#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...

[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

[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.”

[dark-and-kawaii]

Just a thought came to mind! How do you feel about Raphael, Haarlep, Rolan, and Zevlor being spanked by you (with consent of course!)? I'm curious :3

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭*✩‧₊ When Love Gets A Little Cheeky

⊹ D’awh this is so adorably cute!!! They all have nice booties so yes!!! Let’s smack some bg3 ass!!!!

⊹ Content: Smacking Some Ham ♡ ♡ ♡ - Cheeky - Cute - Teasing

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Zevlor

Watching Zevlor do just about anything is like a treat for your eyes. The way his muscles ripple beneath the white fabric of his linen shirt when he does anything, it’s hard not to drool a little. But right now, as he bends to grab the cloth he dropped, you suddenly notice just how fine his backside is…

You’re sitting there, legs crossed, completely entranced. Your body seems to have a mind of its own as you quietly get up and make your way over to him, hands tucked behind your back, cheeks flushed with a mischievous grin. Just as he straightens up, your hand playfully lands a cheeky smack on his rear!

Zevlor’s reaction was so priceless, so cute as his tail shoots straight up, spinning around, utterly bewildered at the sudden violation of his privacy. His eyes meet your beautiful face, which is lit up with the biggest, most innocent smile and blush.

You giggle, “Sorry! I just couldn’t resist! It’s just so nice and it was just staring at me!” Your lashes flutter, laughing, and gaze up at him with the same sweet expression.

It takes him a moment but soon his body relaxes, the look of confusion on his face replaced with that sweet and kind smile of his, that smile that always makes you fall for him over and over again, “You should wane on the side of caution, my dear. One might think that you were flirting with me.” His tail slinked up around your waist to pull you closer, making you giggle again.

You rest your hands on his chest, giving it a playful rub, eyes twinkling as you reply, “Gasp! Flirt with a hellspawn? Never!” You bite your lip with a cheeky grin, leaning into him, fingers toying with his shirt buttons.

Zevlor chuckles, “Well then, I suppose it is I who should wane on the side of caution in such a situation. The look you're giving me suggests I might have a succubus in my arms.” He leans down to capture your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your neck as his tail holds you close.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Haarlep

Sneaking up on Haarlep? Yeah, that wasn’t really your strong suit. Even now, as you watch the creature sprawled out on your bed, lying in his stomach with that tempting ass of his in the perfect position to be played with- just begging to be smacked...

But Haarlep, being the ever tease he was, just laid there, his eyes closed as he played along with your games. The incubus is always so eager to see what you’re planning.

You try, oh how you try so quietly to sneak up on your incubus, standing beside the bedside where he lounges, eyes locked on that irresistible ass. Just as you think you’ve finally did it- that you finally were able to land the perfect blow, your hand coming down- his tail snakes around your wrist… And with a swift tug, you’re forced to fall onto his back.

“Now, now, what have we here~? What mischief are you up to, my little dove?” That voice, that sultry whisper that always sends a delicious shiver down your spine, “Up to no good again, I see? Whatever shall I do about this~?” As his tail releases your wrist, it swoops down deliver a smack to your own ass, “Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson or two~”

Deep down, you knew it would end up like this, but honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way~

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Raphael

Lounging in the House of Hope, you watched your devil as he paced around, examining his latest contract. The parchment was so insignificant compared to that handsome smirk playing on his lips, how his tail swayed, and you couldn’t help but admire how his pants hugged his rear just right.

You felt so incredibly lucky to be in his presence, grateful he decided to keep you around so that you could enjoy the view of such eye candy.

As he approached where you were soaking in his healing bath, he lowered the contracts so that he could glance down at you with a dark chuckle, “Enjoying yourself, mous?”

You tilted your head with a playful smile, “would be better if I had a certain devil I knew in here with me~” you replied, lifting your leg out of the tub in a teasing manner.

“In due time.” he murmured, beginning to walk away.

But patience wasn’t on your agenda today, not at all. Feeling a bit bratty and craving his attention, you decided to make a move. With haste, you stepped out of the water, careful not to slip as you dashed up to him, delivering a playful smack to his ass.

You watched as his shoulders tensed and his tail froze mid sway. As he turned to face you, his little mouse, you flashed him a toothy grin, stuck your tongue out, and scampered back to the bath, read for the cat and mouse game you knew he enjoyed so much~

Peeking out from the water, you watch him observiently.

