#raphael the cambion

[cherriesandsulphur]

"Indulge me, and at least hear me out."

[bitethedevil]

That awkward moment when you can remember fuckall about your past and a Literal Devil™ shows up out of the blue and compliments you on being exceptionally evil in front of all your newfound allies

[bearhugsandshrugs]

🖤 Gortash:

Gortash's entire persona is about Raphael: Part 1 (his title and plot) and Part 2 (outfit)

Gortash and Karlach, and how he loathes her for reminding him of the goodness in him

Gortash is a Cyric worshipper, actually

Gortash's age and when he got out of the HoH

Why Gortash doesn't look like his parents

Gortash’s height

On whether Gortash was evil as a child

How Gortash would react to being revived by Tav

How Gortash escaped the HoH and on Hope's role

On Gortash tadpoling his parents personally

Gortash being trained artistically by Raphael

Grey morality of Gortash

Him planning to steal the Orphic Hammer

How he got good at sex

🖤 Raphael:

Raphael's visitors in the House of Hope and immortality

Raphael is the fox, not the cat

How Raphael feels about his looks, especially in relation to Haarlep

Grey morality of Raphael

Raphael's relationship to Haarlep

On who created the Astral Prism

🖤 Halsin (all of those summer '23 character state, so outdated a bit):

On Halsin's leadership

Theory on Shadow Druids

On Halsin's romance, specifically in relation to the Drow scene

🖤 Other:

On Wyll's storyline and his reception

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Can I request headcanons for Raphael, Haarlep, and Zevlor being jealous of some guy is flirting with their female s/o although she's oblivious that he's flirting with her? He's so possessive that he even took her back home to have a heated make-out while holding her close & his tail wrapped around her leg!

I love a Possessive man. I'm not even going to lie. I always get asked if I met a guy in the books or fics I read how I would handle them. In theory, I would love it; in practice, I am a sassy beach and would probably not last.

HEADCANON~~~~~~Haarlep, Zevlor, Raphael

Haarlep-

He couldn't believe the fact he was so irate at this moment. Like he has never felt more than real lust since that was what he was incarnated for. Right now, though, it was as if he was a Demon of Wrath instead of a Demon of Lust.

How could you be so damn oblivious? You just sat there smiling with that stupid, adorable, cute smile.

You were perfect inside and out, something he didn't see in many people. You were the woman of his dreams. That wasn't an easy feat for a demon that could literally bed anyone.

You were his and his alone, so why was another demon standing so close to his woman.

(Haarlep would literally be the iconic TV trope of a partner breaking a champagne or wine glass in hand out of anger. Man is one for theatrics. Come on.)

It was all over after the demon talking to you touched your face to move some hair behind your ear. Before you could even process what was happening, Harrlep was on top of the other demon, practically torturing him.

Once Raphael dismissed and sent him on his way, he grabbed you and took you to his room.

Mans is a pacer when he fears his emotions are too big to handle right then.

Once calmed down, especially by your words, he just turned to you and, with no hesitation, kissed you passionately.

Let's be honest: Haarlep is a man of business. He doesn't play around.

As extra reassurance, you wouldn't leave him for three weeks straight; his tail was wrapped positively around your thigh or waist, constantly teasing you and testing others.

Zevlor-

I'm not going to lie. In my first playthrough, I punched Zevlor, so I can confidently say Mans is a big baby. He plays it off cool, but once his ego is hurt, he tanks Man, and it's so cute.

Watching the male tiefling flirt with you was literally hell on earth. Might as well have Avernus burning around him as you laugh at that stupid demon's jokes.

This party to celebrate your victory was supposed to be a night for you and him to sneak off and consummate your relationship before the long journey through the shadowlands. (If you know, you know, and I cry every time)

Man is more of a self-deprecating jealous than a wrathful jealous. So, unlike Haarlep, who just waits to explode, Zevlor is coming up with 1000 reasons why the other demon is so much better for you.

Zevlor becomes withdrawn and makes his way to his maps and equipment for the expedition, no longer interested in the party.

If he can't see his heart get broken, how can his heart get broken, you know?

However, what this man loved about you most was that you picked up on so many subtle clues. So, with little time between his self-deprecating and abandonment of the party, you were at his side.

The man couldn't even look you in the eyes. He was so sure he would fuck something up.

After some gentle coaxing, he finally listens to you and holds you so gently, kissing you fiercely and passionately.

(He may leave a few hickies or ten to really make sure everyone knew you were taken)

While on the road to Baldur's Gate, he never took his tail from around your waist. He kept you close and secure next to him.

God forbid the tiefling from the party even remotely gets too close to you. That tail might go to other places to prove a point.

Raphael-

He is far too prideful and egotistical to physically show anyone or anything in general how upset he is that another man is talking to you.

He would rather burn in hell under his father's thumb than admit he is jealous.

He knows at the end of the day, you are his. I mean, he had your soul. The first night you two consummated, he took it from you.

That didn't stop the nagging feeling he had watching you laugh, smile, and, in his eyes, flaunt what was his.

Being prideful, Raphael's approach to removing the threat was simple. He simply reminded everyone how powerful he really was.

All it took was a quick interjection into the conversation and not so-subtly informing the lingering demon about how his father was a king of hell.

Once the threat was taken care of, he turned to you. Oddly enough, with a simple, commanding look, you knew it was time to retreat to your shared quarters.

Before you could make it through the door fully, you were slammed against a wall, mouth covered by his.

By the end of the night, you had more marks covering your body than you cared to admit, but damn, at least everyone knew who owned you.

After that incident, at every gala or event he held, you were to sit on his lap with his tail wrapped firmly around your body.

If you behaved well, he would use his tail elsewhere, too.

I had a lot of fun writing this; when I first joined Tumblr many moons ago, this wasn't a huge thing, so this is my first time writing one of these. I really hope I didn't disappoint. Thank you so much to everyone from Annons to other blogs for the help and support in beginning my journey to writing! I appreciate all of you!

