands are somehow everywhere all at once; Fingers feather through his hair and then settle at the base of his horns while he continues his descent. You feel him mouth around your navel with light scrapes of his teeth, his hands slinking down to tug at your pants. He takes his time, pulling them down inch by inch, lavishing kisses across your hip bones. You wriggle out of your pants, growing impatient but not wanting to order him.

Haarlep tongue lazily traces your clit and a ragged gasp escapes your lips, a jolt of pleasure rocketing through you. He laps at your slick folds, groaning at the taste of you and presses his face into you, his nose settling just at your clit. Your grip on his hair tightens and you can’t stop yourself from giving it a sharp tug as you squirm and huff. His claws curl around your thighs, the tips of them digging into the tender flesh of your inner thighs. You’re seeing stars, his tongue pressing into you so deeply while he grunts and laps at your juices. Your back arches off the mattress, your mouth hanging open and spilling hoarse moans. It’s devastatingly sensuous, your temperature rising to a comfortable simmer as your mind starts to clear. This could be forever, couldn’t it? You could stay here with Haarlep’s head between your thighs, devouring you until nothing else matters.

Your hands close around two of his horns and your hips start to roll, tugging him with each of your fluid movements. He growls into your cunt, making your thigh and core muscles tense, a deep groan falling from your lips. You’re so far gone yet so close to the edge, his tongue laving at your core as his claws dig even dipper into your thighs. The fire in your abdomen is raging, overwhelming you almost to the point of no return with soft moans turning to deep whines. You hear a rumbling groan, one too deep to be Haarlep’s, just as your dam bursts. Your eyes flutter open and you see him — Raphael — in cambion form with his navy blue doublet and a smug expression on his face. A broken sob heaves from your chest, Haarlep savoring the taste of your cum.

“Enjoying the amenities, are we?” Oh, he sounds so pleased with himself. If you had any energy you would mouth off but all you’re able to muster is a dramatic eye roll. Raphael slinks out of view, the bed dipping behind your from his weight. He had planned for this, the bastard. Your mouth is still slack and your heart is still pounding, trying to come down from an impossible high when Haarlep grips you by the hips and flips you over, your chin nearly landing in Raphael’s lap. He grabs you, his claw nearly clasped around your entire head and lifts you so that you’re looking up at him, though he makes sure you’re able to get a nice view of how hard he is through his trousers. “You taste sweet, little mouse. It’s only fair that you taste me after how wound up you’ve got me. Allow me to assist in getting you started.” His voice is dangerously low, glee in his fiery eyes as he unlaces his trousers, freeing his leaking cock**.**

It renders you speechless, larger than any cock you’ve seen before and it’s ribbed, a pearl of pre-cum already collecting at the top. Your jaw drops and Raphael takes this as an opportunity, forcing your mouth around him and guides you down his length. You groan as soon as you taste him, his cock heavy on your tongue as you run it along the underside, feeling every bulging vein. He’s so large that you drool and gag once he hits the back of your throat, swallowing and trying to breath comfortably. Haarlep is lurking behind you but you’re too focused at the task at hand to notice — until it’s too late. He positions his head between your legs, this time underneath you, his horns flush with your stomach, hands digging into your ass as his tongue savors your folds.

A moan of surprise rumbles up your throat and your head wrenches backward. Raphael’s grip on your head tightens and forces you back down his length with a violent tug. You’re eyes are watering and you struggle to breathe with his pulsing cock shoved down your throat while Haarlep toys with your clit, pinching it between his fangs and flicking his pointed tongue. Raphael bucks his hips into your mouth, fucking your face as he growls with need. You whimper around him, your vision blurring further from the tears in your eyes and the building tension in your core. You feel helpless, used. It’s the first time with Raphael you’ve felt you didn’t have the upper hand, or at least a cool head. The devils have reduced you to a mewling mess, a toy for them to play with. You mindlessly grind you hips against Haarlep’s face and he groans into you, his nose pressing firmly into your clit. A choked sob falls from your lips, your fingers digging into the sheets and your skin buzzing.