“My, my, how Ill mannered of you, little mouse.” He mused, snapping his fingers to make the contract vanish. In an instant, he also disappeared only to appear behind you, pressing against your backside, his body pinning you against the edge of the bath. His large hand cupping your ass possessively.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Rolan

Rolan was always the serious type, nose buried in his scrolls and potions. Even now as you visited him in his tower, he’s all about his work. You let out a dramatic sigh, plopping yourself onto his desk, watching him with nothing but boredom in your eyes.

Hopping off his wooden desk, you lean against him, your chest brushing up against his arm as you grin wide at him. Rolan barely spares you a glance, sighing, “Can I help you with something?”

“Just watchin!~” You chirp, wiggling your hips before slipping behind him. He’s so absorbed in his potion and scroll. Leaning back, your hands come up to frame his cute little butt like a camera lens.

“So adorable~” You whisper under your breath.

“What was tha-?”

Your hand suddenly claps down somewhat hard on his ass, causing Rolan to let out a cry, and the potion in his hands to go everywhere. He doesn’t have to turn around so you can see his reaction. From how he suddenly froze and his whole body tensed up, you can tell that the poor tiefling is stunned.

You bite back a laugh, a small squeak coming from your mouth as you cover your mouth. Rolan, on the other hand, lets out a strangled noise from his throat as he slowly turns his head towards you. His eyes are narrowed, and the tips of his ears an even brighter red.

A smirk graces your lips as you reach up to tap his nose, “Oops! There was a fly there~” you wink.

Rolan sighs heavily, his face falling into his hands as he shakes his head.

He swore you were going to be the death of him.

[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).

[bitethedevil]

CW: Incest…sort of?

I’ve got this fucking fic idea stuck in my brain. I can’t get it out of my head but I have too much shit going on too so I can’t write it. So now I’ll just ramble about it instead.

The first time Tav meets Raphael, he sort of narrows his eyes at her and stumbles a bit in his prepared speech without her knowing why. Tav is a red-skinned tiefling with orange eyes, and she looks the spitting image of Raphael. The hair, the nose, the horns, she’s even a damn bard.

Her companions don’t get it either before he does his magical girl transformation into a cambion and then even they are like “hmmmm”. Tav doesn’t see it at first and stubbornly brushes it off as pure tiefling racism.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Avernus, Raphael is having a full on existential crisis. Could it be? He had always been so careful. He supposes it could be possible…The thought that he might be a father freaks him tf out. Rattles his shit completely, but also intrigues him. It quickly becomes a minor obsession for him to know. He does his research and finds out who Tav’s mother was and that it technically could be possible, since she was a former client of his.

He starts treating Tav differently. He even helps her a little bit. It’s not reeeally out of fatherly love, but more out of Raphael’s love for everything he can mirror himself in, which now definitely includes her. He spoils the shit out of her. One minor obsession merge with the main obsession that his potential daughter might bring him the Crown of Karsus.

Tav doesn’t complain and her companions encourage her to play it up because Raph’s help is super useful, which she then does. The problem is that she’s not sure that Raphael is not her dad either.

Things get super weird and at some point shit gets too real. Raphael seems so sure that all his hard work on his ‘daughter’ means that he will get the Crown of Karsus for sure. Tav has played it up so much that it’s almost awkward at this point to tell him no when it comes to signing his contract. She feels really pressured, and she and her companions decide that the game is up. They can’t give the Crown to Raph, but they still need the Orphic Hammer.

They break into the House of Hope. When they get to the boudoir, they meet Haarlep, which is now even weirder considering the whole paternity situation. Killing Haarlep is not really an option since they are naively hoping they can damage control pissing off Raphael since Tav is now closer to him.

Haarlep takes one look at her and his brow furrows as he looks her up and down. They have heard Raphael rambling about her and the whole situation, of course, but they are still surprised at the resemblance.

Despite the discouragement of her very disturbed companions, she decides that she just need to get it over with and fuck them, and that technically it’s not weird because it’s not her maybe-father, just a copy of him.

Haarlep almost kisses her but gets a good whiff of her breath before they do so and damn near falls off the bed. They open her mouth and take a deeper whiff.

Now it’s Haarlep’s turn for an existential crisis, because Tav isn’t Raphael’s kid. She’s Haarlep’s kid. Her breath has a subtle scent of diluted succubus spittle, which is how Haarlep knows. This is all possible because Haarlep is transfigured to look like Raphael (meaning: has completely changed shape) and hasn’t just taken his form or is glamoured to look like him.