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger 

Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

AO3

Chapter 2

The next day, during your lunch break, you made another attempt to persuade Raphael to take his clothes off. The clock struck noon; your private laptop was on the right side of your desk, while your work laptop was on the left, Teams open and your mouse ready to show signs of activity from time to time.

The sun was shining through the wide open window, children playing outside. Idyllic. Nothing sinister could be happening in broad daylight with those happy sounds in the background. The horror movies told you so. Except for Midsommar.

Well, screw Midsommar, then. This isn’t Sweden.

"All right, I'm going to set some ground rules here," you said to the loading screen. "I can be as creepy as I want to be to you, because you're just a bunch of pixels, but you can't do anything creepy to me, because I'm a human being. Got that? Good."

The sound of your voice made you feel braver.

As you heard the familiar sinister 'you-let-the-villain-win-bad-player' music in the background, you covered your eyes with your hands and peered through splayed fingers.

Then he appeared. Just as you had wished. Perfectly naked, with a stereotypical video game six-pack and just the right amount of body hair. The orange lighting made his skin glow, and his flaccid penis, like that of the game's generic male model, vanished from sight as he strode closer.

Your ears pricked up to listen to the scripted monologue you knew by heart, watching (waiting?) for any hiccups or new animations, the YouTube app on your phone playing the identical scene for comparison.

Everything happened exactly as it should, word for word, save for the speaker’s nudity.

All good. You breathed a sigh of relief and spread your fingers wider to admire Raphael a little better. 

Same as always. Handsome and charming and completely imaginary, which, now that you thought about it, was the biggest part of his charm. 

"Ta-ta... for now," Raphael's signature line echoed through the room.

"Bravo, Raphael," you praised the screen. "You've done nothing creepy. You have earned your title of Archdevil Supreme."

After waiting for a response that never came, you laughed off your silliness and shook your head. Your laptop was overheating, giving off a slight synthetic smell. Should have upgraded a long time ago. Just need to put enough money aside.

"OK, screenshots," you said. "I wanted to take some screenshots. Do you mind, Raphael? Can I have your consent? They’ll help recruit more followers for you, my liege."

Your phone vibrated. The FaceID gave you a preview of the Discord messages from Queen-of-the-Bored, one of the few Raphaelites you'd actually spoken to directly and felt like you kinda sorta knew.

queen-of-the-bored: ngl that was some really funny joke, we spent the whole night trying to recreate it :-D queen-of-the-bored: you sounded legit worried over that voice message tho haha you: it was legit. check the reddit thread queen-of-the-bored: which thread

Ok, let me google that for you. You typed in the same search words as yesterday, "Raphael naked mod April prank," clicked on the thread from yesterday, and skimmed through the comments.

“nah not joking there is this naked mod for teenage mutant ninja""

“all dongs appeared MASSIVE on April’s first”

Scrolling further, you realized that was not the correct Raphael - it's Raphael the Turtle, not Raphael the Devil. Why was there so much NSFW content about him? What did people see in turtles?

You quickly corrected your search to "Raphael BG3 naked mod April prank," but it didn’t bring back any relevant results. So, you changed it to "last twenty four hours" just to be thorough.

Didn’t help. Nothing. You were the only to be called a naughty little mouse. The special one.

queen-of-the-bored: which thread dude??? you: my bad it was the turtle queen-of-the-bored: ??? queen-of-the-bored: I am slowly getting worried about you haha

Next step? Contact the mod developer directly? What if they have no idea what you're talking about?

Then what? What were the alternative theories? You've been hacked and doxxed to madness for that one Twitter post that got people waving pitchforks at you? 

There you go, you were scared again. Daytime, sun shining and children playing outside, but there you were, alone in your flat, scared again.

You took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "All right, I understand, Mr Archdevil Supreme. No screenshots. I'll uninstall the mod and I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour."

You couldn't bear to see Raphael's face on the screen again so you hit ctrl alt delete instead of Escape and stared blankly at the Task Manager.

Next, you uninstalled the mod that had caused all this trouble. Then you went to Tumblr and removed the reblog of Raphael in a cat playsuit with the tag "my poor miau miau". Then you deleted your bookmarks on AO3. Your Twitter account was beyond repair, so you deleted it altogether.

None of these actions made you feel any better. You grabbed a quick cup of shrimp noodles, but eating it only made you feel worse. As you tasted the sodium on your tongue, you came to a realisation: what you needed was to go the fuck outside.

You had been stuck in your flat and home office since the start of the pandemic, chronically online. Online work, online colleagues, online friends, who was the last real person you saw, talked to and hugged?

Your mum, probably. 

Oh yes, no wonder you were going mad. You need to get out there and meet some real people. You opened Discord, quickly scrolled past the sketch of Tav giving Raphael head, and typed a message: you needed to touch grass.

queen-of-the-bored: well there is Comic-Con this weekend  you: this is NOT touching grass, this is burning it queen-of-the-bored: true you: besides not going alone queen-of-the-bored: maybe Raph will keep you company 😈 

What? Such a strange thing to say. Or was it? Who the hell was that behind the screen anyway? Apparently someone called Sammy from Ohio. Supposedly. Wasn’t she the one who recommended this mod?

She was.

Come on, you're just letting your paranoia get the best of you.

queen-of-the-bored: oh BTW I found THE hottest Raph smut  queen-of-the-bored: mind the tags it's so hot but soooooo fucked up queen-of-the-bored: just read it trust me thank me later

Who the hell were you, Sammy from Ohio, Korilla? You put the phone down and started pacing around your small flat. It was not much to pace around, only forty-two square meters. 

At least you rent a flat in a building with other people and not some house at the edge of the forest. Strangers live below you, above you and on either side of you. They don't know you and you don't know them... but they were there, just in case...

Just in case.

"You know what?" you said to your computer. "I need a break. I need to focus on my mental health. Self-care, Raphael. I'm not playing with you. For now".