“Your lips are so pretty around my cock, mouse.” Raphael croons and tilts your head up so he can see you. Your cheeks are flushed and streaked in tears, your lips swollen and eyes half-lidded. He would paint you if he wasn’t so preoccupied by that mouth of yours. Hmm, perhaps he could paint your face. His claws dig into the sides of your head as he pulls you off of his cock, his other hand giving himself a few strong pumps before spilling his seed on your face. You’re panting, gasping for air as you sink forward, your cheek landing on the soft sheets. Raphael lifts himself off the bed but you’re too tired to lift your head to watch him, instead focusing on steadying your breath.

“You’ve had your fill.” He sneers and pulls Haarlep out from underneath you who gives a frustrated snarl. There’s some bickering but you’re too overstimulated to listen. After a moment Raphael’s claws settle on your waist with a low hum. He says nothing as he drags his cock along your dripping folds and you give a sharp whine, scrambling to adjust yourself. Your hips press back into him, sinking himself deep inside you with a calculated thrust. Primal lust explodes and courses through your body as you give a broken sob, your legs trembling and your core tensing while you ease his size. One large claw rests on the side of your head, nearly covering your eyes with his long fingers, and he clamps down on you, your face smushed against the mattress. His hips buck wildly against your ass, his pace brutal and punishing but you are basking in it, pushing back into each of his thrusts.

You feel his devilish strength, each roll of his hips sending you forward, your face buried in the covers as you cry and whine in twisted pleasure. Raphael has you laid bare. You’re nothing but a hole to him right now, a means to get him off just as he uses Haarlep. But there’s something about it that sends shivers down your spine: the possessiveness of it all. His claw is splayed out over your head, his other one digging harshly into your hip, slicing your flesh and making you bleed. The only thing on his mind is having you, having you in his true form, exerting his strength over you until you’re a quivering mess. He wants to fill you. Raphael hikes your ass up even higher and fucks into you, the new angle making your toes curl. You moan his name and he gives a pleased purr, driving into you quicker and harder.

You body feels as though it splits apart, overcome with your white hot climax. He rest his entire body weight on you now, crushing you beneath him as he buries himself deep inside you, over and over. His hot breath fills your ear, sharp and strained. You’re shivering, tears staining the sheets. Raphael utters one last hiss, teeth grazing your ear as he spills himself inside you, his hips slowing with each pulse of his cock. He’s on top of you until he’s spent, his nose nuzzling into your hair.

You can’t feel your limbs. Your body is trembling, your voice hoarse in your throat as you manage a weak protest. Raphael has you on your back in the blink of an eye, his tail slithering up your hips while he slots himself between your legs, using his knees to spread them further. His board is hard against yours, his clothes having disappeared. Your breath catches in his throat at the pressure of the top of his hard cock against your entrance. Surely you couldn’t take any more of this? You feel like you are about to melt away physically and mentally, your body limp and your brain fogged from the intense overstimulation. Raphael’s massive claws close around both your wrists, pinning them to the bed as his forearms cage you beneath him. The edge in his fiery eyes has softened and his nose drifts along your cheek, taking a deep inhale of your scent.

“A delicate little thing, aren’t you, sweetling?” He growls into your ear, his mouth hot and his sharp teeth pricking your skin. You open your mouth to answer but Raphael shifts his hips forward, the head of his ridged cock easily slipping inside you, the words getting caught in your throat. He hums against your ear and then drags his sharp tongue down the side of your neck. Your eyes roll back, squeezing them shut as he gives a languid thrust and pushes in to the hilt, a loud gasp forcing its way up your throat. Arms slip around his broad shoulders, body arching into his and you feel yourself start to disappear. Raphael lifts his head and hovers his mouth above yours. A groan vibrates up his chest to his throat, his lips parted as he continues at a lazy pace. He can’t get enough of your reactions, your cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink, your lips swollen from how he fucked your face earlier and those sweet, breathless sounds that are spilling from them.

