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tavyliasin · 9 days

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The Scent of Cinnamon 4 - The Morning, The Tailor, and The Fit of the Glove

Raphael wakes up to the consequences of the deal he made the night before, and realises Haarlep has no clothes to wear save for his own which are somehow a poor fit on his copied body. A trip to Waterdeep sparks more conflict as the two fiends begin to find their places with each other, pushing each others boundaries. Haarlep also has to reckon with the consequences of their end of the bargain, with shadows of their past biting at their heels. 5,139 Words - AO3 Link Click Here

--- Summary: The pair head out to Waterdeep to a tailor who can make something for Haarlep to wear other than Raphael's old clothes that feel like a poor fit on the incubus' borrowed body. Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep SPICE Rating: 0.5/5 Content Warnings: Mild Power Play, Mild Angst,

Spoilers Vague House of Hope and Act 3, but most of this series is focused on what came before. Canon Compliance The mention of a certain mad mage should match up roughly to the time he was actively in Waterdeep. But even the official lore is inconsistent on that one so we're running Rule of Cool. Also, the perfume is the exact canon scent according to 2 pieces of in game lore (Yurgir saying Raphael smells of cherry, and a letter of Raphael's that carries the scent of Palmarosa and Black Pepper in his perfume) Other Notes This is really to explore the dynamics between the two as they get to know each other outside the boudoir...don't worry, they'll be back there soon enough.

Song Pairing Everything You Hate by Project Vela "Looks like the time has come to pull the plug on the weak Your independence gone, control is not what it seems It's time to rise up and take it into the streets The life support is cut, the transformation complete

My actions don't seem so clean You're out there pulling the strings Anything any cage that couldn't hold Has escaped and it's out of your control Everything you ever hoped that you could be Only exists in a fake reality

You and I are one and the same One reflection bound by different names Recognised that you have become everything you hate Everything you hate"

--- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT --- ---

The Morning, The Tailor, and The Fit of the Glove

Raphael stirred in his sleep, suddenly aware of an unfamiliar weight resting on his leg. It felt like his tail was draped over something too, yet there was nothing beneath when he tested moving it. The awareness of his own body began to spread through his consciousness, piece by piece. There were ghosts where aches might have been, even if pain had healed his muscles still felt the echoes of whatever it was he had-

Whoever it was. And that who was snoring quietly on the pillow beside him, their tail draped over his leg, their hand resting lightly on his waist.

The previous day came rushing back as the last vestiges of a far more peaceful dream were banished from the cambion’s reeling mind. His eyes blinked open to see exactly what he was dreading: the imperfect mirror of his own face, a slight smile tugging at the corners of copied lips, but a different scent drifting on their warm breath.

Cinnamon.

Ah. That was it. The incubus and their deal, the contract signed in ink and in lust, his body the very page that they had inscribed their presence upon.

Raphael almost expected their eyelids to reveal the vivid emerald as they began to slowly open, but instead there was only the infernal fire burning around their pupils as they met his gaze.

“Mmm~ I could get used to this~” They purred, stretching their wings lazily behind them before pulling the sheets closer around them.

The cambion already felt his ire rising. He might have invited this…this…Harlot to his bed, but that did not give them the right to treat it like a luxury resort. He kicked his leg free of their tail and threw the covers off the pair of them as he forced his exhausted body out of the comfort and warmth of the night.

“Five more hours~” Haarlep pulled the sheets back over them, covering their face, but not before he caught the hint of a grin spreading across it.

“Petulant creature.” Raphael waved his hands in a swift motion, a few brief words tugging the threads of the Weave into ripping the covers from the incubus’ grip, tossing them out of reach on the floor.

“Spoilsport.” They groaned, brows furrowing and the fire in their eyes flashing dangerously as they scowled at him. “I am the one with the power in this room, by your own contract’s terms.”

“And do you wish to spend your days in here completely nude?” Raphael was already pulling on the fresh clothes that had been set aside for him. A modest outfit, but one that nonetheless showed his figure. “Or will you concede that you need at least one outfit you feel comfortable in? My clothes will fit you, but I suspect they are not to your taste.”