The moment you finished speaking, your phone lit up again with another notification. This time it was an email. You made a mental note to start managing your notifications better.

Did you enjoy your Devil Dick © - Natural Red experience? We know you will be back for more 😈 Check out the new...

What the fuck? Oh no, no, click away and make a mental note to never order from Bad Dragon again with customer satisfaction emails like this. It's borderline harassment. You ordered from them ONCE, as a joke, just to see what ridges might feel like.

Not as good as the smut had promised you,

Private. Private stuff. Between you and your bed drawer. Between you and your browser. God, how much stuff you have in your browser history. You should have used incognito mode more often.

Would that have helped? 

"That was low, Raphael," you muttered. "Or is it Haarlep today?"

You glanced around your room before angling your computer screen towards the wall, then retrieved the Devil Dick © from its hideaway in your bedside drawer. Your fingers grazed over the silicon ridges as you swiftly stashed it away in a box beneath the bed.

"If you must know, it was too big for me. Flattered?"

Crawling out from under the dusty bed, you looked up and realized for the first time that anyone in the building could easily peep into the flat if they tried hard enough or cared enough to do so.

Enough is enough.

You need to hydrate, you need to eat some vegetables, you need to start jogging again and you definitely... you definitely need to go out and talk to some real people. Maybe it's time to get back on Bumble and try your luck again. Who knows, it might actually work this time.

He wouldn't like that.

Where did that thought just come from? He wouldn't like it, who the hell cares what some imaginary devil thinks.

Standing up straight, you pointed a finger at the screen in front of you.

"Raphael, just so we are clear, you and I: I really like you. I do PR for you every day for free. You don't have to scare me to get my attention. You should appreciate me and be nice to me. I'm the best agent you'll ever have.”

Having made your point, you put on your running shoes and AirPods. It brought back memories of all the times you had jogged through the nearby park. Afterwards you'd sit on the bench and eat an ice-cream, watching couples, happy and glowing, watching families with children, happy and stressed, watching people living their lives in a reality parallel to yours, and then you'd come home and go into a reality parallel to theirs.

The AirPods picked up right where they left off last time.

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear

I wanna fucking tear you apart

You removed the AirPods from your earlobes and exhaled. This wasn’t Raphael's fault. This is She Wants Revenge, you have listened to it a thousand times. You knew the lyrics, they hadn't changed. 

You can't even listen to music anymore. Pull yourself together. 

Get some vitamins from the pharmacy.

Touch some goddamn grass.

***

You stuck to your digital and physical diet until the weekend, and as a reward, nothing happened. No oddly timed emails, no strange messages, no random phone calls. Maybe it was your pitch talk or the vitamins you started taking, but either way, Raphael was on his best behavior, and so were you. 

No Tumblr, no AO3. Didn't even touch Steam. Got into a highbrow podcast about the Roman Empire.

You set a new personal record for days without 'self-indulgence', as Raphael would put it, although that wasn't really the intention. Something always seemed to interrupt - whether it was the loud hum of the fridge (which was always obnoxious) or the flickering light in the hallway (which had been broken for over a week). 

By Friday, you had finally finished the work projects you had been putting off for months. The job wasn't too bad, but it hadn't been any fun for years, if it ever had been. You did the bare minimum to get the paycheck and keep the job, and your employer kept the paycheck at the bare minimum to keep you. If there was anything else you could do, you would do something else.

Still, this was probably the most productive week you had in years. You scrubbed your flat from top to bottom twice and cleared your wardrobe of clothes that no longer fit.

You were proud of yourself.

Gradually your sense of security began to return. You tried not to dwell too much on the incident with the naughty little mouse; if you didn't think about it, it almost felt like it hadn't happened.

On Friday, you plucked up the courage to play BG3 again, wandered through Baldur's Gate, avoiding the House of Hope for the time being, had a few fights, played the graveyard scene with Astarion (daring, but a small part of you hoped it would make Raphael jealous enough to come out again), and shut it down. 

Nothing out of the ordinary.

You hadn't planned to go to Comic-Con. For one thing, it was on the other side of the city, in the business district of the convention centre, so it would take at least an hour to get there. Secondly, going alone just felt... weird.

It was not until Friday night that a little voice in your head started to whisper, "Why not? Maybe you'll meet some like-minded people”. Make some friends you can actually touch (not in a creepy way). 

It's a better chance than endlessly swiping on Bumble.

Maybe you'll meet...

Neil Newbon. If you can get past the hordes of fangirls. Andrew Wincott. No, Andrew Wincott wouldn't be there; you'd checked beforehand. To be honest, hearing his voice might have been too much for your psyche at that moment.

So you decided to go. You went, and it was as fun as you had imagined it would be - that is, hardly any. The convention hall was huge and crowded, rows and rows of stalls, crowds and crowds of people. Live panel discussions, cosplayers, flashing lights, bright colors, chatter, laughter, very loud, very lively.

Raphael wouldn't last a minute in that chaos.

"Hell is other people," you thought to yourself, quoting Sartre. If you ever met Raphael, you'd quote Sartre to him too. He must know that you read intelligent books and not just fanfiction. 

Some people might be comfortable going to events and eating alone in restaurants, but not you. It's even worse being the odd one out in a group of odd ones. How come all the others had someone to take along? Where did they find all those people in this godforsaken city?

You talked to a few people and a few people talked to you. Nothing really took off. Your mind was elsewhere, to be fair. You were looking for something in the crowd. 

Someone.

It was absurd, yes, but so was what happened this week with the mod. You had met a few Raphael cosplayers, three at least, but they were...

Well, of course they weren't him. But they did a great job with the clothes and the hair and the make-up, and one had really great prosthetic horns, and you touched them and admired them and praised that particular Raphael for all his hard work in creating them.

They were real people, not video game characters that had come to life, and neither were you. You looked down at your jeans, at your thighs, and thought you should start jogging again, and felt even less comfortable in your own skin. 

Then Neil Newbon came along and things quickly became too chaotic for you.