This is a stark contrast from how he had just taken you, his hips circling in slow, sensual movements that has your core twisting in arousal despite your exhaustion. His own deep moans send current after current through you, reigniting your passion and need for him. You bring your hips up to meet his with each thrust and he bares his teeth as your writhing grows more fluid. Raphael releases your wrists so that he can drag one of his sharp claws down your collarbone and along your side, leaving scratch marks. You move your hand to his hair and you realize this is the first time he’s been comfortably within grasp. Self control out the window, you touch his pointed and then bravely run your fingertips over his horns. Despite looking rugged and razor-sharp they’re smooth beneath your fingers. You wrap your hand around one of them and give it a gentle tug.

“Mouse.” The word is strained, sounding like a warning or potentially a challenge. You take the gamble and pull on his horn again. Raphael shudders, an uncontrolled moan spilling from his lips. His mouth drops open, lips curled into a blissful smile. You hum in response, feeling a deep flush in your chest from his reaction. His eyes sharpen as the feeling passes, slowing his thrusts and silence falling between you. Your breath catches in your throat, tension in your chest, your mind hurdling a million miles an hour suddenly because you feel like you’re in trouble. Raphael slowly moves his claw to curl underneath your chin, eyes locking with his. He groans, his entire body rumbling against you and leans in, capturing your lips. It’s shockingly gentle, passionate that only increases with his need to consume you. His hips jerk, tail wrapping tightly around your leg only to peel you further apart as he picks up his thrusts again. Your tongue runs along his sharp fangs and he purrs into your mouth, biting down on your tongue and lip playfully.

You’re all too aware of the way he throbs inside you, his ridges massaging your walls in a way that makes you see stars. Raphael’s growling grows deeper, vibrating through him as his pace starts to grow ragged, frantic and out of time. He gives a strangled hiss into your mouth, his body shuddering while he empties himself inside you. You’re already so full that it seeps down the insides of your thighs. Raphael breaks the kiss and presses his nose to your flushed cheek, catching his breath.

“I won’t stop. Not ever. Not until I own you completely.” A hot whisper of the clearest words he’s ever spoken to you. You sink further into the mattress, melting away as he rises over you, his red wings ruffling behind him. His obsession with you is written all over his face, his eyes taking in every part of your exhausted body, plotting more ways to keep you in his bed. He cracks his neck and his expression hardens in an effort to get back to the business at hand, though you feel one of his hands stroke at your arm.

“Rest now, mouse.”

Comfortable darkness envelopes you.

[red-dead-sakharine]

Raphael defeated Ketheric by using Yurgir

idk if this is common knowledge or not, but I puzzled it together only yesterday because I always missed a crucial NPC to see the whole picture. So here it is:

From the architect of Moonrise towers - the Infernal Mason you encounter in the House of Hope - you learn that:

Ketheric at some point, after the death of his wife, forsook Selûne and became a Shar worshipper. He had an army that he sent to war, to spread the darkness.

The architect saw his master's evil and made a deal with Raphael: His soul, for the destruction of Ketheric's army.

Raphael kept his word, and Ketheric's forces were destroyed by fiends.

Now, from the Elder Rothé near the Grymforge waypoint you learn that:

Ketheric's army consisted of Dark Justiciars.

A "hellbeast came with the mask-men" and destroyed the army.

And of course we know that Yurgir is trapped in the temple of Shar because his contract forces him to kill all Dark Justiciars.

So now, you know why:

The Architect made a deal with Raphael to stop Ketheric's army of Dark Justiciars.

Raphael contracted Yurgir (who brought his Merigons) to fulfil his own side of the contract.

Yurgir destroyed the army, but because one Dark Justiciar escaped with Raphael's help, he got trapped.

Why trap Yurgir?

We don't really know - unless I've yet to find it. We do know Raphael considers Yurgir dangerous, so it could be simply security. Trapping a dangerous asset, until it's needed again. He clearly had plans, since he makes Yurgir commander for presumably the conquest of the hells.

Why help Lyrthindor hide?

To trap Yurgir, but also

Yurgir claims that Raphael mentioned an aasimar

Theory: Raphael might have known, that only a Sharran/Dark Justiciar can kill the Nightsong. So he kept one alive, in case he ever has to kill her.