Haarlep’s dick goes soft for the first time in millennia, and they can’t do it. Even they have their limits. Tav and her companions are so fucking out of it that they just leave without the Hammer.

Raphael’s reaction to the whole thing is essentially: “Oh…😮 Oh…😏🫦”. The fatherly feelings are gone just like that. That shit gets his dick rock hard. It’s basically a copy of him but without magic or anything. He might even genuinely fall for her a little bit for the sole reason that he sees himself in her.

Tav, understandably, is not cool with any of it, but Raphael is nothing if not persistent. Weird obsessive love drama ensues and Haarlep (and literally everyone else) feels very weird about the whole thing.

[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.

[atrueneutral]

Bath, Bed & Beyond - Raphael x Tav

After weeks of constant battles and near-death-experiences, it was a slap in the face that the Crown of Karsus ended up in the Chionthar.

It could have fallen anywhere else but in the river.

It could have been easy.

Had it landed on the docks, Tav would have plucked it from the ground like any other item she pilfered. She’d have put it in her pack and would have promptly gone off to deliver the all-powerful Netherese artifact to Raphael - satisfying the terms of her contract.

But no! Nothing was ever as easy as it could have been; it wasn’t easy convincing Rolan to spend time on the docks casting spells on her and supplying her with potions; it wasn’t easy deep diving into the murky river waters for days on end; and it certainly wasn’t easy finding the godsdamn Crown of Karsus!

Bloody thing was a pain in her ass…

She should have listened to her friends, and she shouldn’t have made a deal with a devil…

Much to Rolan’s chagrin, Raphael had shown a number of times over the course of her search. He, apparently, “wanted to see how she was faring”, and, according to the wizard, seemed to find amusement in her desperation of trying to find the object that would see him rule the Hells.

One night, after failing to find her missing treasure, Tav wondered out loud why Raphael didn’t help her; it didn’t make sense that he’d prolong his ambitions after all of the salivating he did whenever he spoke of the Crown. 

Rolan suggested maybe there was a secret time limit buried in the nooks and crannies of her contract. Maybe Raphael wanted her to fail because he wanted her soul.

“He’s waited this long, I’m sure he can afford to wait a bit longer to ensure he gets both you and the Crown of Karsus. He’s a devil - are you really so surprised that he’d desire to keep you as well?”

To that, she called Rolan crazy, but Tav searched harder in the days that followed (out of fear that she was racing an invisible clock), and she eventually found what she was looking for.

—

Tav entered the Devil’s Den without knocking. She cared not that it was rude. She cared little about anything outside of fulfilling her contract, taking a bath, and sleeping for a very, very long time. Fatigue wreaked havoc on her body after recent events and days of stressful swimming, and the too long of a walk that brought her to Rivington drained her to the brink of wanting to fall over.

She ambled into the suite, and Raphael’s mortal visage made a face at her appearance - namely her water-logged countenance of damp hair and damp clothes that reeked of river water.

She hoped her exhaustion came off as apathy.

“Your message stated you had something specific for me?” he asked.

He was referencing the message she sent with a Scroll of Sending roughly an hour and a half ago. With it, she said: “I have your stupid Crown. Where should I meet you? Are you coming to the docks? Please come to the docks.”

Panting had, unfortunately, been included in-between some of her words.

Tav blinked, and her eyes went from staring longingly at the steaming bath littered with flower petals to the cambion who appraised her with a raised brow.

“I do,” she answered, and Tav reached into her pack for the Crown. She crossed over to him, revealed the artifact, and Raphael’s mask of composure cracked. 

Ambition bled from the fissures - his dreams would not remain dreams much longer…

With the current most important dream realized, a shaky breath left Raphael as he accepted and held the Crown in his hand. Tav rummaged around for the Netherstones, and she placed them on a nearby desk when it became clear that Raphael was having a moment between himself and his new shiny and dangerous toy.

She glanced down to see if he had an erection, and sure enough, a bulge was forming from inside his pants.

“Raphael?” she prompted.

“Hm?”

The Crown and fantasies of grandeur had successfully enthralled him.

“Is my contract fulfilled?”

“Yes.”

When he did not procure said contract, Tav sighed.

“Can I trust that you’ll see to completing my contract… when you’re done?”

“Mm, yes.”

Rolan was wrong; he did not want her or her soul. Raphael’s interest in his little mouse was purely in being a delivery tool for his precious artifact, and Tav found herself feeling oddly crestfallen at the verdict. It was nothing more than devilish amusement (or a form of punishment) that kept him from helping her fetch the Crown from the Chionthar.

