#sneaky haarlep

[hrefna-the-raven]

Hope in hell

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Part 1 - Drunken minds speak sober hearts

Words: 2138

Warnings: smut (18+)

Summary: The dreaded morning after ;)

Raphael let out a groan, his head pounding like a piece of metal relentlessly being hammered into shape by the most skilled dwarven blacksmiths, the constant painful throbbing clouding his memories, making it difficult to piece together the events of last night, despising how he felt like a common mortal after a night's out. He attempted to sit up but froze as he felt something soft resting on his chest, accompanied by a comforting warmth. Taking a deep breath, he glanced down and let out a sigh, his heart suddenly feeling heavy. Haarlep must have slept with you, assumed your form and then... his eyes shot wide open and he muttered a curse under his breath as fragments of the previous night's memories flickered through his mind.

That damned incubus got him drunk and then you showed up and... His hands delicately traced the contours of your slumbering figure. It was truly you, his beloved little mouse, curled up against his chest. His heart raced, a twinge of pain accompanying the rapid beats, as he pondered how to proceed. What clever remark would he throw at you once you woke up? Would he even need one? Would you recoil and attempt to flee from the sight of the devil beneath you? He didn't get enough time to find an answer to all his questions as you slowly stirred awake, your eyes were still closed as you lazily stretched and your hips accidentally brushed against his growing arousal.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest, causing you to quickly raise your head and look at him, eyes wide with surprise. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, swirling in chaotic circles, expecting to be scolded, pushed away, or even punished. But to your astonishment, nothing happened. You still remained lying there, on top of him, silently gazing into each other's eyes, both afraid that any spoken word might shatter the peaceful and loving moment you were sharing. But the silence grew heavy and a sense of unease slowly crawled up your spine, threatening to consume both your thoughts and body. It was unusual to witness Raphael in such a state of quietude, after all that happened, it didn't sit right with you that he was so calm, devoid of any movement or speech. It almost seemed as if Haarlep had managed to shatter him completely, that one evening of unfiltered truth had stripped away every trace of his self-centered arrogance, leaving him exposed and vulnerable before you. You were the first to ever glimpse at the raw essence of Raphael's entire being and, despite your constant cat and mouse game, you felt no desire to exploit it; on the contrary, you cherished this side of him, the devil laid bare, and at this very moment, you yearned to love him more than ever.

"About last night-"

"I feel the same!", you interjected, cutting off Raphael mid-sentence, "but if you..."

Any further words you were about to utter were engulfed by a provocative moan as you sensed his growing arousal pressed firmly against your hips the moment you attempted to readjust your position. Raphael's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth hanging open, unable to withstand the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over him.

"To hell with this, I want you!", the words escaped your lips almost simultaneously, filled with an urgent longing.

Raphael snapped his fingers, and in an instant, both yours and his clothes disappeared. He pulled you towards him so swiftly that you had to clutch onto his horns to prevent yourself from toppling over. As his mouth met your dripping folds, you couldn't help but whimper. It was at this moment that you realised how much of the Raphael you came to know was still present. The damned devil teased you with the anticipation of his hot tongue caressing your arousal but you simply wouldn't have it, not now. You lowered your hips, grinding gently against his face, yearning for any kind of friction. His claws dug into the tender flesh of your thighs, firmly keeping you in place.

"My little mouse", the devil chuckled, "so eager to be eaten."

With a tantalising slowness, he dragged his tongue through the delicate contours of your folds, briefly encircling your clit before sucking on it with an insatiable hunger. The air was filled with the intoxicating symphony of your sinful moans and your grip around his horns instinctively tightened. This was a desire that had consumed your thoughts for countless nights, the fantasy of being pleasured by your very own devil. And now, as it finally became a reality, you couldn't hold anything back. The intensity of your climax approached rapidly and just as you were about to reach its peak, his licks ceased. Frustration welled up within you, ready to protest, but then he pressed his tongue flat against your throbbing clit while simultaneously thrust two of his large fingers deep inside you. The rhythmic pumping intensified, driving you towards the edge once more. Within mere moments, your inner walls clenched around his fingers and you experienced a mind-shattering orgasm, screaming his name in ecstasy.

With an unexpected tenderness, he released his grip on your hips and gently cradled you in his arms, carefully laying you down on the bed beside him. His face turned towards you, his eyes filled with love as he gazed upon your blissful expression. As soon your eyes met his, he understood that there would be no turning back anymore, he was in love with this fragile mortal and he would curse himself to an eternity of anguish if he'd deny himself the bliss of your love. The hells and all its devils be damned, he would see that you'd remain at his side for as long as you'd live.

"You now know about my best kept secret", he whispered, as if afraid that any disruption would shatter the fragile balance, "and rest assured my feelings for you will not easily waver. However this is hell and I'm not just any devil but the son of Mephistopheles, I, I can't", he faltered, uncertain of how to proceed as it felt wrong, for the first time in his existence, to utter those words.

"You can't show weakness to others, you can't show your love to me", you offered, the pain your voice obvious.

You turned your eyes away, unable to bear the increasing sorrow, but his hands swiftly moved to cradle your face, redirecting your focus back to him.

"If you're willing to stay by my side despite the laws of the nine hells working against us, I will vow my love to you within my House of Hope for as often as you desire it and I promise you that beyond these walls, I will always treat you with utmost respect and defend your honour, for you will be the lady of this house", he paused briefly, attempting to discern your reaction before continuing, "if you'd be willing."

His words left you in astonishment as you blinked. Did he truly express his desire to commit to you, vowing to cherish and safeguard you? It was a proposal you should have considered longer before answering, yet your body instinctively reacted before your mind could fully comprehend the situation. You crawled towards him, pushing him down on his back as you straddled him, gently, to not hurt his wings before you leaned down, capturing his lips in a fervent embrace. Raphael moaned your name as he felt you positioning his hardening member at your entrance, sinking down on him just enough for the tip to enter. His hands found your hips, holding you in place momentarily as he broke the kiss.

"What are you doing?"

"We're not done until we both had our fair share of pleasure", you breathed as you sank down on him, swallowing a moan, "besides shouldn't the lady of the house keep her man satisfied?"

Raphael's smile widened as he guided your motions, starting off slowly and then picking up speed. Feral growls escaped his lips as he he could feel himself approaching the peak of his own pleasure fast. He had been intimate with many throughout the decades, including Haarlep, a being existing ultimately to provide pleasure, but there was something special about you. The closeness, the shared emotions, the intimacy - all of his previous encounters paled in comparison to the connection he felt with you in this very moment. But you felt just as good, riding a devil, having his cock buried deep down inside you, filling you up perfectly while hitting that sweet spot over and over again, transforming this sinful act into something heavenly. The feeling of pure bliss cursed through your whole body as you moved your hips in a perfect rhythm, the heated embrace of desire and lust unleashed as both of toppled over the edge. In this moment of tenderness and passion, it was clear that your connection went beyond physical pleasure. It was a union of souls, an experience that transcended mere satisfaction. 

"Raphael", you moaned loudly as your walls clenched around his cock, feeling it twitched as his seed spilled inside you.

Both of you panted heavily, a contented smile playing at the edges of your lips as the devil sat up, his arms wrapping around you to pull you into a tight embrace.

"I love you", he whispered tenderly, chuckling as you hummed your consent, too spent to utter a word.

"Oh my, what a perfectly delicious sight", a familiar voice chuckled, drawing nearer.

Your eyes snapped open and you blinked in disbelief as you spotted Astarion standing in the boudoir, bearing a smug grin as he observed the two of you with obvious amusement.

"Astarion?!", you shrieked, scrambling off Raphael, hastily covering your exposed form with the silk blanket to hide both your nakedness and your embarrassment from your companion. The vampire merely chuckled, his gaze shifting between you and the devil.