You decided to take a break and walked down the street until you came across a cosy café - none of that generic chain stuff, but something that tried hard to be authentic with pretty flowers in the windows.

Sitting alone at a table for two, you looked down at your phone and opened the Discord chat because you came here to talk to some real people.

In the main chat, there was a heated debate about whether devils are allowed to torture mortals into signing contracts. Both sides presented arguments based on lore, edition contradictions, past precedents and personal conviction. 

A man's voice interrupted you as you typed your own very elaborated opinion of hellish law. "Excuse me, may I?" he asked, his words slightly muffled by the AirPods.

"Sure," you replied with practiced friendliness, not even looking up. That was always your default answer. It's not like you can say no to this kind of request anyway. 

People ask and do a lot of things out of politeness. That was precisely why you took the AirPods out of your ears.

The moment you lifted your eyes to meet the man's, you learned the true meaning of the word 'jumpscare'. Your body jerked upwards, the table shook and the coffee cup tumbled - narrowly missing Raphael.

Raphael. 

Not a man who looked like Raphael, not a man who was dressed like him - Raphael. 

You weren't sure if you made any sound or uttered any words. You probably yelped.

What you did do for sure was gawk.

His skin tone identical; hair slicked back just right; eyes uncannily accurate in hue and shape - down to every wrinkle. A perfectly realistic rendering. Not the uncanny valley type, no, perfectly believable. This is exactly what he would look like if he were real and swapped his fantasy clothes for a business suit.

So this is what it feels like to go completely insane.

Very banal, actually. You are having a psychotic breakdown and no one is even looking at you, except for an imaginary devil.

"Oh my, my apologies," Raphael said as he quickly grabbed napkins to mop up the spreading lake of coffee on the table. "I did not mean to scare you."

Oh, but he did, very much. You could not breathe, your chest encased in an iron brace of fear. It's you who needs to apologise, and apologise fast, and apologise a lot, and beg for mercy. Especially for liking the Twitter art of him being spit-roasted between Yurgir and Haarlep. 

If you only knew... you would never have clicked on it... absolutely never... all those posts you wrote... 

"Raphael?" you managed to squeak out. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

This must be how a deer feels in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

He looked at you, very sincere confusion etched across his handsome face. "Excuse me?"

You drew in a shaky breath, your nostrils flaring as you tried to catch a whiff of cherries under the aroma of fresh coffee, not caring how absurd you appeared. Yes? No? Or was that strawberry jam on his croissant? Have your senses gone haywire? Your mind certainly has.

"You're... you're here to cosplay Raphael?" 

The thought tumbled out of your mouth before it had time to fully form in your head. It was the only explanation that made sense... It didn't, but it made more sense than all the others put together.

Raphael moved closer, pulled up a chair and asked, amused: "I beg your pardon, I'm here to do what to whom?"

The voice. The voice was the same. Andrew Wincott's voice. The man had simply stolen his voice. Or had the man stolen it from him? The movements, the mannerisms, the facial expressions. This man could not be Raphael because...

Well, because this man was real. As real as you were. 

"Raphael," you explained. "From the video game. Are you here to cosplay... to play... Raphael?"

The man gave you a look as if questioning your sanity, and rightfully so. You were also sweating bullets - could he see the damp patches under your hoodie? You pressed your arms against your sides; wouldn't want him noticing.

"I'm hardly an actor," Raphael replied with a polite smile, "although there was a time in my youth when I entertained such ambitions."

He chuckled lightly and took a leisurely sip of his coffee. 

"I'm here to enjoy my espresso, nothing more. I... have never been particularly fond of..." he added with the disdain of a typical middle-aged man, "... video games.”

You had no response for that because Raphael wouldn't be into video games either; that much was believable.

"My office is across the street," he said, pointing towards the office complex opposite you. "Precisely there."

The golden sign on the building across from you, Kirkland & Ellis, told you nothing, except that Raphael had an office job and an office space and a desk and all the things that the devil shouldn’t have because the devil invented them to torture the others.

Raphael was dressed like he had just stepped out of a board meeting. A three-piece slate gray tailored suit, white shirt peeking out from underneath, silk tie and matching pocket square. Of all the modern Raphael AUs, you preferred the Professor one, you voted for it, you had Sucharide’s fic bookmarked. The Professor was more, ugh...

Safe.

As for you, you were wearing a hoodie with your university on it. A clean hoodie, but a hoodie nonetheless. What the hell else would you be wearing to Comic Con? You didn't do your hair. Well, putting it in a ponytail is not doing your hair. Why did you not do your hair? 

"I know, I know, you must be wondering why anyone would toil on a weekend," Raphael continued. That was the last thing you were wondering. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."

"Wicked?" you echoed. You looked at the people in the cafe, sure they were staring at the both of you, but they weren't.

"Oh," he chuckled lightly, "it's just an expression – 'No rest for the wicked.' You've never heard it before?"

"Of course I have," you said, momentarily embarrassed. "Never mind...sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Raphael raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I should be the one to apologise for startling you. May I offer you another cup of... ah, what was that... cappuccino? After twelve? Tsk-tsk, young lady".

Not a single modern man could ever manage to say the words "tsk-tsk, young lady" as charmingly. That was Raphael.

"No bother, I can get one myself," you said quickly, about to stand up. 

He raised his hand slightly and put it down to halt your movement, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you, and if he had, if you had felt the skin of his skin, he would have felt more real and you would have died on the spot from a bursting heart.

"I have no doubt about that. But may I treat you? It would be my absolute pleasure”.

Pleasure. The way he said the word was straight obscene. You couldn't handle the word 'pleasure' coming from a man who had been responsible for more than half your orgasms in the last few months.

So in your daze, you mumbled: "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Raphael stood up and walked over to the barista. She acknowledged him, so that's one point for him being real and you not hallucinating. Not only did she acknowledge him but she flashed him a goofy grin - clearly smitten.

Of course she is.

You have to take a picture of him. How do you take a picture of someone without their consent without being a total creep?