Why though? He probably knew Ketheric was kept immortal by the Nightsong, so the question would be: Why did Raphael want to keep Ketheric alive? Did he see this entire dead three plot coming? I wouldn't put it past him.

I shall keep investigating, and update this post as I learn more. If anyone has more info, please lmk!

Additional musings:

Why does Yurgir have Raphael's boots??

👉 more on Raphael being a bard

[reverieblondie]

Could I request headcanons for Raphael, and Zevlor with shy gn s/o?

Of course! We can't forget those two! Hope you like it, it did these ones pretty quickly. Last bullet point is NSFW.

BG3 Men with shy gn s/o part 1

Raphael

When his eyes first saw you he couldn’t help but smirk, taking advantage of such a timid little mouse, it was just so easy… However, Raphael was pleasantly surprised when despite your shy demeanor you were surprisingly strong-willed. He always enjoyed a chase… Though you were a person of few words, you enjoyed his poetic ones. You could listen to him for hours practicing his veiled words and he would gladly perform for you. Who wouldn’t love being admired, even by a meek mouse? 

Raphael relishes in watching you squirm and blush. All he seems to have to do is a smile or say a teasing pet name towards you. Loves the way your body heats up and shudders as he tempts you with honeyed words. You know you want to be his, how well he would treat his favorite pet. One way you have found to turn the tables and make him the speechless one for a change is to take the poetic words he spoke to you and twist them towards him. He loves a quick wit and the sound of his twisted words from your shy lips. 

Careful, he claws and bites. If he’s got you where he wants his little mouse he will mark you at every opportunity. Hickies and bite marks litter your once pristine skin. Your back and sides are decorated with raised red lines from his long nails dragging over your body. You are his and he wants to make sure you and everyone else never forgets that. Once you're feeling bold enough you will try and persuade him to let you mark him. Normally he would refuse if anyone would suggest such a thing, but you are his favorite… He will smile at you as he slowly tilts his head to the side to expose his neck to you simply saying, “You can try, little mouse…” 

A date with Raphael is surprisingly tame, thank goodness for your meek heart. A simple game of lance board is what he would suggest for the evening in his House of Hope. Loves to watch you take your time accessing your next move, biting back his smile as you fall into the trap he set. When you lose he says the loser now has to give the winner something, Don’t worry this time it’s not your soul. Raphael has something a tad sweeter in mind. 

A slow tsk will leave him as you start to shyly bounce and grind on his lap. You instantly still when you feel him swat your ass. A low groan leaves him as your walls tense around his cock buried deeply within you. The winner decided he wanted his cock warmed while he reviewed some contracts. Be patient little mouse he will deal with you soon…

Zevlor

Being a person of a similar nature, you two would instantly have a connection. Nothing but a perfect gentleman when you first met him, thanking you for helping his people and the grove with a bow of his head and a shy smile to match your own. You two will just be drawn to each other, often finding that you two have wandered into proximity of one another, getting closer and closer as the days go on. Sure you two have your differences but you can just understand each other so deeply and can provide the other with what they need so perfectly. It's like the match between you two was destined by the gods. 

Zevlor would never intend to make you flustered on purpose but he seems to do it quite often by accident. The main cause of your red cheeks would be when you are telling him a story, rambling through your words as he listens to you intently. Then before you know it, his large hand is brushing strains of your hair away from your face. Before you know it every time your hair is slightly messy in his presence he is fixing it for you with a smile and a hum. To get him to glow red like you are currently, you will ask to run your fingers through his hair, he might just explode at your suggestion alone. As he pulls his tie from his hair he will lean towards you averting his eyes bashfully. 

Expect to get a fresh bouquet of wildflowers every morning when he comes back from patrol. Zevlor is a huge acts of service guy, if you need help with something, it doesn't matter how small he is more than willing to help. Need help changing the bed linens? He is right there on the other side helping pull them down. Does laundry need to be hung on the line? Allow him to do it for you. Low on firewood? He will spend the rest of the afternoon chopping wood for tonight's fire. Maybe he will take off his shirt for you to sneak a glimpse or two. 