“Clothing is hardly a necessity for my line of work~ Do you not like what you see, Archduke?” It seemed the incubus had no intention of ceasing their insulting nickname, a completely transparent attempt to rile him up. “Made to your very own specifications, no less! Aren’t you curious what it might feel like to-”

“No.” He snapped, turning away as he continued to fuss over the fastenings of his shirt, frustrated by his fingers refusing to obey him. He wasn’t ready to accept that the incubus was flustering him, even the shadow of that thought entering his mind was more infuriating than the sound of their voice. His voice. Not his voice… They were like an echo, distorted by the landscape it ricocheted from. Within every word, he could still hear-

—

“Let me help you, then.” Haarlep had grown tired of trying to cling to the comforts of silk sheets for now. Their lips just brushed the pointed tip of Raphael’s ear as they wound their arms around his waist to fix the fastenings he was having such trouble with. “There. Not that difficult, was it?~” The cambion shivered at their touch, stepping quickly away from where their naked body had pressed against his back, but their tail wound around his wrist to turn him back to face them. “Could you not-”

“Wait.” They cut him off again, firm yet soft. His collar was crooked… The incubus carefully straightened the piece, pulling the ruffles into place and ensuring they were even. “The master of the house has appearances to keep up, does he not?”

“Quite so.” Raphael clawed back his dignity with the reply, reaching forward to fix Haarlep’s hair, even though they both well knew that not a strand was out of place. “You will have to wear something for now. Wait here.”

Haarlep watched as he strode confidently to an old armoire, searching through a variety of finery that was neatly pressed and stored within. It seemed most of the options were objectionable, until he pulled out a simple outfit in a near-black tone. It would have looked absurdly severe on the cambion himself, a poor match for the line of his jaw or the hint of apprehension in the expression above it. “It will do, for now.”

“Beggars, Harlot, make for poor choosers.” He held it out at arm’s length, clearly trying to avoid the ire in the incubus’ gaze.

“The day I beg you for anything, all of Avernus will be colder than Cania.” Haarlep snatched the outfit from the cambion’s claws, quick to remind him in every moment of his place in this room, loathe to leave the one space they retained control.

“Perhaps if you play your role well, you will have no need to do anything more than ask.” Raphael turned away, as if to give them privacy to put on their clothes. An absurd notion at this point, but nevertheless they began to dress as he continued. “We have our deal, there is no reason for us to be adversaries, you know.”

“Hmmm maybe so,” Haarlep wound their arms around his waist again, half dressed but their shirt still open, claws teasing at his hips as they held him close. “But it’s so much more fun to feel you squirm like this~”

“Degenerate.” Raphael’s tail swung around and whipped their thigh - hard enough to be felt, but not to hurt. He gasped. “Mmmm harder~” Haarlep moaned in his ear, relishing at the shiver they felt beneath their fingertips, drifting lower already. “You won’t even feel the pain, just the pleasure.”

—

The cambion shuddered. They were right, he felt a brief but clear rush of heat… “Absurd.” He lied.

“There’s the trick, Archduke,” Haarlep purred, the bitch dropping to an even more seductive tone. The imitation of his voice barely sounded familiar, the tone of their previous voice snaking through his senses far stronger while he couldn’t see them behind him. “It’s only arousing because your body likes it. The pleasure I feel is yours, in more ways than one. Don’t you want to try it out? Find the limits of your own debauchery-”

“We are going to be late if you don’t stop this nonsense.” Another lie, though this one was more believable than the last. The tailor would wait as long as necessary, he had enough of a hold on them that they would not consider turning him away even if he marched them out of bed to sew a ballgown in the middle of the night. “Fine~ Have it your way.” Their touch left him immediately, his body suddenly colder for the lack of their warmth pressing against him. It took conscious effort to stop his tail from reaching out to find them. “Then tell me, if we are to rush to this appointment of yours… Will this suffice?”

Raphael turned around to take a look at the incubus dressed in an outfit he had not considered wearing in decades. It was a little tight on them, and the shirt had been left half open to expose part of their chest in a way that had no right to be so tempting. Their tail was twitching impatiently, yet their wings spread behind them as they struck a swift pose and flashed him a grin. He turned away again, reluctant to look any longer in case their eyes alone drew him closer. Outside the room he would be in control again…at least on the surface. “Come.”