“Great, thank you. Goodbye, Raphael.”

She turned and took a step for the door.

“Leaving so soon, Little Mouse?”

The rich purr of his voice stilled her.

“The delivery has been made, and you are preoccupied,” she answered, facing him again.

“Pardon my momentary lapse - I assure you it won’t happen again.” As if to make a point, he went to where the Netherstones were gathered and placed the Crown beside them. He leaned against the desk, blocking the artifact’s view from him and her. “Thank you for bringing me the Crown. I knew you wouldn’t fail - just as you knew failure wasn’t an option. You must regale me what the depths of the Chionthar look like sometime over dinner. The smell of the river, however, I could do without.”

Understanding his insinuation that she smelled, she gave him a thin lipped smile. “Then I shall be on my way...”

“You misunderstand, my dear!” Raphael gestured theatrically for the bath, and his features became predatory. “Stay awhile, won’t you? I will fulfill your contract before your very eyes, and you will sleep soundly tonight knowing you made the right choice in bargaining with a devil.”

The bath did look inviting…

“If you’d like, you have my permission to rest your weary head in this room,” he continued. “The bed is quite cozy - not nearly as comfortable as the bed in my House of Hope, but you know that already, don’t you?”

Tav’s blood went cold at his mention of her uninvited visit.

“Sorry about that…” she offered sheepishly, meaning it. Haarlep’s use of her body had become a nuisance, yet it often aroused her to think it was Raphael who benefitted and used the unintentional gift she left behind.

Based on the look in his eyes, he did.

Snap!

A contract materialized from within a plume of smoke and embers, and the infernal words etched into the parchment glowed. At Raphael’s behest and a wave of his hand, a new emblem-like symbol was magically inscribed before the parchment went up in flames.

“It’s been an Absolute pleasure doing business with you, Little Mouse.”

Oh no - his stare was making her feel warm in places.

Maybe Rolan was right in some regard.

Maybe Raphael did want her.

“Likewise,” Tav responded. “And I appreciate you loaning me the room.”

She waited for him to leave.

She expected him to leave.

Oh no.

He wasn’t leaving.

“Aren’t you leaving?” she questioned, intending on taking advantage of his offer to stay and use the room’s bath and bed.

“Leave? And miss the sight of you bathing? I think not.”

She flushed. 

“Ah.” Tav peered at the bath, then back at Raphael. “You’re not planning on joining me are you?”

He smiled devilishly. “Would you like me to?”

Yes.

“No, that’s alright.” Tav went to the bath and began to shed her pack and gear. When it came time to remove her boots, she decided to test the waters by turning the act of undressing into a show. She sat upon the bath’s edge and, with deliberate slowness, gracefully peeled away her footwear. “Are the flower petals your idea or are they an added flourish from the staff?”

“Do you like them?”

“I do.”

“They are my personal touch - just for you.”

The expression she threw at him while she undressed was filled with skepticism.

“You can stop trying to charm me, Raphael. The contract is done, you got what you wanted, and I’m in the middle of taking my clothes off.” Somewhere along the way her voice became decidedly more… seductive. “I wouldn’t normally allow you to watch the latter, but it’s conjecture to think that you’ve already seen me naked.”

It was thrilling to see that she enthralled him just as much as the Crown of Karsus. He was silent, his eyes blazing as he watched her stand and push her breeches down. Tav’s thumbs next hooked into the top of her panties and she slowly, teasingly, shimmied the undergarment past her thighs. They pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of them and her breeches, pushing both aside to be with the rest of her stripped attire.

He could not yet see her sex, as it was hidden by her tunic, but the shirt was soon gracefully pulled over her head and thrown onto the pile.

Raphael visibly swallowed.

Tav reached around to undo the fastenings of her brasserie. The undergarment went slack, and she quickly held the front to her with a hand before it could fall away.

She turned to face the bathwater and discarded the top with a flick of the wrist. 

The cambion let out a low hum. Whether in approval of seeing her bare backside or in disapproval or not seeing her nude state in its entirety, she couldn’t tell.

“Was this your plan?” Tav asked innocently as she bravely stepped into the steaming water. It was hot - excessively hot, but after waging and winning a war against a Netherbrain, after spending too long in the cold Chionthar, and after completing a deal with a devil…

It was heaven.

“What plan are you speaking of, my dear? I have many.”