You and Zevlor are not fans of busy or loud places so your dates are usually very quiet. However on some nights when you two have extra energy from the day you two will have an impromptu sparring match. Zevlor would teach you moves he learned from his time with the hellriders. If you're not well versed with a weapon he will come behind you and show you how to properly hold it. While you're wrapped around his warm arms you will have a moment of bravery and kiss his cheek. You will both be blushing by the end of the match. 

When you and Zevlor get intimate he always takes his time with you. Despite his shy nature, he has experience and he knows how important it is to make sure that your partner is prepped. His favorite way to prep you? Man has a full-on oral fixation, he is addicted to your taste and will spend as much time as he needs lapping his experienced tongue on you. Zevlor won't even think about putting in his straining length in you till you have cummed at least once, and if you must know…he always swallows. One should never be wasteful.

[junowritings]

Raphael being infatuated with a mortal and the interest seems to be mutual (maybe with the mortal bantering with the devil about how he doesn't need to bribe them to get them to spend time with him), but then another person pulls the—probably in human form—cambion aside and tells the him to not try to flirt with the mortal he's infatuated with because, "Them and I are already together." However, this person is just delusional and decided that the object of Raphael's affections interests being polite meant they were dating. The mortal verbally tears the delusional person a new one when this comes to light and lets it slip during the tirade that Raphael's infatuation is indeed reciprocated.

First time writing for Raphael! Definitely gotta brush up more on his character but this was an interesting concept to work with!

You'll have to forgive me for getting a lil carried away with the build up for this one but I do hope that it's to your liking hun~!

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♡ The work of a devil means to surround yourself with fools. Fools who put their lives, and their souls, and all that they hold dear on the line in an attempt to vie for the chance to gain something better. Something greater than them - however temporary. And who was Raphael to deny them the opportunity? He is oh so generous, after all.

♡ Raphael makes no attempt to hide how much he enjoys the back and forth - the game of cat and mouse with stubborn souls who have yet to realize that they had been doomed from the moment the cambion had set his sights on his latest mark. They all come crawling back eventually of their own accord; pushed into the corner with nowhere else to turn just as he always warned them. So Raphael is more than content to wait however long that takes. Weeks. Month. Years. He has all the means to bide his time. Raphael can afford the wait; his clients can’t.

♡ But of course he has to find some way to pass that time - to entertain himself while the proverbial counter whittles down.

♡ That is where you come in.

♡ How he found you was anyone’s guess. Maybe you caught his eye, a momentary fancy in the vicinity of his latest client, going about your meager days in a relative peace he was all too happy to break. Or perhaps you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time; strayed too long in his presence or looked too close at the devil in mortal’s clothing till you realized you knew too much. Whatever the details of your first encounter, once Raphael has set his sights on something that he wants, your days of peace without him are long gone.

♡ Such a pesky little mortal you are. A sharper wit and even sharper tongue than some of the suckers who come clamoring to him for their own gain. One who acts as though the sight of the devil at your doorstep every few days is another routine to grow accustomed to. Maybe it is, but don’t tell him that. He’d almost be offended by the lukewarm reception; but luckily for you he finds it humorous, enough so that he sticks around, appearing like a surprise guest at your local haunts, feigning pleasant surprise to have ‘coincidentally crossed paths’ with you when you’re least expecting him.

♡In the beginning Raphael tolerates you - sees you as an amusing way to pass the time when his other prospects aren’t bearing fruit and his creature comforts are proving too lackluster for an appropriate distraction. But the more he visits, the more your life seems to shift to accommodate the devil.

♡ You aren’t the exception to his offers either. He’s produced the idea of a contract on more than one occasion, noting all of the time he took on the details of that little scroll of paper, tucked neatly away at the house of hope for the day that you agree to strike a deal. He says it as though it's fact, and you have no illusions he believes that entirely. But for now it stays as a playful banter, rolling off his offer with a sarcastic rebuttal that he’s better off saving that contract for the next poor soul he latches onto.