"Guess again, little mouse", the pale elf playfully teased, giving you a sly wink, his crimson eyes glowing up for just a second, "it seems my plan worked rather well."

Before you had a chance to fully comprehend who was standing before you, Raphael, still unclothed, swiftly leapt out of bed and lunged towards the elf. His fingers clenched tightly around Haarlep's throat, exerting a dangerous pressure. You wanted to scream, to implore Raphael to stop, but Haarlep calmly transformed into his master's form, causing Raphael to immediately release his grip on the incubus' throat.

"You wretched creature!", Raphael spat, "you poisoned me! Do NOT forget your place in this house, slave!"

Instinctively, you retreated further onto the bed, clutching the blanket tightly as sudden fear surged through you. You had witnessed many facets of Raphael's personality, but this seething rage terrified you beyond measure, especially coming from the same being who had cradled you tenderly just moments before but a part of you also understood his anger.

"You misunderstood, my dear master, my intent was never to poison you. I simply intended to", the incubus gestured towards you, "enhance your chances with your favourite misadventurer, all in your best interest I assure you."

Raphael was fuming, wishing he could obliterate Haarlep into countless fragments. However, he recognised that he couldn't afford to destroy such a gift from his father, at least not yet, and deep down Raphael knew that the incubus was right, without his involvement, last night and this morning wouldn't have unfolded so magnificently. Haarlep, of course, fully grasped the advantage he currently held over his master and decided to push his luck even further, knowing that such a perfect opportunity would not present itself again in the near future.

"If you'll excuse me", he hummed while transforming back to Astarion's form, "I have to get back to my new, rather passionate, lover. It's quite nice to be in the receiving end for once."

He gave you a sly wink and blew a quick kiss your way before disappearing once again, leaving you alone with the annoyed devil.

Rising to your feet, you cautiously approached Raphael, still wrapped in the warmth of a blanket. Your fingertips lightly traced along the edges of his magnificent wings as you circled around him.

"Why not free the incubus from his duties?", you suggested, tugging at his hand and bringing it up to your lips, planting kisses along the inside of his arm, "no more Haarlep means no father watching your every move."

Raphael chuckled, pulling you close and lifting you effortlessly in one swift motion.

"Well, well, my little mouse," he whispered, planting a sweet peck on your lips, "not only are you full of delightful surprises, but it also seems that I couldn't have asked for a more perfect lady of my House of Hope."

Tags:

@dark-and-kawaii

[tarysande]

I feel like there’s definitely a fic in here somewhere.

I am finally doing the House of Hope quest

And my druid’s like “okay fine I’ll play your little game whatever they’re just boobs”

And Astarion is like “hmm, usually when she goes along with—okay she’s naked, that’s new—it’s because she wants me to sneak around and steal stuff while the other guy’s distracted—like, so distracted I picked his nonexistent pocket—okay, she’s naked and the INCUBUS IS DEMANDING HER BODY AND SOUL AND YOU KNOW WHAT? NO. NOPE. no one demands bodies or souls around here and gets away with it”

—and then Astarion, who is a terrifying sneaky murder tank that can kill ALL THE THINGS and out-tanks all my tanks, demolished Haarlep down to like, 10HP in one turn, and Karlach basically looked at Haarlep funny on her turn and he dropped dead before he could so much as think about calling backup

And no one talked about it at all

[pursuitseternal]

Wip Wednesday Poll🖋️

It’s that time of week for what’s cooking in the Pursuit’s library of porn…

“Unholier:” Return of Dawnmaster Ancunín, priestarion— blood play, corruption, piv this time

“Take the Throne:” AA and Consort, vampire masquerade, bad behavior, punishment and reward and public displays

“A secret third thing:” Act 3 UA Astarion x f!reader—kinky magic, implied break up, first time as a couple

“A Night with the Ascendant:” seduction and slow(er) burn, back stories revealed, dancing and drama for Lord Astarion and Lady Lumina

“Our Blood: Liars’ Night:” mission impossible style, Cordy and Astarion are prepared to enter into danger, disguises, banter, humor, Gale and his tressym… and a stolen moment for the vampire menaces behind closed doors.

“Seven Devilish Sins: Gluttony:” Tav (Reader) develops a unique hunger, thanks for the Incubus’ spittle in her system. And it’ll take more than one Cambion to sate it…(it’s cum… that’s what’s on the menu, I hope that was clear)

Tagging (to share a wip if ya want): @nyx-knox @charmandabear @astarionancuntnin @marlowethebard @snowfolly @tragedybunny @roguishcat @pinkberrytea

[dark-and-kawaii]

Wait, you were the one who screamed Haarlep? Brb rewatching the archived vod. I remember someone being the loudest when Haarlep popped up, who knew it was you! Glad to have seen you in the stream!

……. I-I was….. wait….. wat *goes and looks*

*legit me right now* ^

Yup…. There I am…. Oh my god *facepalm*

I had no idea you could go back and look at the freaking chat.

YOU’RE TELLING ME IM THERE FOREVER AND NOT HIDDEN IN THE SHADOWS!?!? So much for being a sneaky little mouse.

Hahaha <3 I was happy to be there!! Hopefully you enjoyed the stream as much as I Anon!!! Maybe I’ll chat more next time, I just get a wee bit nervous (•᷄- •᷅ ;).

- 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒦𝒾𝓌𝒾 𝓍𝑜𝓍𝑜

[mslanna]

All Is Fair In - Well, War

Chapter 8 of Be My Guest now up on AO3

In which I went overboard with poetry (apologies), Haarlep learns that hugs are necessary for human health, and Raphael learns nothing at all

An uneven rhythm settles over the House of Hope. The war has begun in earnest and Raphael's forces move to corner Zariel in her flying fortress. With the number of fiends coming and going undisturbed time with Raphael or Haarlep is rare. And since devils have no need for sleep, the bustling is all around the clock. Tav's mind starts to simmer in anxiety and hyper-vigilance.

"Most of them don't care if I'm around," they complain to Haarlep. "They strut through this place all wings and armoured boots. I may need a sphere of invulnerability. Or my own wings, preferably armoured."

"That opposes the whole point of wings, but do go on." Haarlep lounges on their side, fingers tracing invisible patterns on the silken sheets.

"They make excellent cocoons," Tav insists. "Throw some armour on and they are good protection. Here, a little like that." Tav scoots closer and pulls one of Haarlep's wings over them like a fleshy tent.

"Ah, we don't do that." The incubus retracts their wing and folds it out of reach.

"You don't?"

"No. Whatever gave you that idea."

"Raphael?" Tav ventures.

"What?" The incubus sits up. "As if he wrapped a wing around you to keep you out of reach from one his underlings?"

When Tav turns red instead of answering, Haarlep claps their hand in delight and croons:. "Oooh, he is smitten!"

"Well, if he is, he has a strange way of showing it," Tav grumbles.

"My dear, you may have a rather distorted idea about how devils go about something that may resemble affection. We are creatures of pain and suffering. We strive only to better our own positions. Everything that falls outside of those parameters is affection."

For a moment Tav imitates a surprised fish. In the end they close their mouth and look down at their hands. "Translation to other species is lousy, just saying. And you are not helping."

"Or course not. We are all grown adults here. Not to mention the show is absolutely entertaining and has so many benefits."

"Well, at least one person in this house benefits from it," Tav huffs.

"I am torn, my dear, I truly am. As much as I love to see our poor master suffer like that, I also hate to see you this dejected." Haarlep puts a finger under Tav's chin and raises their head. "Maybe I can find a truly delicious way to give you want without involving him."

Tav snorts. "You can always start with a hug."

"Oh, but for certain." Haarlep opens their arms. "I am all yours."