“Hah! I’m not that easy-”

“You know precisely what I meant.” He stepped beyond the door and into the hallway, subconsciously standing a little taller and straighter as he wore the power of his title like a monarch’s cloak. “Hurry up.”

—

Haarlep followed Raphael through the House until they arrived at a room with a shimmering portal, several short steps leading up to it.

“An easier method of transportation, no point in wasting energy on magic when permanent spells can be cast.” The cambion waved dismissively towards the huge arch and the warped reality within it.

“And where, precisely, does it lead?” Haarlep eyed it suspiciously, unwilling to play a game of ‘follow-the-leader’ without at least some idea of whether they would be treading the ice fields of Cania or the muddy streets of a Halfling village. “Waterdeep.” Raphael replied simply, stepping forwards and stopping just short to beckon them to hurry. “I did not take you for one so hesitant.” “And I did not take you for someone to rely on mortals for your tailoring.” They didn’t bother to keep the disdain from their voice, although they did step obediently forwards all the same.

“One more thing,” the cambion turned to face them, a swift casting of a spell rendering them completely invisible. “You are not permitted to speak until we arrive.”

Haarlep pursed their lips, hands forming some swift and unsavoury gestures to spell out their displeasure without any verbal component.

“I can see invisibility, Haarlep. Know your place.” Without further warning, Raphael transformed his body to his human guise - clothes shifting to fit the smaller frame - and walked through the portal.

—

The room was dusty and poorly kept, despite Raphael’s strict instructions - he made a note in the back of his mind to have stronger words with the diabolist maintaining his portal in what should have been the upper floors of a well kept mansion. Boxes were piled to the sides, half open and half labelled in scrawled handwriting.

“That looks like the writing of a madman.” Haarlep’s shimmering form stood beside him, peering at one of the boxes. “Not entirely inaccurate,” Raphael ceded the point, but not without irritation. “You were, however, told explicitly to be silent.”

“First, we have ‘arrived’, so you should be more specific if you mean another destination.” The whisper of their smirk was more audible through their tone than it was visible on their face as he felt a dull ache nagging at the back of his skull. “But that aside, this place is clearly uninhabited. There’s no risk of being discovered.”

“Must I train you in both manners and obedience?” He turned to face the warped space that concealed Haarlep’s insolent form from most onlookers.

“Hardly necessary. Besides,” they stepped close, strong hands taking a grip of his jaw and moving his mouth with their words. “If you move those lips just right it will seem as if you’re the one talking, given how you have burdened me with your own voice.”

Raphael swatted their hands away, fixing his hair and collar quickly as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “If I must remind you to behave once more, you will live in that outfit for your first decade. Or perhaps you would rather never leave that room, if you are so hellbent on retaining your control? I do not have to cross the threshold, nor do I have to send anyone in to sate your needs unless I choose to.”

—

Haarlep bristled. They knew that he had power and control, that both of their deals now bound them to him with all the fine print that came with it, but they had not considered that the young and overconfident fiend would…would…

—

Raphael faltered. He could feel the tension, the change in their demeanour in an instant. They still stood behind him wearing his body, but it now seemed like a poorer fit on them than the clothing that groaned at the seams. Even their stature seemed to shrink back in that moment, the unseen shadow of their presence retreating.

An unusual sense scratched the back of his mind. Guilt? Unthinkable. And yet…

“I am no tyrant, incubus. Stick to your word and I shall be true to mine. But no more words for now, not until I dispel the invisibility shrouding your form.” He began to lead the way, loathe to waste any more time. Halaster could be reprimanded later for leaving the portal in such a state.

—

It took half an hour before they reached their destination. The sun was far too bright, the incubus cursing that invisible wings could do nothing to stop the wretched beams from searing their eyes. Haarlep kept quiet for the remainder of the journey, following carefully in step behind Raphael, wings and tail tucked in so they would not catch a passer-by unawares.

For his part, the cambion acted much as a human noble might. He strolled down the streets as if he owned them and all who walked through them. Every now and then, he stopped to greet someone, to slip a note into a hand, or to show his disdain or appreciation for the quality of goods on market stalls.

