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Chapter Text

When Raphael first brought Tav into his home, he meant it as a display of his power. She was one of the only people who were immune to the Absolute. Tav had the potential to become a brilliant tool for him.

But when she’d looked at the feast, completely unimpressed, he began to sweat. Her nonchalant expression remained even when he revealed his cambion form. She had the nerve - the audacity! - to scorn his offer, quite rudely, at that.

“You’re mad if you think I’ll make a deal with a devil,” she had spat, saying ‘devil’ not with awe or fear as he was used to, but with detest and disgust. In a quite unusual turn of events, the mouse was standing up to the cat.

He accepted her refusal with grace. She would come to him eventually. They always came to him eventually.

She faced so many obstacles, so many people that wanted to kill her, but she didn’t run to him. No, she fought through a goblin camp, a githyanki creche, and the underdark with infuriating ease.

Perhaps it was the fact that she was out of his reach, or her outward loathing of him, but he found himself drawn to her. She wasn’t a mere asset anymore, no, she was something he wanted in his personal collection.

And she looked so scrumptious in her bloodstained robes, covered head to toe in viscera. Raphael wanted to lick it off of her skin.

Soon enough, he found he’d developed a newfound preference for Haarlep’s archduchess form.

As he drove into the incubus, he imagined Tav under him instead, taking all he could give with a feisty grin on her face. But he would wipe that grin off of her soon enough, replacing it with rolled back eyes and panting as she tightened under him, squeezing him, letting out the prettiest noises as she reached climax.

How would she feel, he wondered, as he thrust into her again and again? Would she squeeze his cock with her inner muscles, spasming rhythmically around him, milking him for all he had?

With a deep groan, he spilled inside Haarlep, who, after a couple moments, rolled off of him and returned to their usual form. “Enjoy yourself, master?” they purred, stroking Raphael’s chest. “Or was your mind elsewhere? Perhaps on that delicious little treat you’ve been watching through the mirror?”

“Delicious indeed,” he rumbled. “Such a shame I’ve yet to have a taste. But all in due time.”

Haarlep pouted. “I prefer to have your attention on me when I’m fucking you. Next time you feel like sampling your mouse, bring her here, and we can share.”

“As tempting as that may be, she’s been rather stubborn.”

“Has Raphael finally met his match?”

Raphael scoffed. “Of course not. My little mouse will be mine soon enough. And when she’s in my service, I’ll make sure you get to have her way with her, as well.”

When they met once more in the Last Light Inn, though, Tav still seemed reluctant to take him up on his offer. She insulted him yet again, using language so colourful that were it coming from anybody else, they would have very quickly seen why archdevils were so widely feared.

“You’re a bold piece of shit, and a predatory one, too, making deals with children. Leave Mol the fuck alone, you hear me? Or I’ll rip down the walls of your house and tear her contract to shreds with my own two hands.” Her venomous words made Raphael’s cock twitch in his pants.

“Relax, little mouse,” he soothed. “The tiefling’s soul is perfectly fine. She’s of so much more use to me alive, after all.”

“Her soul better stay perfectly fine,” she grumbled. “Astarion wants to talk to you.” Tav left the room, giving Raphael a wonderful view of her backside. How would she react, he wondered, if he were to take her over his knee and punish her for acting out?

The vampire cleared his throat. “If you’re finished ogling?”

“Can you blame me? My little mouse is quite the specimen, isn’t she? As for you, vampling. Let’s make a deal.”

-

As soon as Raphael got news of Tav’s arrival in Baldur’s Gate, he returned to his room at Sharess’ Caress, one of his old stomping grounds from when he was just beginning to build his empire. Desperate people were in no short supply in the brothel, and he picked out the most desperate of them all.

He took just enough clients to get his name out there, and assigned Korilla to Tav duty - namely, she would make sure Tav went to see him when she inevitably ended up in the brothel. He had it on good word that she had business with Kith’rak Voss, a Githyanki who, much like Tav, had a vested interest in the Orphic Hammer.