Tav climbs into the embrace, rests their face against the incubus' shoulder and for a moment, all is well. But soon sneaky fingers slither over Tav's shoulders, writing fiery lines over their clothes.

"No, none of that," Tav mumbles. They squirm but Haarlep takes their job of holding them very seriously.

"But why not," they whisper into Tav's ear. "That is where all the fun is."

"I'm not here for fun, Haarps." Tav manages to push a way a little. "At least not that kind of fun."

"What is in it for you then?" The incubus tilts their head. "And for me?"

"Well. Humans need contact; we're very social. We become unhappy and languish when we are isolated. And I am rather isolated here as you might have noticed." Tav leans back against the incubus. "Hugs are healthy."

"Is that so." Haarlep adjusts a careful grip around the human in their arms. "And what do I get?"

"Another thing to rub Raphael's nose in should he ever notice," Tav mumbles. "Plus, excellent new data on how to seduce a human extended edition - hugs can last for days."

"Never lost for words," Haarlep chuckles. "I see why he likes you. Now you just have to speak the same language."

Tav doesn't point out that learning infernal is very difficult when all you have is books and random fiends that don't slow down and also use vocabulary not listed in the beginner editions.

"That's why you're doing the song and dance thing with me, too, isn't?" They ask instead. "Because Raphael likes those and I am sharing them with you."

"Of course," the incubus agrees readily. "He has a love for words and musics, he has. Raphael frequents the opera houses of many planes, a true patron of the arts."

"And I am sharing this with you."

"Delicious and true." Haarlep tightens their hold. "But nobody forces Raphael to stay away. You are a guest in his very own house, ready to give him anything he asks for."

"He doesn't strike me as the asking type," Tav grumbles.

"He is certainly not. Which makes this all so very delicious." A wing closes around Tav. "Such a naughty little mousling. And since you are hells bent on being bad, so shall I. How is your health?"

"Much improved," Tav mumbles. It's not even a lie. They feel safe and for once, actually welcome and wanted in this house. "Give me five minutes and I should be ready for rehearsal."

# # #

Five minutes stretch out until Haarlep shakes Tav awake because their services are required. The paladin stumbles out of the boudoir, rubbing their eyes. They are just getting their bearings back when Raphael crosses their path.

"On time, I see." He gestures towards the balcony overseeing the Feast Hall.

Tav smiles despite the small desperation forming in their stomach. They slept longer than they thought and now it was too late to get some dinner into their belly before the wine-doused bickering session with Raphael. But the hells will fall before they let this part of their day slip.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Tav leads the way and slips into their comfortable chair. They pour the prepared wine, a blanc de noire that smells like soaked cherries and gooseberries. It will be difficult not to indulge. Raphael is getting their taste in wines down pat.

They watch the devil over the rim of their glass. The straight line of his thin lips curving gently upwards when Raphael catches them stare. Tav returns the smile, unable to rip their eyes away. The candlelight softens the harsh planes of Raphael's face. The hint of a five-o'clock shadow hugs his jaw. Tav wonders how it would feel to put the tip of their index finger into the shallow dent in the devil's chin.

"Anything in particular you want to discus ere we begin?" The words run smoothly from his lips.

There are many things Tav has on their mind but none seem wise to disclose. So they shake their head and reach for one of the books. "I am sure your questionable choices in literature will be enough to fill the evening."

"My choices are questionable?" Raphael stretches his legs and leans back. "I cannot remember losing a single argument against your rather poor interpretations."

"Because your memory sucks," Tav murmurs under their breath.

"I heard that but I will choose to ignore it."

Tav looks up. "No stomach for a fight this early?"

"I prefer your ramblings slightly intoxicated," Raphael agrees. "They are much more unhinged and entertaining that way. Not to mention, easier to lay waste."

"Doesn't make your old-fart traditionalist approach any more palatable."

"I pick my battles," the smile is deceptively gently. "And I pick the ones I will win."

Tav takes a provocative sip of their wine. If Raphael wants unhinged and intoxicated, he can get it. He can get a lot actually, too bad he doesn't want any. They grab the closest book and open a random page.

Time and wine do their job and flush Tav's face and belly with cosy warmth. Raphael watches as those eyes soften and let go of whatever fight it is Tav continuously carries with them. Less conscious of the world and themself, Tav's motions are far flung and slightly clunky. As if the tight control over their limbs left them unsure of what to do without it.

Now and then Tav bounces some body part against the table top or leg and frowns as if the piece of furniture hadn't been there the whole time. And while their words are less polished and the sentences janky, it is easier to see the vast mind behind them, working overdrive to connect to the world on the other side of Tav's head.

If Tav knows, they don't show. The change is slow like a sunrise: the single shades easy to miss, but unmistakable in its entirety. As Tav takes another sip of the carefully chosen wine, Raphael picks his next fight.

"It is cowardice in the end. The narrator doesn't take responsibility for their meandering and self-inflicted misery."

"Still caution," Tav counters and prods the open page with a finger. "They value their friendship and are not willing to give it up, not even for their own happiness."

"And where exactly-"

"Here: O ay, my friend, I watch you still, afar to silence sworn. I wish to say, I stopped myself, but I am much too torn to leave or speak or even seek a glance falling my way and yet I'm bound and cannot run and cannot even stay-" Tav recites.

"Self-made torment," Raphael repeats. "People are excellent at creating unnecessary hells for themselves. Why swear yourself to silence when words can easily resolve the problem?"

"Because friendship." Tav shakes their head. "Worst thing to lose. All the trust and care and commitment. Poof, gone."

"So the narrator is justified in pushing their decision onto the object of their affection?" The devil raises an inquiring brow.

"Did you even read the sonnet?" Tav huffs. "Says here

Please stay a while, my favourite smile, now I have come so far just take my hand in foreign land and tell me who we are.

The narrator made their choice. They're all-in deep in love. They leave it to their friend to set the frame of their interactions. Friendship or love. Both are options."

"It is still cowardice."

"Maybe, but to lose what you have for something that can never be hurts. And it is avoidable."

"Self-styled martyrdom. Withholding information on the grounds the other will know if they care and look close enough."

"Do you really think you can be around somebody so desperately in love and not notice?" Tav snorts.

"You forget yourself." The words cut cold thought the warmth cocooning Tav.

"Maybe I do." Tav drains their glass desperate to change the subject. "Do you ever write poetry yourself?"

"Why do you ask?" The words are warmer than the last but wary.

"Because as critics we have it easy, don’t we? There is no danger in taking apart and judging what others have created. But the writers, the poets, they put parts of themselves out in every piece."

"You want to dissect a part of me? Bold."

"That is not-", Tav stops. In a way, that is exactly what they ask. "Point taken."

"So let me ask you," the devil's voice drops, betraying his curiosity, "do you ever write poetry?"

Tav hopes their flaming blush isn't that visible in the dim light. "Everybody does, don't they? I sure did when I was a teenager." The grimace when Tav remembers those attempts is painful.

"And now?" The words are velvet and whisky. He is tempting them.

"Wanna have yourself enshrined in words?" Tav teases.

"No need for something so fancy, which also, I already have."

Spite flickers in Tav. Unwise and born from wine and embarrassment that makes it even less smart. But they already offended their devil. And tomorrow was the final assault on Zariel's flying fortress. They might not see him again. They might find themself waking up in the clutches of Mephistopheles. Was are a few reckless words in comparison?

"There once was a cambion in hell who thought that he was truly swell but if you get close a shortcoming shows as his incubus will surely tell."

Tav leans back and stares a challenge at the devil on the other side of the table.

But Raphael doesn't take offence. He leans back, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Low hanging Fruit. The best you can do?" He doesn't wait for Tav's answer.

"There is a loudmouth from Baldur's Gate who was way too eager and could not wait their turn for a deal their soul now a steal and them bound to a devil they hate."