But for their own part, Haarlep was an invisible shadow. They stalked behind him with heavy steps as if their own feet fit as poorly as the boots upon them. Every now and then, they stopped with him to adjust their shirt, to rub at their head from the weight of the horns above, or to swallow back the worry that he might decide to leave them locked up to starve after all.

The bell of the shop rang with a disgustingly joyful tinkling, crinkling their nose into a grimace. Luckily, they were able to fix their expression into something more neutral as Raphael removed the invisibility spell that kept them hidden.

“So,” the tiefling shopkeeper peered over her glasses, “this is what all the fuss is about?”

“Uphold your bargain and you will find your competitor out of business by the end of the tenday.” Raphael replied, before gesturing towards the incubus. “They require proper clothing. Should you supply something that meets their needs, you will have my repeat business.”

“Surely someone in one of the hells would be a more appropriate choice to dress a devil such as yourself.” She shrugged, stepping around the counter nonetheless. Her outfit, Haarlep noted, was plain but well fitted. A measuring tape was draped around her shoulders, and numerous pins were strategically held in the apron of her dress along with a couple of pouches holding scissors and threads.

“They are not me. Which is information that will not be leaving this room, unless you particularly relish the idea of centuries in the hells as a pathetic lemure.” His voice left no room for argument, a confidence that seemed a strong contrast to the whimpering and begging mess he had been at the end of the previous night. Haarlep watched closely. They had a role as a spy to uphold, after all.

“They look exactly like you.” The tailor walked around Haarlep now, assessing them in a way that felt far too much like their first meeting with Raphael the day before. Their tail flicked behind them, still unused to the smooth tip in place of the arrowhead shape of their own body. Their body…which now seemed more like an outfit that had been zipped up into a neat little bag and stored away in a locked closet out of their reach. But he had the key. That’s all that mattered.

“You need new glasses, they look nothing like me.” Raphael’s absurd response snapped Haarlep back out of their thoughts. He transformed swiftly into his fiendish appearance, and gestured to the incubus as the tiefling looked back and forth between the two. “See? The ruse would only fool someone who lacks insight.”

The tiefling seemed to agree to appease him as she began to take notes on the fittings in a small book from her pocket. Haarlep, on the other hand, was stuck on his words. They were a near perfect copy, they knew that. The deal they made was important, and they had made sure to memorise his body as carefully as he had theirs…though perhaps… His eyes met theirs for a moment, a light hint of a blush behind already crimson cambion cheeks.

—

“You should undress.” The tailor stepped back and gestured to a partitioned area of the store, as Raphael pulled his gaze from the incubus’ blazing eyes.

He was perplexed. How did she not see the obvious differences? This wasn’t a mirror before him - not quite. He swore he could see the green in the depths of their eyes, the curve of their jaw and shape of their ears a little sharper of an angle than his own. The way they moved was certainly no copy, either… That would need some work later, he decided. The sway of their hips was decidedly too seductive-

“You didn’t tell me what you want me to make for them.” The tiefling was eyeing him over the rim of her glasses. “There was all the rush to be available immediately, but as you are unsatisfied with them wearing your own clothes I assume it is to be something different. Something bespoke.”

“What do you think?” Raphael looked down at her, for a moment forgetting to choose his words more carefully to keep the power balance strongly in his favour.

“Clothes have a purpose, Raphael. They must not only fit the wearer, but be appropriate for the role they must fill. One who is your copy, yet is not supposed to fill your usual role? I need more information than that.” She tapped her pen on her notebook, not bothering to turn around as Haarlep stepped out from behind the screen in only the loose silken underwear he’d given them. Even those seemed like a terrible match…

“Start from the undergarments. My outer clothes will suffice for any other needs for a time.” He gestured over to the incubus standing proudly, and almost entirely naked, in the middle of the shop.

—

“Arms out.” The tiefling was clearly unperturbed by Haarlep’s almost naked form as they followed her instruction, mildly amused at the little stepladder she had to use to reach their shoulder. Raphael had taken a seat over to one side, watching closely but mostly leaving the woman to her work.

“If he told you to work from undergarments, why do you need the measure of my arms?” They couldn’t help but feel perplexed by her choice.