You don't. It's in the fucking definition; you can't. But you should. Maybe you'll open your camera roll and see someone completely different, and then you'll know it's time to call for mental health services.

Your phone was buzzing with messages, which you quickly swiped away and went straight to the camera. You took a picture of him from behind while he ordered you a coffee. The barista gave you a “fucking weirdo” look. 

Fuck you, you thought, you have no idea what I am going through right now. Then you switched to the camera roll and checked to see if the photo reflected what you saw.

A broad, fit back of a very attractive middle-aged man with lush brown hair, paying for coffee with cash.

You couldn't decide whether this made you feel better or worse.

When Raphael returned with your cup, you had something for him too. "This is the character I was talking about," you said, a screenshot of virtual Raphael ready on your screen.

Anyone who saw the screenshot would say, "Who motion-captured me?" 

Not Raphael. He barely glanced before shrugging and handing your phone back. "Hmm, I see some resemblance, I guess."

Resemblance? What fucking resemblance? There was no resemblance; he WAS Raphael! You were about to argue but he beat you to it: "Why? Were you hoping to meet this...Raphael?" 

His voice dropped an octave and he looked at you intently. He was flirting - openly, unashamedly.

"I...I was," you stammered out. "He's my favourite character."

Brilliant, brilliant line. Dear diary, today I wanted to meet Raphael, my favourite character from my favourite game. So much for quoting Sartre.

"Well now, I'm flattered," Raphael purred, causing you to wriggle uncomfortably in your seat. "I do bear some physical likeness."

That was a massive understatement. 

The man had a disarmingly charming smile. You tried to remember if Raphael had ever smiled like that in the game. It was mostly scowls and grins and smirks, but this kind of smile? You didn't think so. You caught a glimpse of yourself in his hazel eyes, and that was not Tav; that was you. Just you.

Not that you were unattractive or anything. Average. Maybe even a little pretty on a good day. You didn't like yourself very much. Then again, most people don't. That's how the beauty industry makes its money. 

You got your share of attention, some, nothing to brag about. Had two boyfriends, it didn't work out, you used to care, now you don't. Certainly never got any attention from men who looked like him.

Why should this man be interested in you, why? Ah, yes. Your soul. He probably wants your soul. Is it worth much at all? Is it worth coming all the way to Earth? You wanted to apologize to him for going through all this trouble just for you.

"So this event in the convention hall down the street..." he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall a forgotten name.

"Comic-Con 2024," you supplied. "It's huge in fandom culture. TV shows, video games, that sort of stuff.”

"Ah. Not my kind of entertainment - or my kind of audience, for that matter," Raphael said with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyeing the “Astarion approves” badge on your backpack.  "It does remind me of a deal I signed recently."

"Deal?" you asked in a weak voice. He nodded. "What deal? With who?"

"With who? No, I meant the Microsoft-Blizzard acquisition". 

Ah, that kind of deal. The words felt so reassuring, so real, the acquisition. Raphael would have no idea about these words. Raphael wouldn't say "Microsoft". You mean the real Raphael. What the hell is a 'real' Raphael again?

For the first time, you let go of a little tension. You took a first sip of your coffee and leaned back slightly in your chair. 

"Actually, I think these acquisitions are really harmful for the industry," you said. 

Why did you have to be so confrontational? You didn't have anything clever to say about such things, so you spoke the truth instead. Bad idea.

"How candid of you to say that. Well, I’ll be just as candid with you: I am indeed a villain." Raphael grinned. "I hope you can forgive me." 

There went your short-lived relaxation, which lasted less than a minute.  Raphael had just looked at you and said "I am a villain". Challenge him. Tell him it's him because, well, it's him. It can only be him. Tell him you know it's him, and then...

And then what?

"Everybody's got a job to do, I guess", you managed to utter the most generic phrase in existence.

"Isn't that so..." Raphael replied, pausing for a moment before finishing the sentence with your name.

You did not introduce yourself to him. You were sure of it. Absolutely sure. 

"How do you know my name?" you asked, half rising from your chair, raising your voice and quickly lowering it again. "I didn't tell you my name. How do you know it?"

Raphael gestured to your phone, which lay on the table screen between the two of you. Your work ID card was tucked away in its transparent case - something you hadn't needed for a while.

It had your first and last name on it.

"I saw it right before my eyes," he explained. "I thought it was a hint."

"It wasn't," you said.

"Oh, another faux pas on my part then," he said. "At this rate, I owe you something to make up for all my many transgressions. Perhaps dinner?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. One of your popular Tumblr posts had been an impassioned rant about how Raphael had promised a similar in-game offer but failed to deliver despite the many times you gave him the Crown.

"I seem to have absolutely terrified you, and that was not my intention. I insist on making it up to you. If you allow me, of course. I don't want to impose. Would you allow me to?"

He looked at you with the intensity of a man admiring a beautiful woman, his shoulders back and chin slightly up, trying to present himself from his best angle - something you've seen men do before, but rarely (if ever) to you. It was as if he could hang on every word that came out of your mouth, simply because he enjoyed watching your lips move. Raphael looked like he was in love, for Christ's sake.

Your cheeks grew warm. 

"Yes," you replied.

He kept silent for a bit, savouring your answer. 

"Splendid. Where might I collect you?"

It took you a moment to realise that he was asking for your address. Your personal address. Shouldn't he know it already, if he was Raphael? You replied as nonchalantly as possible:

"Why don't I give you my number and we can arrange to meet at the center?"

His expression darkened slightly; you've seen this look in the game before.

No, you shouldn't have said that. You wanted him to like you. 

Desperately.

"You don't trust me?" Raphael's voice dropped an octave or two, playful and just a little threatening.

You felt his breath on your face (cherries?) and the next second you stopped feeling your legs. The attraction that had been simmering inside you for months started boiling over.

Breathe. Pretend it's not Raphael. A man came up to you in a coffee shop and asked you if you trusted him in that kind of tone, leaning in like that. You know what the sensible thing to do would be - get up and walk away. And if it really was Raphael, get up and run away. 