"Oh, now it's on," Tav huffs. "I was never and in no way eager to deal with any devil."

Raphael raises his glass and sips expectantly. "A notion obviously too complex to fit the chosen form."

For a moment Tav grinds their teeth. But the self-satisfied smile on Raphael’s face eggs them on.

"There is a paladin, oath-bound and pure who had to deal with devils for sure but back-doors rule they are no fool it is the devils that are caught by their allure."

Tav takes a triumphant sip from their own wine. It glows warm in their belly, suffusing their whole body and the surrounding air with a gentle glow.

While they still imagine how Raphael will take their bait and what confession the next limerick may extract from him, the door is opened carefully.

A devil pokes their head in, eyes wide with fear at disturbing the Master of the House even on his own orders. "The last scouts have returned. We are ready."

A vicious smile spreads over Raphael's face, supplanting the indulgent ease. "As you were." He waves the devil away and stands.

"Alas, as much as I enjoyed our little skirmish, my war cannot wait." His hand makes an unresolved gesture in Tav's direction. "And let me know how it goes for your allure to other devils."

His eyes rake over Tav, stripping them for goods worthy of a deal. What the devil sees, seems to satisfy him and he leaves the human shivering in their chair.

Tav stares at the closed door for along time. What in the nine hells was that? And what had been in the wine to loosen their tongue into such a reckless foray? With nobody to see, Tav's face starts to burn. They reach for the almost empty bottle. Something to drown their thoughts with. They head to bed, intending to sleep of the worst of the embarrassment and intoxication.

# # #

Tav wakes and squirms under the blanket, wondering what pulled them from sleep, when they notice the feeling of a ghostly hand that wanders restlessly over their clit. They inhale sharply.

So much for the devil's promises. Worth nothing. The other ghost hand clasps around their shin and Tav can only imagine where Haarlep's leg goes with the insistent friction inside them raking over their every nerve.

Getting up takes concentration. But the more awake they are, the easier the feelings are to push aside. Tav stumbles queasily into the corridor and makes their way haltingly to the boudoir. They will find out who is allowed to break contract like this and then Tav will confront their sleazy devil with his own lies. What good that will do is uncertain. But with the tension rising in their body, so does Tav's determination not to let this slide.

The house is silent. The quiet before the storm. Tav wonders how long they slept. A last meeting and then battle. Was everybody gone already? Tav doesn't meet a soul on their way to the boudoir, even the voyeur debtor is nowhere to be seen. Tav spies a red figure on the bed with Haarlep, wings spread and working. But the fence breaks up all details.

Despite the fiend on the boudoir being obviously deeply engaged, Tav walks slow and quietly. The gurgle of water from the fountains covers their hitching breath. When a moan slips from their lips at an especially spot-on thrust, Tav stops. They shake, but only partly from the fear of being detected and caught.

The fiend has not noticed their presence though, and moves over Haarlep with viscous need. Tav slinks up to the curtain bound back against the wall to peer at the bed. For a moment, their heart freezes. Haarlep writhes on it in Tav's shape with their back arched. Ecstasy is written over their body in sweat and gasping moans. Their hands reach for the fiend working himself hard, one of Haarlep's legs propped up against his chest.

He leans down to capture Haarlep's borrowed mouth with an angry kiss and Tav finally can make out his face.

Raphael.

Tav jerks back behind the curtain. Trapped in place they cannot make their trembling legs move and slowly, their knees give in. With the pressure building inside them, Tav risks a quick scrabble out of sight and curls up behind one of the opulent beds around the pool. They hug themself tightly as Haarlep comes after taking the devil's ferocious climax.

As soon as the waves of second-hand release start to abate, Tav forces themself up into a shuffling run back to their room. Once out of the boudoir they drop all secrecy and sprint as fast as their trembling body allows.

Locking the door won't hold stop Master of the House, but it gives Tav enough security to curl up on their bed and cry unashamed. A tangle of emotions rolls over them suffused with shame of all flavours. Shame at what they witnessed, shame about the relief that is is Raphael himself, shame at the anger that it is Haarlep, shame at the angry knot in their stomach and the yearning wetness between their legs.

A halting hand moves down and shaking fingers slip into hot and empty folds. Tav tries to relieve their unsatisfied body with their own means but the image of Raphael fucking Haarlep in their shape, the utter greed of it, makes fingers a useless substitute. Tav howls their frustration into their pillow and pulls the blanket over their head.

It settles with unusual weight and the ghost of something hard slips up between their thighs. Tav groans, angry and grateful. The devil cannot get enough and this time, this time Tav will make sure they find their own release. Their fingers burrow back between their legs and Tav raises their hips unconsciously when the after-image of a ridged cock presses down.

[bhaalbabebardlock]

~Sunday Snippet~

Thank you @elinorbard for the tag 🫡💕

I'm gonna tag @astarionfreak, @compendiumcal, @ballofbitter and @nyda-the-tav 🫶

This is from the next chapter of the crown (so, spoilers!). See also: Ilara finally gets some answers from someone

“Not exactly,” they replied softly, leaning closer to her. “Raphael needed help after your little act of rebellion. Who better to ask than the person who hates you the most? Willingly or not, the vampire is not your biggest fan. However obsessed with you he might be.”

“Haarlep, what do you mean willingly or not?”

(spoilers under the cut!)

“I only know as much as Raphael knows, pup. And I know that Astarion's anger towards you goes far deeper than you being sneaky and taking what he believes was his. He feels nothing for you but rage. Have you not noticed this? Could you not see? Anyone can see it. Don't tell me you're that… unobservant.” She lifted her hands, pressing them against Haarlep's chest, the blood rushing in her ears. Her voice sounded far away, like it was underwater as she tried to speak.

“Haarlep. What do you mean?”

“His soul, sweetling. It has been.. cut into. Sliced up. All of those warm, fuzzy feelings for you- all but gone.” She blinked up at them slowly, her mind feeling like sludge as she unraveled their words. “The hag,” she breathed, her eyes closing.

[angelicgaming1007]

Octavia raphaels fairy "ex" (I say ex because its complicated technically she is technically she isn't) ANOTHER HEAD CANON

Pre Act 1

Octavia was a warlock, of course since shes a fairy she could only have the archfey as her patron.

She met Raphael during one of the times he got injured battling in Avernus when she was visiting out of sheer curiosity. She took him back to the feywilds to take care of him.

The 2nd time she met him was by accidentally summoning him when trying to summon a familiar. Raphael was annoyed but amused and decided to strike a deal with her.

When asked what she wants Octavia said a friend, Raphael gave the terms of being friends aswell because he "owed her" for saving his life before. But Octavia had to visit him atleast yearly.

They eventually became actual friends and Raphael came to enjoy her presence, she wasn't destructive or chaotic, she was polite every time but also affectionate. She was smart and calculating too so she was able to help him with battle plans.

Raphael and Octavia slowly fell for eachother. They even got married in a non traditional unofficial way. Raphael always said when Octavia dies her soul is his and they will be together for eternity.

She is Raphael's favourite

her contract with him is kept in a secret room in the house of hope only Raphael has ever been in and ever will be in. The only other person who knows of it is Haarlep and thats because Haarlep is supposed to keep an eye on it and keep people out of it when Raphael is out.

Raphael always referred to her as his Butterfly because of her fae nature and his little mouse for how sneaky and quiet she could be. Act 1

Octavia left to blend in with mindflayer survivors to investigate for raphael some matters, despite him telling her not to but she ended up captured and one of them.

Octavia finds the others interesting at first and prefers observing them. Slowly she comes to enjoy their company somewhat and finds herself in the odd position as leader.

Raphael keeps an eye on the group more to keep an eye on Octavia than anything. Hes furious by her disobeying him and getting herself into such a mess. But hes also worried for his fairy.