“It would be a shame to cover you up, what with all these muscles,” she cast a tentative glance at Raphael for a moment though he seemed not to care in the slightest, “but clothing doesn’t just cover. The right garments can enhance what you have instead.”

Haarlep laughed, the first genuine moment of amusement all day breaking the tension that had been eating at the back of their mind. “I assure you, I do not need any of my anatomy to be enhanced.” They licked their lips seductively and glanced down. “I can prove it, if you like~”

“Not here, Harlot.” Raphael snapped, earning their impudent tongue-out expression as a response. “Just…work with her. Find something you would be comfortable in.”

Their expression changed just as quickly again, switching to one of quiet contemplation. Comfort? He hadn’t been concerned with their comfort before now. Even in his sleep, it had been a fight to keep enough of the sheets to cover themselves. The contract had been business, the deal itself pleasure, and all they shared since was…confusing was about the only way they could describe it.

“What would you like? Are there any materials or styles you prefer? Or is there a particular look you wish to emulate?” The tiefling had largely ignored their quips and offer, measuring their chest and waist easily, now wrapping the tape around their hips.

“Leather has its appeal…” Haarlep considered the options, the purpose they would have in Raphael’s deals. “Something close fitting - cover as little as you can - and it must project power.” Their eyes flashed across to their Master, as he would call his role, who remained nonplussed…aside from the momentary flick of his tail betraying a hint of the thoughts behind his calm expression.

“Is that agreeable?” The tailor turned to Raphael herself now, looking for his approval as the one purchasing the garments.

“Whatever they want. I will reserve my judgement for when I see the look complete.” Even his voice was measured and calm. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes, yes. That will do.” She finished measuring their inner leg with a quick and practised motion, avoiding any intimate contact much to Haarlep’s disappointment. They were wondering if the cambion might squirm in his seat if they let themselves get a little excited by the simple touch-

“Go and get dressed again. There is more to do.” Raphael distracted them from their amused thoughts. It was hard not to roll their eyes at his tone, but they held their reaction in check for now.

Until they could be certain, until they had proof of what he was really going to be like… They didn’t want to test their luck. Though they were sated now - the deal had been more than an adequate feast - their body still remembered hunger. Their nerves recalled too easily how they could ache if left untouched, unfed. Their heart was far too familiar with the hurt of trying to get by with nothing but their name and a bare shred of hope that they were still pretty enough to secure a meal...

And now they didn’t even have that name, nor the body they cared for so carefully to ensure they wouldn’t starve.

The clothes they pulled on behind the screen once more felt as ill-fitting as their skin, laced with those same clashing scents that Raphael wore to cover the hint of the infernal that lingered around any who travelled in and out of the hells.

At least that was something they might be able to change.

—

Raphael paid the tailor an advance for the materials, tracking in his mind exactly which pawns he would need to move to ensure the rest of that deal was upheld. Behind him, the incubus seemed just as uncomfortable as they had been in front of the portal, when he had snapped at them.

He sighed and rubbed at the wrinkle forming at the bridge of his nose. He would need to be more careful with how he treated the spy. It didn’t matter much what Mephisto found out from them, but if he were to be so foolish as to allow himself to spend the night naked and vulnerable with them again… A shudder crept uninvited down his spine as he cast the invisibility upon them once more. That was dangerous. Foolish. If he were to die here in the streets of Faerun it would be little more than a painful inconvenience. He would simply reappear in Avernus.

But if he were to be slain in the hells?

He pushed the thought from his mind, resolving himself to be more careful. Haarlep must know their place, but should not be backed into a corner. They were strong, cunning, and they were likely to learn more of his own weaknesses by living in his body.

“Before we go,” they almost startled him, unseen hand on his shoulder and voice quiet near his ear, “I should like to stop at a perfumery.”

“And why would that be?” Raphael hissed back, pausing with his hand on the door.

“Your fragrance… It isn’t quite right. There are too many scents in there battling for dominance. You should have something complex, but not overwhelming.” Haarlep didn’t sound insulting, despite the implications of their words.

It took barely a moment to cast Sending, projecting his voice to their mind and allowing the reply to come back to him silently from their thoughts. Perhaps conversing might be acceptable like this, especially on his own terms as he would have to initiate each part.