♡ It becomes a funny little routine, and the cambion makes no hesitation to make himself at home in your home as though he owns the place. Hells it’s as though he’s claimed the house - and it’s occupants - as an abode away from the house of hope. Knowing Raphael, he probably has. 

♡ You find decorations that weren’t there before; alterations to your wardrobe and home with no room for doubt of who they’re from. Your comment that he doesn’t need to bribe you to get you to spend time with him is only met with a grin that’s all teeth and snark, as Raphael quickly corrects you that these are merely ‘investments’. You never get the chance to find out what these ‘investments’ are for.

♡ In return you listen to his waxing poetics, prodding and poking at the lines he recites as though ribbing an old friend. You know very well that on the wrong day, the wrong word would earn you his ire, but the fear of that being death and not a thinly veiled glare ebbs with each passing day. So you find yourself relaxing, daresay, even enjoying the devil’s company. And Raphael is reveling in the attention, more so than you will likely ever get him to admit aloud.

♡ Raphael will never call it infatuation. Fondness? Maybe; said once or twice with just enough of a casual tone to pass it off as his usual antics. Love is not to be found in his honeyed words and literature. But an appreciation and desire for what he wants? That he can work with, if you’re ever brave enough to ask.

♡ Not that you get to, before someone else gets involved on this little one on one. Really, do none of these mortals value their lives? 

♡ Clearly the fool is nowhere near as sharp as the average mortal, as even the lingering scent of sulfur from Raphael’s latest appearance doesn’t deter them from pulling him aside. It’s a good thing they removed their hands before the devil decided to pry each finger off for the blatant disrespect, scowl already setting deep lines on his face as the being before him rattles on. Something about ‘flirting’ this, ‘don’t try anything that. Boring drivel as far as Raphael is concerned, until it clicks that this person is warding him off from you with claims that they got to you first. 

♡ There are two ways that this encounter would pan out, depending on the mood that this poor sod catches the cambion in. 

♡ IF (and this is a big if) they somehow manage to catch him in a tolerable moment, Raphael will be generous enough to divulge their ramblings for a second. Of course he doesn’t take this seriously. Since when did such feeble reasons as ‘we’re already together’ or declarations of their love for you ever matter? The grin on his face is mocking, downright taunting to the point this ‘suitor’ of yours grows too unnerved to continue this intervention’. 

♡ Otherwise the disgust is palpable. Does this prat think for a second that whatever drabble comes out of their mouth is worth the man’s time? You, he likes. The others, he can tolerate. This little fidgeting pound of flesh? They’re lucky he hasn’t asked one of the pawns at his disposal to get rid of them yet. The only thing that keeps them alive is that they’re simply not worth the hassle. Even though his expression sours and the scowl on his face deepens as his gaze sharpens, dark eyes regarding them as a cat would regard an insect - enough to mess with, but hardly worth the meal to waste energy on.

♡ Raphael is at his core a meddler (to put it in nicer terms), so it is quite frankly a miracle that you don’t hear it from the mouth of the cambion himself after your ‘partner’s confrontation. He pays no mind to baseless warnings, honestly getting a kick out of doing anything but what they asked. Raphael doesn’t just want to wound their pride - he will rub salt, and dirt, and filth into that wound and let it fester for good measure for the insult. And you become the weapon for his self perceived revenge.

♡ The change is unmissable, and Raphael lays it on thick. Your days out in the city never come without the cambion’s company, a hand steadfast upon your lower back to guide you as you go about your errands. He even makes a show of walking you home after every excursion, when before he would leave you to your devices whatever time suited him. If only you knew the smug satisfaction it gave him imagining how your ‘partner’s blood must boil at the very sight. The message is clear: he’s not sharing this one.

♡ The gifts are more blatant as well - with statement pieces too big and too rich for any rational person to afford and yet you find them at your bedside damn near every other morning. Not knowing better you’re wary of his intentions, even though the devil donning his human guise insists that there’s no strings attached to this small transaction. “It’s only fitting that you’re donned in something opulent to match your company, isn’t it?” yet with the way he words it you know that wearing them is more than a request. Especially once you put them on, and catch his smirk of pride. Clearly going along with his ‘requests’ strokes his ego.