You remained seated and stayed. 

"Just, ugh..." was all you managed to get out of the jumbled thoughts in your head; two coherent sentences so far into the conversation, and both of them made you sound like an absolute madwoman. 

Raphael laughed.

"Of course you don't trust me, that's only prudent, and you seem to be quite an intelligent young lady. But just so we are clear, you and I: you have nothing to fear from me. What is that number of yours?"

Quite an intelligent young lady, the words echoed in your mind and you remembered your naughty anonymous Tumblr confession: I would suck every last drop of cum out of him as long as he kept praising me.

God, everything you've read with him in the main role. Double penetration, double vaginal penetration, pet play... you weren't even into half of it. You hoped Raphael didn’t think you actually wanted him to do all of the things you read with you.

You just liked clicking on random links.

"Do you need something to write it down or...?" you asked hesitantly.

"I will remember," he said curtly. “I do not forget things easily”.

You realised that there was something far more frightening than anything that had happened before: that he wouldn't remember, that he would never call you, and that this conversation and this meeting would end there. 

So you carefully enunciated each number, then took a pen from your pocket and wrote it down on a napkin: it seemed romantic in the movies, but your handwriting and the coffee stain made it look like a secret message from the madhouse.

He grinned and tucked the napkin into the pocket of his suit.

He took the last sip of coffee and then took your hand in his. He touched you. His skin was warm and real and soft and everything you had ever imagined, his touch surprisingly tender. 

Your whole body responded to that tiny crumb of affection, viscerally. You hadn't realized how famished you were for a touch until that moment.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed them against yours. His lips were soft too, slightly damp from the coffee.

"I am looking forward to our rendezvous," Raphael murmured against your palm. "Ver much so."

Rendezvous.

In any other situation, a middle-aged man kissing your hand would be downright creepy. But this... this was a fever dream, an illusion, anything but reality. Because there was no way this madness could actually be happening to you.

Was it a bad thing? Was reality ever... this? So unpredictable? So exciting? 

You only snapped out of it when the door closed behind him, but you snapped out hard. You practically threw yourself at the next table, where a group of guys were sitting, their appearance screaming video games - backpacks and scruffy beards, Warhammer-emblazoned T-shirts. 

You grabbed one by the shoulder and hissed urgently: "Guys-guys-guys-guys." Your words came like rapid fire. "Tell me that guy doesn't look exactly like Raphael from Baldur's Gate? That one? On the street behind the window?" 

Damn, you sounded desperate.

"Ah, sorry, never played it," came the nonchalant reply before he turned back to his friends' conversation.

"Baldur's Gate," chimed in another, his face lighting up. "Amazing game. Looks like who?"

"Raphael," you said. "The devil."

The guy laughed, but didn't even look where you were pointing.

"Ah, the two-pump chump?"

You shot a quick glance at Raphael. His eyes met yours through the glass window, and they were cold now; his smile was gone. 

I didn't say that, you pleaded with him in your thoughts. That guy said that. That guy over there. I would never say that.

Your defence of his bed skills stretched from Reddit to Tumblr threads, you argued that Haarlep was slandering him, that Raphael was the best fuck there ever was and you personally vouched for that because you fucked him a thousand times in your head.

"Don't call him that, please," you whispered to the guy. He gave you a confused look when you pointed at Raphael again: "Look at him. The one staring at us. Does he look like him?

Is he real? Do you see him too?

"Ah yes," he admitted with a grin on his face, raising the cup of coffee to his lips, "he sort of does. Yes, he does! Well, I hope he doesn't...oh shit! FUCK!".

The guy's face contorted in pain as he clutched his mouth, jumping, cursing, tears streaming down his face. You could see the skin on his lips reddening and blistering.

"What the fuck?! It's fucking boiling! FUCK! "

The barista rushed over to him, spewing apologies as she tried to handle the situation. You took a step back and glanced at Raphael whose lips were moving subtly - two syllables that matched rhythmically: 'bye-bye' or maybe 'ciao-ciao'. 

It didn't have to be 'ta-ta'. He waved nonchalantly at you.

You waved back.

NEXT: Chapter 3, In Which Larian Introduces The Raphael Romance

[wakacreations]

Inspired by the Haruka Karibu stream where Andrew Wincott was being a menace. Enjoy!

[ifritsbignaturals]

got my raphael tattoo let's fucking GO

[belierdigitalis]

In realms where brimstone finds its home, A devil dreams to claim the throne. His eyes light up, ambition swells, Archdevil Supreme of the Nine Hells.

[bg3scenarios]

Raphael: The mouse smiled brightly. It outfoxed the cat! Then down came the claw and that, love, was that.

Karlach: …

Karlach: Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse. I would not eat them here or there. I would not eat them anywhere. I would not eat green eggs and ham. I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.

Raphael: …Can I help you?

Karlach: No ❤️

[lexixxc]

Don’t listen to him(🐙)

Listen to meee

(scratch tav’s face with his tail)

[bitethedevil]

NSFW Raphael Headcanon: Ownership and Alienation

(It’s another Raphael headcanon, my dudes. It’s about themes that I have also explored in my fic ‘The Devil’s Dinner Party’ that I wrote recently, and which inspired this headcanon ʸᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵐᵉ ˢʰᵃᵐᵉˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᵃᵈᵛᵉʳᵗⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ᵒʷⁿ ᶠⁱᶜ, ˢᵘᵉ ᵐᵉ. I think Raphael would 100% alienate someone he wanted simply to redirect their full attention to him and, more importantly, to make them more dependent on him. My thoughts turn to the plaque in his archive that says something along the lines of “Turn your attentions toward to higher things. Turn them towards to me”. Raphael does not only want to own you, he also wants to be the center of your universe.)

TW: Abusive and manipulative relationships.

Raphael would make it into a sport to alienate you from all of your loved ones. Your friends, your family, your allies…And if you already have a partner whom you love very much? Oh, even better.