He feels disgusted when he sees the other proposition his fairy for intimacy, a tinge of jealousy in his gut when he sees Octavia consider Astarion.

When they meet again he recites her favorite poetry, his taunting is meant for her companions especially Astarion. But theres mocking anger in his eyes, he looks furious with her thinly veiled and she knows shes in trouble when its all over. He wants to drag her off back to the house of hope but he knows she needs to go on this journey. Because while he could remove her tadpole he knows she already made bonds with her companions and seen them as friends and he was not going to deny her that.

When the tiefling party happens Octavia ends up having a moment of weakness seduced by Astarion. Raphael burns with anger that he has to contain. He wants to run the vampire through with his own daggers and to yell at Octavia, despite the fact he sleeps with haarlep himself. But still all he does is observe.

Act 2

Raphael reluctantly grows to accept Octavia's fondness for the vampire, his heart aches seeing her fall in love with another person thats not him he thinks shes a fool for it. But he grants her it, seeing it as just something temporary and fun for her. Knowing as soon as she dies she'll be his again, forever and next time she won't be leaving.

When he finally sees her again he internally seethes at her helping Astarion but he holds himself back and offers a deal seeing it as a chance to get something he needs, done. and to remind Octavia where shes going in the end, that just like that demon she will return to his side. A subtle threat and reminder that hes allowing her to be with Astarion and her friends, disguised as one of his regular deals.

Octavia feels awkward about it all and feels horrible. She is in love with both men.

Act 3

Octavia gets a letter from Raphael demanding she comes see him in Sharess Caress. She hides it from her companions and leads them to Raphael

Raphael annoyed with her actions, having wanted to see her alone has to put up an act and come up with a deal on the spot, coming up with the grand deal he did just to try to make her give up and come home with an impossible task.

Hes shocked when she accepts the deal, almost angry at her. But he knows if she fails either dying or just fails to fulfill the deal he can take her home.

She pretends shes gathering more information and tells the others to head off to get see about Gale's book and she'd catch up.

When they are alone she and Raphael finally talk, she explains that she didn't mean to fall for Astarion that she loves them both. Raphael soothes her, admitting to his initial "displeasure" but that in the end it doesn't matter because she will one day come home and he'll be waiting and until then he'd always be near, watching, waiting, there for her when she wishes to come back.

She takes comfort in Raphael's arms as he asks to remove her tadpole, she won't let him since it gives her an advantage. But Raphael is scared of her turning into an illithid but he won't admit it. So he just vows to watch her more closely and if she starts to turn into an illithid he'll get rid of the tadpole regardless if she likes it or not.

When she becomes Astarion's spawn Raphael's heart aches. But he knows he'll still claim her soul back one day, he just has to wait. Theres many monster hunters out there one day hers and Astarion's luck will run out.

[shimmerbeasts]

If Haarlep was mourning the master of the House, it was not showing. He had quite literally played a part in this by letting their sneaky guests get their hands on the Orphic Hammer all for another glamour. Did Mizora know that? No, of course not. Did Raphael know that? No, of course not (even if he had, it didn't matter now). He was a fiend after all, and loyal to Mephistopheles, not Raphael, despite their long years together, and the shared nights and moments. Bickering like an old married couple, perhaps, but they were far from anything one might call in love. Two fiends, one so self obsessed that he would only love himself, and Haarlep, a slave to the touch of others, which Raphael gave to him whenever he needed. A damn good feast, though... One that would be sorely missed in that regard. Such a shame... Such a pretty shame at that. Well, he supposed he'd have to get his food from elsewhere now. Such was the Hells, after all.

Haarlep pouted in response. "Come, Mizora, not even you would deny that this is a spectacular face," he said, shoulders back and chest out as he gave her a smouldering look, showing Raphael's most regal stance. King of all the Hells--Raphael could only dream. He took a step forward, bare feet on the ground and tail swaying behind him. "Besides, with my contract now void, I believe I'll take my time getting back to Cania. I may just delve into the darkest pits of Avernus and see what I can feast upon." It was a hell of a lot warmer up here anyway. He'd gotten used to Avernus, and the filth that lived there. Inspecting his claws, he brushed them onto his chest. "Would you prefer a mirror image?" He smiled in her direction, eyes halving. "You know the cost of that, dear." But was she so self loving as Raphael was? Time would tell.

Harleep was right about one thing: Mizora did not know what Wyll and his playmates had done in the House of Hope. However, she had known that they had planned to somehow get into the place. Wyll had been cunning enough to remove the sending stone from his eye socket before they had made the trip, though she had heard the mention of the House.

When the sending stone rematerialised in Wyll's eye socket again come the next noon, the little group of misfits had already made their escape. Judging by the overlapping yelling and snippets along the lines of "I cannot believe we pulled this off.", "This was way too close for comfort." and "The next time I have an idea like this, Lae'zel, do me the favour and punch me in the face!", whatever their mission had been, they had succeeded by a hair.

Whatever hair-brained idea they had concocted - it would not be the first time that Wyll's group did the most nonsensical idea, they could think of -, it certainly was another note of excitement in this little journey. Mizora would have to question Wyll on what the little pup had done in the House of Hope once she found the time.

"Haarleep", Mizora said matter-of-factly, "The only urge I feel when I am looking at that whiteboard, you call a handsome face, is the impulse to rip your head from your shoulders and peel the meat from your cheekbones." She took a deep breath, wings briefly opening and closing as the Cambion wrestled down the contempt for the now-dead master of the House of Hope. "Just change it", she reiterated, "Or are you telling me you have gotten so used to wearing Raphael's hide, you have forgotten how to shapeshift?"

"I won't mind you turning into someone female", Mizora said, making a point to speak softer and calmer this time, "However, I have no interest in seeing a mirror image of myself wander about. I always found Raphael's infatuation with himself quite gauche. Though if he wanted to be a show pony so badly, whom am I to judge?"

After all, how did Raphael so eloquently put it? Oh, that was right! Mizora was her mistress' ground's keeper. Though who had the last laugh now? Raphael had lost his inheritance and his life. Meanwhile, Mizora had taken the opportunity found in a punishment decades old and made the menagerie her own! Furthermore, she had figured out what niche Zariel demanded of her to be irreplaceable. After all, how did the saying go? If you cannot beat them, join them.

@dvilsdesire cont. from here.

[mrfancyfoot]

Raphael x Evie (f!OC) | Rating: E/varied | Chapter 1 on AO3

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Chapter 8: Echoes & Whispers

Haarlep takes advantage of Evie’s heightened hearing to tell her of all the things they’d like to do while she and Raphael are busy.

Chapter Rating: M/E / NSFW Word Count: ~1.6k Tags: POV Evie, M-Solo; Sexual fantasies; Bathing fantasy Warnings: Haarlep; Unsolicited lewdness

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“Welcome back, little fox!”   Not five minutes here and the incubus was already back to trying to get under her skin.  She wasn’t sure how - had Raphael told them? - but they had found out that her ears were extra sensitive and could hear them wherever they were skulking about in the House of Hope.

“Why not come play with me,” they bid in that deceptively dulcet lilt, “once you’re done with all that boring stuff I’m sure you talk about with the master?”

If she hadn’t been a product of the modern era of sex and such things as the internet and all that came with it - porn galore, unsolicited lewdness and pictures in every inbox as a woman merely existing online, rule 34, et cetera, et cetera - maybe their words would have fazed her.  As it was, they usually weren’t too difficult to ignore, though they had been escalating in drama and explicitness...  She refused to give them the satisfaction of getting a response out of her.

“I could pamper you in the bath first.  Evie…would you like that?  Light candles while we soak and relax in the hot waters.  I would scrub every bit of that soft skin until my touch makes you tingly and breathy.  Run my claws over your scalp as I lather and rinse your beautiful red hair.  I bet they’d feel divine on those fluffy ears.  Oh, and I of course cannot forget about your tail!  I wonder how sensitive it is?  Do you moan when it’s grasped and pulled, little fox?”