♡ This game is dead in the water by a few days, as Raphael’s attempt to rile up that lover of yours has them bursting at the seams in rage. That fool makes another attempt to pull him aside right outside of your door nonetheless, but this time Raphael is far less inclined to give them the mercy of this charade. They’d outlived their welcome the first encounter, and Raphael is in no mood to waste anymore time on them. Even in a human guise he’s more than capable of removing this bore, and only pauses to mull over how long it will take you to scrub whatever gristle is left of this person from your homestead by the time he’s done with them. Doesn’t even bother listening to the same spiel, casting a cursory glance to your front door behind the mortal debating if frying them to a crisp would damage the new decorations. No matter; he could always buy you better ones. 

♡ That line of thought pauses at the sight of you at the door, only catching the briefest look of horror on your face before it scrunches up in anger. You cross the space in seconds - and Raphael is almost impressed by how fast your hands shoot out to wind into the collar of this mortal practically dragging them back and away from the cambion. It looks as though he doesn’t have to lift a finger to solve this little issue this time, if the way your face is alight with rage as you scream at this so-called ‘partner’ about their delusions is any indication. 

♡ Oh, this is too good not to watch, and he is going to stand there and enjoy every second of it. Were Raphael not thoroughly enjoying the show he may have conjured a glass of wine to go along with the entertainment unfolding before him. Instead he will settle for watching the scene play out, far too happy in the knowledge that the pieces fall into place without him even moving the board in this confrontation. He’s seen you exasperated, seeing you upset and angry. But this? You’re pissed; to the point where your mouth appears to run faster than your brain, as in the middle of your shouting you jab a finger in Raphael’s direction, not even sparing him a glance as you snap.

♡ “- And I would take him over you any day! At least I actually like him!”

♡ Ah, there it is. His lip curls in triumph as his eyes blaze holes into the person shrinking and humiliated by your biting verbal assault. They make the mistake of glancing over at him at the wrong time, and for a second they swear they see shapes in Raphael's shadows, a smoldering hellfire behind dark eyes as his lips part, revealing a flash of sharp teeth as he mouths wordlessly to the mortal.

♡ 'I win.' 

♡ They can’t get away fast enough, tripping over cobble and their own feet as they scarper away like a frightened animal. You’re spitting out curses as they go, a final shout to get lost breaking into a breathless huff as you watch them till they disappear from view. It isn’t until they’re long gone that you finally seem to ease, running a hand through your hair with a groan as you bemoan the headache this whole event has no doubt caused you.

♡ It seems for a second that you’ve forgotten your present company; that just won’t do. He sees you calm, watches the anger and tension as it seeps from your body with each haggard breath in the wake of your tirade attempting to recollect yourself. Then he watches you freeze, the tension winding up once again like a coil as the sound of slow, methodical clapping reaches your ears. Raphael waits till you’ve turned, mustering the courage to look the devil in the face before his hands clap together the last time, praising you for the impromptu show. 

♡ You’ve never looked quite so shaken in his presence. You usually shoot back his banter so casually, and now you can’t quite look him in the eye - whatever could have caused that change, hm~? Finally realized the words you’d let slip?

♡ You can’t begrudge him for enjoying the moment, can you? It’s in his nature after all to see opportunity in all circumstances as you’ve seen firsthand. There’s a glint you can’t quite place in his eye as he remarks that he’s impressed; for just a mortal you sure managed to put the fear of the hells into the poor soul - send them running as though their lives depended on it. He knew you were brazen, but this was certainly something to witness. See, this is why you’re one of his favorite mortals, as he’s quick to remind you. 

♡ A kinder soul would broach your feelings, fulfill or ease your fears at having blurted out such a thing. But that’s not a mercy you’re provided this time. It’s not brought up just yet - not here. No, instead Raphael will tuck that little bit of information away for later use at a more opportune time. Another card up the sleeve, though the knowledge stirs up a fire within his infernal soul now that he knows he’s drawn you in after such a tumultuous chase. It appears that this arrangement just became a bit more interesting~