He would start small when it came to spreading chaos within your relationship. He would insist on meeting alone with you whenever you were with others, so that they would wonder about what was happening behind closed doors. He would make sure to be close to you whenever you met, so that you would smell of him when you returned to your partner. His greetings had started out as a kiss on your hand, and it had now evolved to a kiss on each cheek every time you saw each other. You naively let him go one step further with you each time, because you saw it as simple cordiality.

Raphael would plant doubt in your mind by using everything you ever revealed to him to his advantage. He would speak directly to all your insecurities. Because your partner seems like such a good person, why would they ever want to be with you? Would they really love you if they knew about all the terrible things you have done? They are not like him, of course, who would embrace it all with open arms. He who would accept all of you, sins and all.

He keeps going one step further with you and then one step further again. Had you asked him to stop or told him that he made you uncomfortable, he would comply…but you never did, did you? During one of your meetings, his arms wrap around your waist and he trails kisses up your neck. By the time he whispers in your ear ‘do you want me to stop, sweet mouse?’, you are already too wrapped up in it to tell him ‘no’.

When he finally lures you into his bed, he is not gentle with you. His brutality in the way he takes you is a stark contrast to the gentle and caring lovemaking you have been used to with your partner.

He would cruelly transform into his devil form without warning while inside you, leaving you to yelp and grasp the sheets as your body struggles to accommodate his size. His claws dig into your hips and his sharp teeth leave bloody marks all over your body. The scariest thought is that despite the brutality that is making your entire body ache, the sheer strength of his cambion form reminds you that he is being gentle with you. He could break you with ease if he so pleased.

He makes sure that you cannot move. His hands and tail are gripping around you tightly, making sure you are locked into place and spread open for him while he fucks you without mercy. Occasionally he moves a hand to pull your hair to force you to look at him, or he moves it to grip around your neck to leave you gasping for air.

Your body hurts, but it is also intoxicating. It should all be too much for you, but to your great shame, you find it arousing…cathartic even, to be treated how you think you deserve to be treated. A fact that Raphael is well-aware of and using to his advantage.

When he is done with you, your body has been painted red, blue, and purple. Scars, bruises, bite-marks…all part of the morbid painting Raphael has created on your body with his teeth and claws. While you can barely move from the aftermath of his brutal treatment, he admires his handiwork and the underlying meaning of the motif: His.

It is almost as good as the expression on your face, now that you have come down from your high. Raphael has successfully proven to you that what he was saying was right: You are a bad person. He sees the self-loathing, guilt, and regret starting to show in your eyes and he is feasting on it. The exact same feelings that will inevitably turn you towards him, and only him, once your partner sees the marks Raphael has left and leaves you.

Raphael will gladly remind you of his little lessons over and over again, should you ever forget: You are not a good person, you don’t deserve love, and no one but him will ever accept you for it.

[sklepick]

I made a small picture for one wonderful fanfic that’s made by @certifieddilfenjoyer

Thank to the author for their responsiveness, erudition and attentiveness. If you like Raphael, like a well-thought-out world, slow burn and empathetic, complex characters - go and read it, it's gold.

[sadcambion]

They'll be all you remember.

Raphaël x f!Tav (reader) x Haarlep

TW: Questionable consent (The reader is under substance), rough sex

You were in a large luxurious red four-poster bed. Your mind was fuzzy, you remembered nothing. Your pussy was hot, sore, a warm, creamy substance flowed between your legs.

The little mouse, wanting to outsmart the cat, went to the fox. But the fox was not what he claimed to be.

And whatever you wanted to do when you came here, you seemed to have failed miserably.

You were nothing but a sex-hungry thing, seeking to be defiled. Haarlep’s voice spoke triumphantly, a smirk on the face. He was lying on the bed next to your amorphous form on the bed.

"Well, I wonder what face Raphael will make when he sees his little mouse here, so desperate…"

You don’t know who you are. You don’t know what this place is. You don’t know anything. Haarlep has poisoned your mind, his saliva has a phenomenal effect on you. Your misty eyes faintly rise towards his. You’ve been used so much in the last few hours...

"Raphael? Who is he?"

The smile of the incubus grows. He seems to delight to see you in this pitiful state.

"You know him pretty well, little mouse."

This nickname awakens something in you, but your mind in limbo is not able to remember … A shiver runs through your spine.

"I do not remember…"

Your body, still trembly , is trying softly to get closer to the incubus. It seems that he was not dead-handed with his aphrodisiac… He stops you, his claws gently sticking into the soft skin of your wrist.

"He’ll be here any second, sweetie, you better keep some for him… he’s very possessive with you, you know."

Another chill runs through your body, you’re so exposed and vulnerable, oozing from Haarlep’s seed. Obviously, you are not aware of the danger, the risks. You’re just a cock-thirsty thing and your body is hot with desire despite your exhaustion. You don’t protest when Haarlep stops you.

Somewhere in your mind you try to remember your name, you also try to remember who Raphael is. But nothing, your head is like an empty shell.

A man arrives, his complexion is tanned, his eyes brown, brown hair, he is dressed richly. He looks at you raising an eyebrow, the rest of his expression was indecipherable when seeing you in this bed, naked with his incubus, completely ravaged. He approaches, his calm steps betrayed no emotions. He looks at Haarlep, his eyes fixed on you.

"What’s she doing here?"

He was looking at you, his eyes slightly surprised masked by his neutral expression. This thing… It wasn’t Tav, it wasn’t you.

Haarlep is smirking as you look at the two men, you are lost in the wave in your spirit.

"Our little thief seems to have failed..."

He frowns. Of course, what else would you do here? You had nothing to do here. He is both mad with rage when hearing that you had come to him to steal his hammer and also mad with rage that you fell into the claws of Haarlep. Nevertheless, he will use this to his advantage. He looks at you, you perceive a mad anger in his eyes but also regret. You do not understand. Who is this man? Why is he looking at you like this? Raphael speaks slowly, calmly, despite the rage that is boiling in him.