—

It took a while to find a place that Haarlep approved of. Raphael even seemed willing to indulge them in a little more casual conversation as they walked, the sendings passing back and forth. In truth, the first shop might have been truly atrocious but the second was more than acceptable. Yet here they were, at the door to the fifth.

“Please tell me this one is good enough for you. I have contracts to write and precious little time to waste on further frivolous ventures.” Somehow Raphael always seemed to use up every one of the 25 words the spell allowed, his voice echoing in their head.

For a moment, Haarlep wondered if their reply would sound like they did now, the echo of Raphael’s own deep tones filtering into his mind like his own thoughts betraying him, or perhaps… “It seems like it will suffice. As long as nobody tries to spray you as soon as you walk through the door. Again.”

They slipped through the door behind him as he entered the shop, careful not to allow the door to remain open for a suspicious amount of time. They kept their steps light and took a good look around the place. It might not have been as substantial as the third establishment, but they were fast running out of options.

“As you are so insistent that I require something different, I suggest you tell me what the ingredients might be, Harlot. Make it quick, though.”

“Pick up the bottles I point at and hold them so I can sniff them.” Haarlep replied quickly, already pointing to a few.

“Can I help you?” The elderly shopkeeper was watching Raphael closely, and seemed anxious in his silence.

“If I bring you several of your scents, can you make something based on those?” Raphael gestured to the shelves as he asked, earning a smile from the man behind the desk as he continued. “I will, of course, pay you handsomely should your perfume meet my exacting standards.” The flicker of his eyes towards the incubus was for them alone this time, but the perfumier seemed to already be counting his profits.

“Yes, yes! Go ahead, I have many years of experience, I’m sure I can mix just the thing for you!”

Without the sending to reply to, Haarlep could only gesture invisibly as needed. Several bottles were pulled from shelves and opened with dramatically wide gestures to waft the scent closer to where they stood.

It was difficult to decide, but there had to be a balance. The cherries suited him, and something strong would have to disguise the hints of the hells that carried on his clothes and skin after travelling between planes. Something spicy too, and the blend needed an allure that could draw in a wide range of potential clients.

And, naturally, it mustn’t clash with cinnamon.

All of this was relayed to the perfumier who made notes with impressive speed for a man of his years, selecting and rejecting several of the bottles himself. Eventually he seemed ready to mix a selection of oils into a glass flask, balancing it out with the base and blending the scents carefully.

“Palmarosa, black pepper, cherry…”

“The contents matter less than the result. May I?” Raphael took the bottle that was handed over, waving it dramatically through the air once more. “Ahh, interesting.” He looked over to Haarlep, finally allowing a Sending. It was not lost on them how he controlled even their private communication for now… “Well? I have no objections to this one. Quite to the contrary, it seems very fitting. I may concede that you both have adequate taste.”

“Finally,” they began, unable to hide their frustration at being left to mime for so long. “It’s close, but it needs one more thing. Not much, but it needs some cinnamon. If I am to play your role, that is…”

“Agreed. There must be as few loose ends as possible. Our scents should match as closely as our appearance, voice…” This time he didn’t use the limit of the spell’s words. He seemed momentarily torn and distracted before he stopped pretending to sniff the bottle and handed it back to the man waiting expectantly at the counter. “A little cinnamon, and that will suffice.”

“Of course!” The perfumier seemed delighted by the suggestion. “Warmth and spice, to balance out the bitter and cold edge, an unusual blend but it should work quite nicely, quite nicely indeed!”

—

Several very long minutes later, the pair were back out on the street with a small bag in hand and an order left with the Perfumier to prepare a much larger batch along with some infused soaps and candles.

The journey back to the portal was somewhat swifter and than before, but at least the time of day meant the sun was now more of a pleasant warmth than a blinding presence above. Raphael kept a swift pace, though with his human guise his stride was somewhat shorter than the incubus’ who had a far more relaxed stroll behind him.

The mansion holding the portal was just as empty as it had been before, and Raphael made a mental note to contact Blackcloak soon. The mage might have been driven mad in the past, but he was still powerful, useful, if he remembered to hold up his end of certain contracts. The cambion shuddered… Halaster had once come far too close to binding him into service. That would not stand. Neither would he allow-

Haarlep tapped his shoulder. A quick gesture and mime a reminder that they were following his instruction not to speak out loud.