“I would massage all those muscles, so tight and sore from your travels.”

“Perhaps I would steal a kiss or two from those lips and give your nipples a pinch just to hear you gasp.”

“And then I would pluck you up and seat you on the pool’s edge.  You would lie back into plush pillows and I would attend to your most sacred of places!”

Oh, what she would give for a proper hot bath…  One of the things that she did fantasize about.  What was most aggravating was that the incubus was likely saying all this from that amaaazing looking pool she’d seen in Raphael’s ‘boudoir.’

‘Boudoir’:  an archaic term she’d giggled at when Raphael first used it.  He had a poetic way of speaking at times though he clearly kept up with linguistic changes to be however many millennia old and still sound similarly to the others that she had so far met.  But words like this reminded her that he was not that forty-something appearance of the man before her.  Astarion frequently did the same, and Gale, sometimes to a lesser extent.  Surprisingly, it was infrequent from Halsin, who she knew to be the oldest of their group - maybe the language of the wilds changed less than that of the cities?

She wasn’t playing this right with Raphael.  She could be asking for things in exchange for the information he was trying to dig out.  Getting caught in his game, though, wasn’t something she wanted.

“Do you leave your curls?  Or do you trim them down?  Perhaps you’re bare completely?   I would wager that to be difficult to maintain for one travelling so long in the wilds.  I could clean them up, should you like?  If you’ve never been shorn bare, you’ll be in for a treat!”

But it was so tiring to dance around saying what he wanted to know all the time.  In most of it, she didn’t see much harm, but he was sneaky, and with her tendency to ramble once she got started, her mouth would go before her brain had a chance to pull the break.

While their first meetings had felt more like they were butting heads and clashing horns at times, the devil had pivoted and changed his strategy since.  It was a constant battle now to remind herself that he wanted her to associate him with comforts and luxury.  There was always food and drink offered.  Plush, velvet seating.  The House was near always quiet at the hour they met - except for someone.   He’d even offered to loan her a book after they had shared some of their favorites - she’d declined for now for fear of it getting damaged or ruined while travelling.  She thought he’d enjoy Alice in Wonderland.   It was kind of sad that she’d never be able to loan him or anyone a favorite book from her world.

“-to taste you!  You come here smelling all sweet and it’s not fair that I’ve been denied!  Would you be so sweet on my tongue?”

His obvious logic was that if she liked him she would be increasingly likely to sign over her soul to him - if not now, then at some point in the future.  But what if she did start turning into an illithid?  If it came to that, would she really be able to kill herself or allow another to kill her?  It was easy to say she would, but she could just as easily panic and summon him.  Because comfort was what you turned to when faced with your own mortality.  As it stood, she still thought chance was on her side.

And now-  They were discussing tea.  She loved tea!  Now Raphael knew her favorite tea.  Black with lots of spices and a dab of honey and cream and sugar…  Most of that she had actually been able to come by, but certain spices and dairy were a luxury out there.  She would bet a hefty sum of gold that he would start offering tea alongside, or instead of, wine for these meetings.

“-eave little love bites all up your thighs.  And then I’d hold them apart as my tongue laves at your lips.  I’m afraid I might be too eager to savor this!  I’d delve into your cunt for that first bit, then lick and suckle at your clit until you’re writhing beneath me and begging for more.  My tail would thrust into your hole until you spill that sweet nectar for me.  Would you cry out?  Would you scream your release?”

Her problem was that she did like him.

However much of this was an illusion to draw her in, there were parts that were genuine.  When there wasn’t ‘work’ to talk about, he often led conversation with his own interests and hobbies - they had quite a few in common!  It might have started as a way for him to show off his sophistication as he played host, but he was happy when she was able to keep up and contribute.  After so many months out no-where, it was exciting to be able to get a bit nerdier with someone over her own interests!  Even if they were a devil.  Was it possible there was a part of him that felt similarly?  Devil’s didn’t have friends, right?  

…Did they say tail?

Was that…a thing?  That they could do?

No!  They were not going to distract her.

“-or we could get adventurous.  And you would look up at me with those big, innocent eyes-”   They were cackling again.

“Oh, I hardly believe you are��innocent or lacking experience, dear fox.  You’ve quite the self-control if Raphael hasn’t caught on to our game, yet.  I think you’re much the opposite!  Keeping hidden your wiles and desires.  He likes to talk and brag, you know?  Little ‘modern era’ girl, are the carnal delights so free where you are from?  I should love to hear all about them!  Could you surprise an incubus?  Could I surprise you?”

“-been fucking a vampire?  I could turn green with envy!  Has dear Astarion tasted more than your blood?  We could invite him, too!  Have you ever been with two lovers at once?  Stuffed so full of cock?  Could your little body and holes handle us both?  Or…are you the voyeur type?  Would you like to watch as I fuck him?   Or he could fuck me, I care not.  Lie back or pull up a chair, spread your legs wide, and touch yourself as he moans on my cock.  I could shove him between your thighs and make him-”

Bringing Astarion into their stupid fantasy made her angry.  She could shake things said about herself, but it was much harder when she felt the urge to defend someone else.

She hadn’t told Astarion about Haarlep.  He was self-conscious enough as it was while he was processing his changing feelings over his sexuality.  She didn’t want to worry him or have him think it was somehow his fault if something did happen to her.

“And I shall let you in on a secret, you vixen-  As I lie here stroking my cock to thoughts of you, my dear master - whose form I presently share - can feel everything!”  She could hear them giggling.  “I can guarantee that he’s fighting himself in those britches.  Here, watch closely~”

She tried to keep the surprise from her face upon hearing that fact, probably only going unnoticed as, in that moment, she saw Raphael’s jaw tick as his eyes flicked in the direction of his bedroom from over the rim of his wine glass.  He had quite the mask, too - she wouldn’t have known about this had she not been warned.  At least the table between them blocked the view of anything potentially indecent.

Maybe that was karma for the devil.

“Will you go back to your camp and touch yourself tonight?  Or seek the arms of your lover?  I do so hope you’ll think of me.  I’ll certainly be having fun.”

Thank-you for reading!

[dvilsdesire]

"I could say that I am sorry what happened to your master, but that would be a lie."

Mizora briefly looked at Haarleep and raised a brow. Crossing her arms over the window sill, she stared ahead on the blood-soaked, hardened ground, listening to fumes shooting out of the cracked soil. If you focussed enough, you could hear the slow gurgling sounds of the river, somewhere hidden in the fog.

"What are you doing here?", Mizora inquired of the incubus, "After all, shouldn't you be heading back to your creator, now that your charge met an early demise?" Another brief look, followed by an annoyed eye roll. "Do me the favour and change your face. I cannot take you seriously when you look like this."

Random asks || always accepting

If Haarlep was mourning the master of the House, it was not showing. He had quite literally played a part in this by letting their sneaky guests get their hands on the Orphic Hammer all for another glamour. Did Mizora know that? No, of course not. Did Raphael know that? No, of course not (even if he had, it didn't matter now). He was a fiend after all, and loyal to Mephistopheles, not Raphael, despite their long years together, and the shared nights and moments. Bickering like an old married couple, perhaps, but they were far from anything one might call in love. Two fiends, one so self obsessed that he would only love himself, and Haarlep, a slave to the touch of others, which Raphael gave to him whenever he needed.

A damn good feast, though... One that would be sorely missed in that regard. Such a shame... Such a pretty shame at that. Well, he supposed he'd have to get his food from elsewhere now. Such was the Hells, after all.