Tav waded to the center of the bath, water rippling up to her thighs. She glanced at the cambion from over her shoulder with a smirk, and then rotated to give him a full-frontal view.

A deep-rooted hunger befell Raphael, and Tav mentally marked a point under her name: where the Crown failed in fully arousing him, she succeeded.

“When I sent my message to you, you sounded insistent on meeting here and advised that I shouldn’t tarry. You could have come to the docks, which, by the sound of things, you were fond of doing.” Tav lowered into the water while wincing and biting her lip at the temperature. “I was going to accuse you of wanting me smelly and exhausted so you could easily persuade me to take a bath as you watched, but, now that I’m thinking about it, I do recall there being a full bath and a smattering of flower petals when I initially met you here and signed the contract. Who was the bath for then? Voss? My companions and I?”

“I was merely setting the scene for my most important client of the day! I would never go to such efforts for Voss, nor your companions - nor for any other mortal whose name is but a tiny drop in the ocean of souls I’ve collected. It was all for you, Little Mouse.” Raphael crept towards the bath - a predator moving in on his prey. “Today I wished again to set the scene - with a reward. Now that you are without your troublesome friends and an even more troublesome tadpole, you can relax and enjoy without impediment! Soak, my dear! Soak and be content in your hard-earned and well-deserved bath, then off to bed with you…”

Tav reached for a fresh bar of soap that smelled distinctly like cherries and she ran it across her chest after wetting it. She batted eyelashes that suddenly felt heavy due to the talk of bed.

“Are you going to tuck me in, Raphael?”

His chuckle was downright sinful.

“Yes, I’ll even read you a bedtime story.”

“Oh?” Tav languidly rubbed aromatic suds into her skin. “What’s the story about?”

His eyes followed her hands.

“A fox who secured all that he wanted.”

Tav smiled and she briefly submerged herself.

“Did the fox secure the woods?” she asked after breaking through the water’s surface.

“He did, and the neighboring woods.”

She placed the bar of soap back onto the edge, and Tav scratched at her scalp and combed fingers through her hair.

“I presume he secured the animals inside of the woods as well?”

“Every single one.”

She made a point to stare into brown, dilated eyes.

“Including the mouse?”

“You’re going to spoil the story for yourself…”

It was at that moment that a yawn formed in her throat. She did her best to ignore the symptom of drowsiness (things were becoming interesting), but the yawn was persistent enough to force an escape. Tav covered what she could, but it was the kind of yawn that made her eyes water. When she blearily looked at the cambion, the desire on his face had been replaced with warm humor.

“I was wondering how long you would be able to keep your guise up,” he remarked.

Another smaller and shorter yawn broke through.

“Finish up,” Raphael ordered, and he walked away - disappearing to the other half of the room.

Tav complied. She rinsed out her hair, finished scrubbing in all the necessary places, and by the time she was done, Raphael had returned. He held out a plush red towel for her to take when she moseyed to the bath’s edge and climbed out.

“Thanks,” Tav said, fighting back what could possibly be an endless string of yawns. The towel was soft and thick, smelled like Raphael, and she made a note to steal it in the morning as she wrung out her hair and dried herself off.

“I won’t miss it,” Raphael said knowingly.

“How - I don’t steal everything, you know,” she scoffed.

“I am aware.”

Tav made a new mental note - to not steal the towel in the morning.

Sufficiently dried, she cheekily dropped the towel to the floor and peered at a bed that had been prepped for sleeping.

The urge to sprint and throw herself into the covers was extinguished when she was unexpectedly scooped up by arms and swept off her feet.

“This is becoming ridiculous,” Tav muttered. Despite her tone, and against her better judgment, she foolishly liked the feeling of being held by the cambion - the feeling of his hands on her...

“Did you not ask to be tucked in?” Raphael retorted, carrying her naked body up the couple steps that led to the bedroom portion of the suite.

She was too tired to think of a witty comeback, so Tav stayed silent while Raphael transferred her over to the bed.

“What do you normally sleep in, Little Mouse?”

Usually just her smallclothes.

Tav glanced up at him. “I sleep naked, of course.”

His eyes flared, and she could read that he wanted to do far more than simply tuck her in.

He gently laid her upon the satin bedding. A fluffy pillow was beneath her head, and the sheets were smooth against her skin. Raphael reached over to draw the top sheet and comforter over her, and Tav was enveloped by heavenly, toasty warmth.