Raphael dismissed the invisibility and turned to face the incubus. They were quiet a moment longer, expression unreadable as they awaited his instruction. “The day appears to have passed us by far faster than intended.” He broke the silence first, the insignificant statement preferable to the uncomfortable stagnation of the air hanging heavily around them as if still carrying the echoes of earlier words spoken in haste. “Well, time does fly, so they say.” Haarlep shrugged, a hint of mischief tugging at their lips once more. “I always favoured the night, anyway.”

--- --- ENDING NOTES --- --- A little more angst and plot for our dear incubus, but the night is theirs and that's where the next chapter will lead.

Keep Reading the Next Chapter Here!

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #haarlep #bg3 raphael #the scent of cinnamon #fanfic #bg3 #prequel #bg3 prequel #Spotify

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tavyliasin · 4 months

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A Prequel? Haarlep, is that you?...

Hello darlings~ I have landed where all writers who love Haarlep end up eventually, imagining their first meeting with Raphael, how they came to be in the cambion's service, what they were like before taking his form. Both are probably around 120 years old, so they are well established in their own rights, but by their races' standards they are young and inexperienced. I'm only half working on this between my request list for now, because the idea won't let me go, but have a few little previews below the cut, including a version of their appearance that a very talented Tav-maker has made with their lovely mods~ Other renditions of them based on my imagined description are more than welcome, I do very much enjoy seeing different interpretations. Preview below the cut! If you'd rather wait for the first chapter to drop, give me a few more days while I work on a few deadline pieces ahead of event exchanges and I'll publish it on AO3 <3

The first appearance of the un-named incubus.

A young fiend stood before a glimmering doorway, uncertain of when precisely they were meant to cross the threshold. They were dressed in a black silk outfit that gave them an appearance of masculine androgyny. Dark tan skin and bright green eyes might have looked human, if it weren’t for the 4 short horns protruding from their brow, slightly parting black hair that cascaded down their back and over their shoulders almost blending with the silks they wore. The other tells of their demonic nature were more obvious, however. Huge wings with blackened edges, claws at the tip, coloured in sunset hues of red and gold stretched out behind them, quivering with nervous anticipation. A long tail with an arrow-tip end pawed at the ground behind them, kicking up a little infernal ash. All they carried was the clothing they wore and the instructions they had been given. A simple enough task, and they were hardly inexperienced, but their first meetings were usually within a dream. Subtly watching their target, learning their desires and their fears, finding every intimate secret they hid in their subconscious before they would ever appear before them physically. They sighed. They didn’t even have a name to bring with them. Whatever it was had been taken, a simple exchange for a promised reward. “Let him name you,” the instructions had been clear, “let him do as he wishes. Get close, learn all you can, and deliver it back to me. You are no fool, incubus, and neither is he. But play the game well, and you will have the life of your dreams in the end. A home all of your own, whatever meals you desire delivered to your door, complete power over the domain I shall grant you.” It was tempting. It would be tempting to any incubus or succubus. They also couldn’t deny a small amount of pride at having been chosen. It sounded like the advances of succubi had already been rejected, so they relished the thought of a challenge. Besides, the son of Mephistopheles was hardly without any power of his own. They took a deep breath, steeling their nerves before they stepped through the portal. ------------

The sass starts early with this one...

The cambion put his feet on the floor and straightened up the papers, putting them in a neat stack on the table. He stood, walking towards the invited invader in his home, stalking around them to observe and assess them. “I’m not a piece of meat, Raphael.” They stood still nonetheless, allowing him to pace and take in all of their form. They flexed their wings and tail to put on more of a show. “Do you like what you see?~” “Passable.” The cambion grunted, the highest praise he had given any attempt yet. “And good you finally recognise your master’s name. So, why are you here?” “You know that much. Your dear father sent me. You are well aware that many of your kind take ours as advisors, partners in pleasure, or allies for whatever purposes you might have for our abilities.” The incubus grinned, the hint of slightly sharpened teeth glinting in the light as they looked down on the smaller human form of their supposed master. “You’re a spy.” Raphael said simply. “Obviously.” They replied, pleased that they were not being expected to work for a complete fool. “Do you wish to refuse me? Send me back?” “Honesty is a commodity that few of your kind trade in. You may stay. However, ground rules must be set.” He turned to walk away, beckoning for them to follow. “Come.” “Already?” The incubus laughed at their own humour. “It takes more than that, Raphael.”