Haarlep pouted in response. "Come, Mizora, not even you would deny that this is a spectacular face," he said, shoulders back and chest out as he gave her a smouldering look, showing Raphael's most regal stance. King of all the Hells--Raphael could only dream.

He took a step forward, bare feet on the ground and tail swaying behind him. "Besides, with my contract now void, I believe I'll take my time getting back to Cania. I may just delve into the darkest pits of Avernus and see what I can feast upon." It was a hell of a lot warmer up here anyway. He'd gotten used to Avernus, and the filth that lived there.

Inspecting his claws, he brushed them onto his chest. "Would you prefer a mirror image?" He smiled in her direction, eyes halving. "You know the cost of that, dear." But was she so self loving as Raphael was? Time would tell.

[dvilsdesire]

For someone who claim that they hated killing, Alaara had certainly done a lot of it. Life and death, he supposed. Mortals were so fleeting, after all, and so consumed with crime and sin. It was a wonder how any of them were still alive. She was true to her nature, though, the nature of the dragonborn.

Haarlep laughed. "Oh please, that crown is the last thing I wish to put upon my head," he said, flicking his hand dismissively. How many times had he heard Raphael go on and on about that damn thing. It was the, of course, one of the reasons why he was crafted and gifted to the Archdevil's son.

"However, need I remind you of where that crown came from? Locked away, safely, I might add, in a vault so nobody could get their hands on it." Sure, Mephistopheles had kept the crown due to his own power hungry needs, but in doing so, he had shaded it from other sneaky little hands. There were far worse people out there than Mephistopheles that could wear that damn thing. The only reason that vault had been broken into was likely because that little snitch Gortash overheard and wanted power for himself. Such was the way of Raphael and his big mouth.

"Far be it from me to claim where it belongs, though," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He was no longer bound by his contract, so whatever happened to it would not be his problem.

To be someone who could disgust and enthrall in the same instance was- Well, coming from Haarlep it was a compliment. Alaara stood taller and beamed as she crossed her arms and let her tail sway.

"I hate killing. I'm glad to hear you don't want to add yourself to the death count."

"But don't think we'll bring the crown to you either. I- I'm actually not sure what we'll do with it once we get it. World domination is not on my list, but several others in camp are tempted by the idea. The idea of ascending to godhood has also been entertained. Both are exceptionally bad ideas if you ask me; they're both counter to everything we've worked toward thus far. I pray I can convince everyone that we need to take the crown out of play for good somehow. Its destruction would be most ideal but in lieu of that... I don't know."

The crown could be passed off to Mystra... It was an option that would free Gale of his orb and let him return to his former glory. It would also be the logical thing to do, given the crown was magic and she was magic incarnate. Even so, the idea of handing it over to her didn't exactly thrill Alaara. Her actions against Gale still sat foul with her.

"It needs to rest with someone who can keep it from doing- Well, anything with it. I've a good idea of who that candidate might be, but I won't jump for joy watching it being handed over to them."

[hrefna-the-raven]

Drunken minds speak sober hearts

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Part 2 - Hope in hell

Words: 1258

Warnings: drunkenness, drunk confessions

Summary: It shocked you to see the usually eloquent and reserved devil in such a state, you would almost think that he's...."Is he...drunk?", you asked....

You swiftly positioned the objects on the hastily sketched summoning circle, your drowsy eyes still longing for sleep. It was the dead of night, and you had been immersed in blissful dreams before they were abruptly interrupted by the arrival of a certain incubus. Usually I'd tease you just for my amusement but you need to come to House of Hope. Now. It's about the master. Hurry up little mouse. Haarlep's words echoed relentlessly in your thoughts. He lacked his usual playfulness which worried you. What was happening with Raphael and why in the nine hells would the incubus reach out to you for help? Placing the final object onto the circle, you stepped into the radiant glow that materialised before you.

You ran through the corridors of the House of Hope, rushing towards the boudoir, the only room where the incubus always lingered. Just as you passed around the last corner, you witnessed a bottle flying out of the doorway of the boudoir, crashing onto the ground and shattering into countless pieces, accompanied by an angry, slurred, yet familiar, voice. Cautiously you entered the room and gasped at the scene unfolding before you. Haarlep was casually leaning against the wall, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips. Further inside, Raphael was seated on the floor, dressed in only a pair of thin black pants, his back resting against a nearby pillar next to a small pool. His hair was dishevelled, his fiery orange eyes clouded, and his hand moved erratically through the air as he mumbled something unintelligible to you.

"What happened?", you looked at Haarlep who was still smirking.

"Well I think it would better if my esteemed master tells you everything himself, little mouse", he chuckled, proceeding towards the devil with you following close behind..

The moment Raphael laid eyes on you, his hazy expression turned into one of shock. He attempted to get up, but his hands slipped clumsily from the pillars he was using as support. His tall cambion body then slumped back onto the ground, and a pained groan escaped his lips.

"How issit possible you can look like 'er?!", the devil slurred loudly, "'s'only...it's...you contemptuous creature!", he snarled, struggling to lift himself from the ground once again, "h-how did you? You have slept with her! My li-little pr-precious mouse!"

Haarlep chuckled at Raphael's second attempt to stand up, then lifted his master's stumbling form onto his shoulders and began walking towards the back of the room. It shocked you to see the usually eloquent and reserved devil in such a state, you would almost think that he's....

"Is he...drunk?", you asked the incubus, prompting a hearty laugh from him.

"Well of course, little mouse", Haarlep responded with a hint of amusement, "I added a little something to his drinks tonight so, for once in his miserable life, he'd be rather unrestrained and truthful instead of his usual insufferable self."

"But why?", you exclaimed, the question bursting out of you, "and why summon me here?"

Raphael's eyes snapped up at the sound of your voice. He raised his head and his hand gently cupped your cheek. 

"You look and sound so so so real", he slurred, his words interrupted by a hiccup, "I wish she was here, I-I mmmiss her."

Raphael's hand slipped away from your face as Haarlep continued walking. He tossed the devil onto the bed and turned to face you, gripping your chin and tilting your face upward.

"We used to delve into the depths of carnal pleasure, admittedly only onesided pleasure but still...and then you came along and he won't shut up about you. I can't fathom how you managed to capture the attention and affection of this self-centered devil, but here we are. Now, my dear, seize this opportunity while I go and find genuine pleasure elsewhere", he tapped your head gently, "oh and by the way, you're welcome."

The incubus gave you a sly wink before disappearing into thin air, leaving you alone, in hell, with an utterly shitfaced Raphael.

You felt a clawed hand tug at you and when you turned around you saw Raphael sitting up on the bed, his expression carried an unusual gentleness that caught you off guard. In a gasp, you found yourself being pulled closer to him, your bodies pressed together as he allowed himself to fall back onto the bed, with your delicate form resting on top of his. Your heart raced, threatening to burst out of your chest and you almost released a soft moan at the sensation of his warm, exposed skin against yours, coupled with the intoxicating aroma of cherries, sulfure, and an indescribably sweet scent that was unfamiliar to you, which, you concluded, must have been the result of whatever Haarlep had given him to drink. The devil wrapped his wings around you and tilted your head, forcing you to look at him, his lips parted to say something but you spoke before he could even utter a word.

"I'm not Haarlep."

Raphael chuckled and you felt blush spreading across your cheeks as his warm sweet breath fanned across your skin.

"I know, little mouse."

His hand found its way to your head, his fingers tenderly curling around the back of your neck as he leaned in closer. His lips collided with yours in a sloppy kiss, both of you moaning into the embrace. His tongue pushed past your lips, deepening the kiss as the hot taste of sickly sweet liquor filled your mouth. You were the one to break the kiss first, gasping for air and desperately trying to ignore the pleasure pulsating between your thighs.

"You know", Raphael whispered, making a conscious effort to sound as sober as possible, "I've ground rather fond of you, in my own way."