“Would it be possible to have the room for the next day or two?” she murmured, making herself snug under the covers.

Her eyes closed as the fox smiled brightly.

“Oh, my Little Mouse, stay as long as you’d-”

And she was out.

[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~!

=======

♡ 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~

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

An Agreement

Tav finally gets tired of Raphael's meddling, and proposes a solution.

‘Must you torment me?’ Tav asked, her eyes adjusting in the darkness of the Elfsong to find Raphael perched at the end of her bed, watching her. He was silent and calm, unsurprised to find her awake.

‘You were tossing and turning,’ he said softly. ‘Bad dream?’

‘No.’ It was a lie, and he knew it.

‘Little mouse, why try to lie? You know I will just see right through it.’

‘Because I don’t confide in the likes of you,’ she hissed, suddenly incensed. ‘Bugger off. I need sleep.’

Raphael smirked, his eyes sweeping the otherwise empty room. ‘Everyone else is gone. That seems a little unusual for you, no?’

Her eyes widened and she sat up to check; he was right. ‘The hells did you do with them, Raphael?’ Her bright eyes narrowed to slits. She struggled out of the covers, grateful for her soft pyjamas, and stood. ‘I swear, if-’

‘Relax,’ he held up a hand, his tone indulgent. ‘Your little friends are safe. I’ve just…’ he waved a hand, ‘popped them into a pocket dimension for a little while. It’s been impossible to get you alone, you know. You’re always flanked by your faithful dogs. I do so much prefer cats.’

‘What do you want.’ It was flat. A statement, not a question. She wasn’t curious, just wanted him gone, and if he said his piece, well…

‘I must torment you,’ he said, eyes boring into hers. ‘Isn’t it love, to think of someone? Even if, as you are wont to do, you spit venom when you speak of me? Are you not bored?’ At this he stood, gripped her shoulders and glared down at her. ‘You could reach such greatness. But you will insist on doing the acceptable thing, the virtuous thing. You fear so much, your own darkness most of all. But I see it, little mouse. I see you. I do not flinch. But they would if they knew, wouldn’t they?’

‘No.’ She tried to extricate herself from his grip, but he was too strong. ‘I never forget what you are, Raphael. You can flounce around in your human guise all you like but you can’t fool me. You’re not kind, devil.’

He sighed, and changed. He gained about a foot in height, his wings filling her peripheral vision. ‘I won’t resort to cruelty, not with you. Come to dinner. To my House of Hope. Meet Haarlep. I’m sure you will get along famously. I don’t want to trick you. I don’t want to hurt you, far from it. Your pesky little companions are one thing, but you…’ he tilted his head. ‘You hold a fascination for me I have not felt since Hope herself.’

‘Pretty words. But I doubt they’re true.’

‘Please.’ Tav blinked. He sounded utterly sincere for once.

‘If I have dinner with you…’ You won’t leave me alone ever again.

‘I will do everything in my power to help you with your little problem,’ he said, tapping her on the forehead with a claw. ‘You have my word.’

‘And what’s a devil’s word worth?’

‘A devil’s word is law,’ he said seriously. ‘Of course.’

‘I want it in writing. You promise, and you sign it, and then I’ll consider it.’

He snapped his fingers, a quill and parchment materialising. ‘Let’s see. I the undersigned do solemnly swear upon my own treasures and the souls bound to me that-’

‘Swear on your own soul,’ she said bluntly. ‘You have one.’

Raphael watched her shrewdly, mouth quirking in what might have been the beginnings of a smile. He's impressed. ‘Very well. I swear upon my own soul to aid my darling little mouse in her quest to rid herself of the tadpole, and will not rest until it is completed and it has been removed so she is free to live her remaining years.  In return, she will accompany me to dinner in my House of Hope, and…’ he glanced at her again, ‘any other consensual meeting thereafter.’

‘Fine.’

He signed it and showed her the contract. She signed it, and it poofed away. ‘Stored safely, I assure you.’

‘Clever. If I want to amend it I have to come and see you.’

‘Is that such a hardship?’ he asked innocently. ‘I must have time to prepare. I will see you soon, you can be certain of that, little mouse.’

With that, he was gone, her companions restored to their beds. Tav retreated to her own. her gut tying itself into knots.