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The First Rendering of The Presently Un-Named Incubus

Lore Time

The description, appearance, and other details I'm using here are all from established lore for an incubus in 5e. The main source is an article titled for the succubus, but they are very similar beings. Click here for Incubus/Succubus Lore In the article there's a lot of binary gender talk and heteronormativity which irritates me, so I'll also be taking the literal latin descriptions here: Incubus - To lie on top of Succubus - To lie below Concubus - To lie beside (The literal Top/bottom/vers, where a Top gives, bottom receives, and vers is either. As an aside, this is not the same as Dom/sub/switch, as you can have a sub Top and a Dom bottom) From this line: "Legend held that incubi and succubi were wholly separate sexes,[1] and the males were significantly rarer than the female of their kind.[5][6] In fact, with their shapechanging powers, incubi and succubi could both change their sex with ease, though most had a preference for one or the other." I headcanon that Haarlep feels more comfortable in a masculine or androgynous form, but has no issue taking a feminine form or body. However their attitude to gender in general remains "stop boring me with the details and tell me what you desire, all that matters is pleasure. Gender is a boring mortal construct. My nature is an incubus, my form is immaterial." So the article also shows that incubi and succubi also have a more human range of skin tones, much smaller horns than cambions, and the distinct pointed triangle at the end of their tails - something which isn't present in Haarlep's scenes when he's in Raphael's form. I'll definitely go into more detail on these things later too, particularly the changing of forms for the first time.

This is an incubus from the lore page images, so you can see a difference between this and a cambion's fully reddened look. They are much closer to a human in all but the wings, tail, and horns. So that's where I'm leaning with dear Haarls, before they take the form of Raphael.

What about Raphael? What is he like now?

Well...he's younger. Not long taken ownership of the mansion that will later be known as the House of Hope. --- Quote --- Fine leather boots paced across stone floors, the click of heels echoing around the halls of the largely empty mansion that floated through Avernus. It was a start. A place of his own, somewhere to work with his own contracts and plans. The owner of the boots was a cambion, son of Mephistopheles, and already a powerful fiend in his own right. Raphael, if you were to ask a mortal, looked like a human in his mid 20s. Chestnut hair was swept back neatly from his brow, the ends curling a little just below his shoulders. His brown eyes were deep set but sparkled with ideas, face clean shaven and expression darkening by the moment. --- End Quote --- So as you see, Raphael is still finding his feet, working out the beginnings of far grander plans. He has already rejected several "gifts" sent his way, so that's why our dear incubus is nervous. They have to work to get his attention and approval, but they're not sacrificing everything of who they are to do so. As soon as I wrote the two of them in a room together again, it was flowing. I love their dynamic as they exist in my head, the push and pull, the absolute sass and shifting of power between them. I'm going to lean heavily on how this builds up, how they find the balance that leads to where they are in my game-era works with them.

Is this all an excuse for more Raphael and Haarlep? A self indulgent dive through their history just to keep writing their stories?

...Yes. I'm not sorry. I earned this. I love them both too much. I hope you'll join me in my endless adoration for the very best of fiends~ I can't wait to share the first chapter and begin proper work on the series in 2024!

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 raphael #haarlep #bg3 #fanfic #prequel series #how Haarlep and Raphael met #Haarlep's “true” form #gods help me Haarlep is hot in any form they take #Haarlep remains gender neutral with a masculine leaning to me #but Haarlep can be whatever gender you wish them to be #as long as you give yourself over to them and to pleasure...this could be forever~#what do you think Haalep's name was before they traded it away?#someone suggested Jeff in Discord and I.... JESK!#the other idea we had is that their name is unpronounceable by mortal tongues which makes a lot of sense #I don't know if I'll ever reveal that name or even decide on one #they can find meaning in a new identity perhaps...#oh dear am I relating to them with my psuednym ways?

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