You cupped his cheek, unable to pull your gaze away from his the orange flames dancing in his eyes, grinning slightly as he furrowed his brows, a failing attempt to concentrate in his drunken state.

"I l-l-looove you", he slurred in a half moan, eye closing at the gentleness of your touch, his head falling back, "stay with me."

"If I've learning anything from our encounters", you spoke softly, " then that you'll hate me and yourself tomorrow morning when you realise what happened."

A sudden wave of melancholy swept over your thoughts. You found yourself uncertain about how to handle this very strange and particular situation. From the moment you laid eyes on the charismatic devil from the first moment he appeared, even though you were aware that his charm and polite demeanour were merely tools to deceive you into a pact. And yet here you were, lying on top of said devil, his dishevelled appearance and drunken state revealing a vulnerable side as he clumsily professed his love to you, unfiltered and genuine words of truth finally finding their way into your heart. His arms enveloped you tightly in a warm embrace.

"Stay here, little mouse", he murmured softly as his breathing slowed and a gentle snore escaped his lips.

You couldn't help but smile as you rested your head upon his chest. Thoughts of what the morning would bring, when Raphael would awaken sober and potentially irritable to find you sleeping on him, briefly crossed your mind. However, you decided to leave that worry for another day. In this moment, all you wanted was to revel in the happiness and solace that your devil provided. With a contented sigh, your eyes grew heavy, and you peacefully drifted off into a tranquil slumber.

Notes:

I'm tempted to do a second part and play with the thought of how a sober Raphael would probably react to this and what will become of Haarlep...if Haarlep ever comes back^^

Tags:

@dark-and-kawaii I thought you might wanna be tagged on this 😊

[angelicgaming1007]

How it started how it ended

This is my initial thoughts on my first playthrough to my thoughts now on my like 80 smth Start of the game: Gale: A good friend Wyll: Annoying goody two shoes Shadowheart: Jaded, cold callous b*tch Halsin: Weirdo creep Minthara: B*tch Lae'zel: Cold B*tch Astarion: Sneaky bastard but kinda hot, want to punch but he could date me. Jaheira: B*tch Karlach: Annoying goody two shoes Minsc: Baby Bean Gortash: Slimy A**hole Raphael: Untrustworthy bastard Haarlep: Creep Emperor: untrustworthy bastard Kar'niss: You scare the sh*t out of me stay back stay away Orin: F*CK NO Ketheric: Dusty bag of bones you don't scare me Isobel: Ugh another goody two shoes Aylin: I don't trust you Separating Guardian bc I had different impressions before I knew WHO the guardian was Guardian: Hot, Lowkey into you, don't fully trust you. But I mean I kind of am into this whole dream hero thing you got going on here. Last playthrough:

Gale: Big brother Wyll: Good friend Shadowheart: Good Friend Karlach: Best friend, Still a baby bean tho would date tbh if I could stop romancing Astarion for one damned second Halsin: Uncle / Father Minthara: Lowkey wanna date you but lowkey scared of you Lae'zel: Lowkey is a Tsundere, Bestie Astarion: HUSBAND, SOULMATE, I WILL DIE FOR YOU I WILL PROTECT YOU NO ONE WILL HURT YOU AGAIN. I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU. Jaheira: Aunt / Mom Minsc: STILL A BABY BEAN Gortash: Side hoe 1 Raphael: Side hoe 2 Haarlep: Side hoe 3 Emperor/Guardian: Side hoe 4 Kar'niss: Side hoe 5 Orin: STILL F*CK NO IM SCARED SOMEONE PICK ME UP Ketheric: STILL a dusty bag of bones you don't scare me Isobel: Enjoyable Company surprisingly Aylin: MY GODDESS MY QUEEN STEP ON ME (Sorry for trying to kill you in one of my playthroughs. I was evil~) Point is: Characters grow on you.. and good god I had bad first impressions of almost everyone

[dvilsdesire]

Astarion? Oh... now that had been a mistake, to tell his name to the fiend. A name that he had heard repeated within these large corridors as Raphael whined and moaned about the Crown of Karsus and how he was to grasp it in his very claws. Now... now the incubus knew who the vampire truly was, and that the sneaky, little mouse had lied to him. It seemed Astarion had his own charm he'd need to combat.

Nonetheless, Haarlep smiled in response, his eyes gleaming. "The most charming devil, you might say," he replied, voice low and sultry.

He gestured for Astarion to follow, his tail flicking behind his back. "If I were in charge of the place, you would certainly see far more debauchery," he chimed with a hum of pleasure to his thoughts. "But Raphael, oh yes, he is quite the host. Just look at his decorum." He gestured his arms outward to the statues of naked devils and paintings that covered the walls. Souls lingered and if one were to look out the window and see Avernus all around them, they would see even more souls that belonged to the host.

He stepped down to the running fountain that took up a large portion of the room, nearing the front door.

"Now, as you know, these hallways are filled with dangers. Stick with me, and you will be safe, little vampire. Though, I do believe you'd enjoy the adrenaline. The thrum of your own undead heart throbbing through that delicious throat of yours."

As much as it delighted Astarion that someone recognized his penchant for perfumery, the whole situation sat ill at his core. He managed to come away from his deal with the devil relatively unscathed. He doubted a second time he’d be afforded such mercy.

With the devil’s name Astarion still had a hard time not seeing Raphael. The Cambion’s visage on the incubus… clearly the two of them had a bit of fun with one another.

“Astarion.” He said simply without thinking. He was just a meager rat after all in the big scheme of the world. A spawn barely worthy of mention.

“A pleasure for certain.” He scanned over Haarlep, spying the wings and the horns. Features he never recalled seeing in Raphael. Mizora looked vastly different than her fellow Cambion. Perhaps the visage he saw of Raphael was an illusion. One made to put his prey at ease. The devil always wore the most charming mask so the stories went.

“Raphael is the master of this house, is he? Well, I do hope he’s amenable host.” He couldn’t mention the uncanny likeness without giving away he knew the man in question. A rookie mistake if he did. His feet took a meandering path around Haarlep, but ultimately he arrived closer than he was before. Still out of arm’s reach for him.

“Keep me safe?” Oh, Astarion doubted that. He hadn’t felt safe in centuries. “Aren’t you a charming devil?”

[dvilsdesire]

A sneaky little mouse, come for a treat, it seemed. Usually, as perceptive as ever, he would have heard the sound of light footsteps approaching the door, or at least the pins as they unlocked the latch of the locked door. Instead, he'd been enjoying the thought of a certain devil getting flustered by his games whilst he wore their glamour.

To his surprise, the vampire broke into the room and would be met with quite the lovely sight of a fully naked incubus on the bed of the room.

Haarlep's hands did not leave himself, though his fiery eyes looked to the red, a smirk at his lips. One hand dipped between his parted legs, his tail to the side on the bed.

"Oh, but what if I enjoyed your interruption, darling?" he purred lovingly. His toned belly lead to a very rigid cock.

😲 @dvilsdesire

Send a 😲 for your muse to walk in on mine masturbating! - @dvilsdesire

Curiosity killed the cat, as they said - and Astarion had always had a fast and loose relationship with curiosity. It had damned him more times than he could remember, between his own wretched existence as a thrall of Cazador and even since - the whole tadpole business was a veritable minefield of ways to get himself in trouble when it came to being curious.

He'd opened the door after carefully picking the lock and let it swing open. It was blissfully silent, hinges clearly oiled regularly and maintained - what a novelty. Someone with his particular skillset wouldn't have been able to ignore the sounds or the sights that greeted him - red gaze sweeping over the figure of the incubus as it played with itself.

"Well, far be it from me to interrupt, Darling." The rogue said, his wrist twisting in the air as he cocked his hip to the side. Was he surprised? Not exactly.