"I never thought you’d fall so low, Tav."

"I don’t understand, what have I done?"

You look up at the man, seemingly indifferent to being naked in front of him, full of incubus sperm. Haarlep observes in silence, contemplating your rather wide hips and your bouncy buttocks. 

You don’t remember anything, but something in your mind, something far away screams to you that this situation is not normal, that you shouldn’t like it. Raphael look hardly Haarlep.

"Why did you drug her?"

Haarlep smiles, it’s a bit provocative considering the sharp look of Raphael. The incubus sigh before leaning towards you, his lips hovering over yours.

"Master... isn’t it better when she’s totally malleable? So eager..."

He speaks softly, his voice being lewd. He crushes his lips on yours, all in front of his master. It makes its tongue penetrate into your mouth, its saliva sending you again tingling in the lower abdomen. You kiss him greedily, lost in the throes of pleasure. He drugs you a little more every second of the kiss... His tongue plays with yours.

He finally retreats, before looking at Raphael.

"See? Isn’t that better? She wants more..."

Raphael looks at the contemptuous creature who has just kissed his little mouse while undressing gently. It is clear that his intentions are just as sinful as those of Haarlep. You feel like you’re going crazy wet when you see that man you can’t remember, naked. The devil smiles wickedly looking at your quivering body of desir. You have nothing of that woman he respected. You just looked like a whore.

It takes its shape of cambion before your misty eyes, empty of all emotion, except excitement. He climbs on the bed, his hands touching your throat and breasts. Your red nipples have been hard for so long. Raphael seems to think at something.

"Mh.. When she is fully conscious, she will face her actions. But while waiting..."

He smiled ominously, his two hands pressing your breasts as you begin to moan, they were sensitive and painful because of the many solicitations of Haarlep.

"While waiting why not enjoy what I have at hand... That’s the least you can do, isn’t it, little mouse?"

Again this nickname... But you are too in the mist to raise the threat of his words. You don’t remember him, but he seems less fun than Haarlep. He seems more sneaky, more sinister. More... Diabolical.

Once again, your mind is screaming that nothing like this is normal.

"I did nothing. No?"

He laughs insidiously before turning you on your stomach, your soft body can do nothing to prevent it, and anyway you don’t want it, you want it, you want to be soiled by his demonic sperm, you want to feel his cock spread yours walls to their limits. He raises your hips, your ass in the air, fully exposed. Your pussy drips on the sheets.

"Oh, trust me, when I’m done having fun with you, you’ll remember..."

At the same time Haarlep who obviously hasn’t had enough of you is kneeling in front of your face, his length again hard, proudly erect.

Raphael positions himself behind you, the tip of his sex against your hole already mistreated and degoulinant of your juice and that of the incubus. You moan weakly at the sensation, Words try to come out of your mouth but Haarlep does not wait and pushes his cock in, making you silent.

You tighten the sheets under you, on your knees. Raphael also seems to be tired of being patient and he enters you in a hard and deep push by seizing your hips. Most of your screams are muffled against the cock of the incubus and unlike Raphael’s sloppy and angry blows, Haarlep is sweeter, at least, as much as he can be.

You feel the hard length of the devil entering deep within you. Your walls already dirty and already irritated because of the previous assaults tighten as a protest but given your muffled moaning and your buttocks which rise even more to allow him to take you deeply, it is clear that you want that. Your empty, drugged mind wants this. 

It violently hits your cervix and you almost bite Haarlep, the sensation makes you crazy. You can hear the cambion giggling behind you as the incubus grabs your hair hard, pumping his cock further down your throat. Haarlep speaks softly, between some moaning.

"Don’t bite, keep being a good girl for me..."

At the same time, the devil whose wings cast a sinister shadow on your naked and mistreated body plunders you relentlessly, hitting your collar to hurt you. It’s too deep, too strong, and you can smell it despite Haarlep’s aphrodisiac saliva.

The incubus holds your hair firmly and a trickle of saliva flows down your chin.

In the midst of the two evil creatures, you look like a wreck.

Your body trembles and almost begins to convulse, you can no longer, your body is hot. You are overstimulated on all sides and struggling.. And yet you still want it. Your hand slips between your legs to start rubbing your clitoris. Raphael firmly grasps your wrist, stopping you as you feel his cock throbbing in your warm walls, it is still against your cervix...

"You are really insatiable..."

He forcefully tightens your wrist with one hand and you feel that it will leave you bruises. At the sight of Haarlep’s soft moaning he also seems close, the tip of her sex rubbing your throat. Your throat hurts you. Your pussy too. You hear Raphael panting from time to time.

You feel them filling you simultaneously. Raphael’s burning seed was landing directly in your womb already so full because of Haarlep. Your orgasm strikes at the same time, imprisoning his cock in you, tears of pleasure bead at the corner of your eyes and Haarlep firmly holds your head, forcing you to swallow his precious seed while he ends up grunting.

Haarlep retreats, his body still quivering slightly while Raphael remains anchored deep inside you. His clawed hand goes through your messy hair, almost affectionately despite the circumstances and his hoarse voice is full of dark promises, you will not get away with it.

"Enjoy my dear, the rest will not be as pleasant..."

No, you shouldn’t like it, it’s wrong, so wrong, and yet... you find yourself wanting to be the whore of the devil and Haarlep.

[infernally-fond]

WIP!

Is this a thing? It’s gonna be.

[tellmeallaboutit]

"He Who Laughs Last" fan art: Samael (Son Of Raphael & Judith) and Christabella

I got very pleasantly surprised today by this super beautiful art for "He Who Laughs Last" (all the related material can be found under the hwll tag now) by @carpemirobolante . THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Samael right after his birth in the chapter "Galilee".

Christabella (the devil mistress of both Judith and Raphael, infernal lawyer), in the chapter "For Whom The Hell Tolls".

[nikolailantsovhoe]