Tags:

@forget-me-maybe @poetryvampire @sasha199 @wandawillow

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard

@netherese0rb @crimson-and-lavender @reeseykins @medra-gonbites

@roguishcat @weaverofnetheril @galedekarioswifey @hyperfixationstation128 @lastlight-inn

@astarryvamp @feedthepheasants @dabigstinky @dreamingofthewild @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

[smallpeniscollective]

Sending this BG3 idea to a bunch of different blogs to see what they do with it: Tav uses edging and/or orgasm denial on Raphael to get him to give her the hammer without giving him the crown. (I hope you enjoy!)

I personally feel like he doesn’t really let other people control him sexually, he’s pretty much an established control freak (like even when he bottoms for haarlep, he’s still in control of the situation)

BUT!! this did inspire me to write this itty bitty blurb for u guys, in which raphael uses your attraction to him as means to get you to sign his contract ;)

Content: pov/2nd person, afab body parts, use of Tav in place of Y/N, some fondling

*~*~*

He stalked around you, stopping somewhere outside of your peripheral view. Your heart was beating out of your chest, thunder in your ears and sedative in your veins as you stood inhumanly still.

There was no doubt that he was aware of the effect he had on you; he picked up on your telltale signs of attraction the second you laid eyes on him on that bridge near the goblin camp. Your flushed cheeks, your unsteady breaths, the way your eyes never left him when he was in the presence of your group.

Being part devil required the ability to detect weakness in potential clients; it was his duty to notice the way your thighs clenched when he spoke. Truth be told, he would add a heavier hint of gravel to his tone when speaking with you. All to his benefit, of course. Since you had declined his first attempt to strike a deal when he originally offered to remove the tadpole, he had no choice but to play into your dreadfully mortal game of hopeless romanticism.

But undeniably, this game was certainly entertaining.

And now, you stood alone with a devil in quite the romantic scene that was the Devil's Den in the Sharess' Caress, trying so hard to not give in to his offer. It was almost cute the way you so obviously denied to yourself your attraction to him.

When he finally spoke again, you gasped at his closeness, that deliciously low voice rumbling in your ear. Goosebumps raised on the delicate skin of your neck, your head tilting in an automatic movement to create some semblance of space between his lips and your ear. "Perhaps it is more than just the Hammer that you desire from me, hmm?"

"I don't want anything from you," you replied. Your attempt to sound calm and collected was futile; you spoke breathlessly, lips remaining parted as your breathing became heavier.

"Even if you refuse to admit your desire, your body gives away your secret," he murmured, letting his nose brush against the highly sensitive skin behind your ear in a calculated move to further crack your already-fragmented sense of self-control. He smirked to himself when he received his desired reaction, the faint scent of arousal blossoming from your frail, easily-overpowered human body.

"I—"

His hands on your body interrupt your train of thought, landing on your clothed waist with a teasingly gentle caress. How he wished he was in his true cambion form, to loom over you and rake his claws across your malleable skin, of which no doubt would leave his marks on you. The thought of marking you as his own brought out something possessive in him, something that started to blur the line between this carefully crafted game and his own personal desire.

Yet, his eyes remained on his well-deserved prize. He must have you contracted to give him the Crown. He must.

"Make the deal, sweet pet. And in return, you will have the Oprhic Hammer and what we both know you desire most." He spoke into the skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His hands, large and oh-so-warm hands, crept underneath the layer of your shirt, setting your nerves ablaze wherever his skin met yours.

You had so bravely battled against unimaginable foes, yet when it came to desire, your strong will was mere putty in his devilish hands.

As soon as his ascending touch brushed against the underside of your breasts, your body acted of its own volition, arching into his touch, your back finally making contact with his broad chest. Heat radiated from him, even through his clothes, even in his human façade, and the feel of it was addicting.

The way you shivered against him had his own mind beginning to reel, filling with plans upon plans on how he'd make you squirm so desperately beneath him. But with a forceful squint of his eyes, he banished those thoughts. The only thing that mattered to him now was the deal.

"Just sign the contract," he almost-whispered before laying his open mouth against your neck, gently swiping his hot tongue on your soft skin. As his mouth made work of your neck, one of his hands fully cupped your breast and swiped a thumb over your stiffened nipple, eliciting a breathy whimper from you.

"R-Raphael..."

His tool to obtain his power, his little mouse, whimpering his name so tenderly burned into his mind, almost overpowering his need for control, almost making him lose control of himself. Giving in just a little, his other hand dropped to the waistband of your trousers, tracing patterns in the heated skin above the place you craved being touched the most while the rest of his arm held you tighter against his chest.

You began to piece together his budding mutual desire for you as well when you felt a clothed growing erection against your backside.

Perhaps there was a way to get what you needed and what you wanted without signing away your soul.

[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]

This is also me shamelessly submitting another request alongside my very NSFW one: could we get Raphael being there while Tav gives birth?

Read on AO3

-

Tav paced back and forth, hands resting on her swollen belly. Each time a contraction tore through her she would grimace, bend forward as much as possible, and bear it with whatever dignity she scrounged up. When the pain passed, she’d resume pacing.

“Mistress,” said the Infernal physician, “perhaps you should lay down -”

“No,” barked Tav. “I don’t want to lay down.”

“So you intend to wear a trench into my floors instead?” Drawled Raphael.

“Yes,” replied Tav, glaring daggers at him.

“Mistress,” the physician tried again, “it would be easier for both you and the child if you -”

“I’m not bloody laying down,” growled Tav. “I’ve been laying down for the last three months of pregnancy. I need to move around or I’m going to cut this baby out of my stomach myself.”

“You won’t change her mind,” Raphael said lightly, “she’s a stubborn creature. She’ll do things her way until she simply cannot any longer.”

The physician sighed, rubbing her eyes.

Tav’s waters had broken several hours ago – much to poor Haarlep’s horror. Raphael was away on business at the time, but as soon as word reached him that his first offspring was about to be born, he’d burst back into the house, physician in tow. The birthing room had been ready for a few days, Tav slightly exceeding her due date, so the three had sequestered inside. Now it was simply a waiting game. The physician hovered nearby. Raphael sat in a plush, comfy chair, seeming to all the world as indifferent and relaxed as usual. Only the occasional twitch of his tail gave away his potential anxiety.

It felt like the entire House of Hope, even every wailing soul within the walls, were holding their breaths. Teetering on the edge of anticipation for the ushering in of a new era: the birth of a prince.

“Ah…!” Tav stopped in her tracks. Hissed as fresh, furious pain wracked her. Different, sharper than before. It didn’t fade. “I think…argh, I think he’s coming…!”

The physician touched Tav’s belly, felt lower, between her thighs. “Yes. You’re open enough. I feel his head. You need to get into the water.”

The physician helped Tav out of her sweat-soaked nightdress and in to the bathing pool of hot water. Raphael watched intently, his onyx and ember eyes never blinking, as Tav – teeth gritted – eased herself into a sitting position, knees up and apart. The water and its soothing magic helped, but the baby wanted out, now. Demanding, just like his father, and damn was she feeling it.

“Gods…he finally decides he’s ready and he’s just going to…to rip right through me…” Tav panted. Curled her fists. Cried out as a violent contraction signalled the end, and the beginning.

“Start pushing,” instructed the physician. Tav groaned, a sound that morphed into a dull scream. Raphael stood up, crossed the room, standing close. His tail thrashed wildly but his expression remained neutral. Tav gave him a foul, pained look.

“This is your fault,” she snarled, slapping her palms on the sides of the bath. “I’ll kill you for this, I swear it.”

“Of course you will, darling,” purred Raphael.

He was not indifferent to her suffering, she knew. Part of him enjoyed it. That she was agonising to bring their – his – son into life only made her pain taste sweeter. It was the simple truth of Raphael’s nature. Something Tav had accepted long ago. Birthing this baby was the scariest thing she’d ever done, scarier than coming to terms with how she felt for a diabolical devil, that she was willing to give him her soul and her heart. Even facing down the Netherbrain didn’t compare. She was hurting and she was frightened, but Raphael was there, strong and assured and steady, and Tav knew she could get through it.

Not without one Hell of a fuss, however.

“GET THIS DAMN THING OUT OF ME!” She bellowed between screams.

“Keep pushing!” Yelled the physician.

“What do you think I’m doing?!” Tav roared back.

“Push, Tav,” Raphael intoned. Commanded. “Let our son’s life begin.”

Eventually, amidst the blood and pain and chaos, it did. A wrinkled, wet and wailing infant was placed on Tav’s chest and she, exhausted and delirious, loved him instantly and irrevocably.

“Healthy,” declared the physician, “and strong. Very strong.”

Tav tiredly adjusted her baby, who latched onto her nipple and began to suckle. His thin, ropey little tail curled. Raphael looked down at them, smug and preening with pride. He would never be the type to offer her his hand to squeeze for comfort, or become overly emotional and adoring of his new son, but he was there. He stayed. And those things mattered more to Tav than her pride would ever let her admit.