It took Tav an irritatingly long time to make her way through Rivington. Apparently she ended up solving a murder or some such. What a painfully dull use of her time. Eventually, though, she ended up at the brothel - and, shortly after, at his door.

Raphael was entertaining the Kith’rak Voss once more, taunting him with thorough descriptions of the legendary weapon the githyanki so desperately wanted to get his hands on. Tav truly had excellent timing, interrupting that particular conversation.

“You must hear me, devil,” pleaded the githyanki. “I will do whatever it takes - give you anything you ask.”

Raphael stood straight and puffed out his chest, noticing Tav and their companions entering the room. “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. There are very few things in this world that I desire. You have none of them, and you never will.”

The Kith’rak looked like he was about to burst into tears. How pathetic. “You must help me, Raphael. For the sake of my people!”

“Hush, Voss.” His eyes turned to Tav. “They may not know it yet, but these guests seek the same thing you do. And unlike you, they have the means to trade for it.”

The Kith’rak muttered something to Tav’s crude githyanki companion and then fled the room, looking not unlike a scorned toddler.

Raphael spread his arms out. “I’m glad you came. Not to my door, not yet, but to the final reckoning,” he said dramatically. “One more thing before we begin, though.”

With a flourish, he snapped his fingers. It wasn’t necessary for his magic to work, of course, but he felt it helped him impress upon them his domineering aspect.

Tav’s eyes widened as her mind cleared, looking up at him with wary fascination. He found it endearing, almost, how open she was. He could tell what she was feeling with a simple glance.

“I feel empty.” She glared at him. “What did you do?”

“I gave you back your privacy by shutting that illithid in your pocket out of your mind. It can’t hear us.” He flashed her his teeth. “I have a strict no-intruders policy, you know.”

“Didn’t we literally walk in on your meeting with Voss?”

His eyes travelled her body. “You’re the exception.”

Tav huffed. “At this point, I trust the illithid more than I trust you.”

He clutched his chest. “Oh, little mouse, I’m hurt! How your cruel words wound me. I’d think you’d be smarter than to harbour that foolish little sentiment - the illithid’s the reason you’re in this predicament. And I’m your only way out of it.”

“I sincerely doubt that. I’m more resourceful than you seem to think.”

“Indulge me,” Raphael said lowly, “and at least hear me out. I’ll admit, you’ve impressed me - I initially thought you’d perish in the Underdark, and when you survived that I assumed the undying king would do you in. But you survived all of that. Perhaps once I thought you helpless, but it turns out my little mouse has claws, as well.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’m very capable. Stop dancing around your point.”

“Very well, then.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve overcome all of these obstacles, and yet you’re still on the road to ruin - a road that leads directly to a confrontation with the elder brain. At best, it will kill you and everyone else in this city. At worst, it will assimilate you, and you won’t have enough free will left to even wish you were dead.”

“All that lead up just to tell us we’re fucked?” Tav scoffed. “We already knew all that shit. It’s kind of what we’re working to avoid.”

“Lucky for you, then, that you have the key to destroying it in the palm of your hand.”

Tav leaned in, and Raphael suppressed a grin, knowing that he’d hooked her. “You’re talking about Orpheus, aren’t you? How’d you know about him?”

“Oh, my dear, you should know by now that I am all-knowing. Very perceptive of you, recognizing a usable weapon when presented with one. That little githyanki prince is the key to your salvation. And I can give you the means to break him free.”

“Go on.”

She was on his line. Now all he had to do was reel her in. “The Orphic Hammer,” he announced dramatically. “An artefact capable of shattering the chains that hold Prince Orpheus is held securely in my House of Hope even now.”

“Perfect - give it to me.”

He laughed. “Such an eager little pup! Surely you realise, there is an exchange to be made. You scratch my back, so to speak, I scratch your parasite.” He allowed his eyes to wander across her body once more, making it very clear to her that her parasite wasn’t the only thing he wanted his hands on.

Instead of shrinking away from his lecherous gaze, though, Tav continued to stand tall. “I’m not bargaining with you, Raphael. I’m not stupid.”

“Little mouse, I never said you were! And I’m not asking you to bargain, I’m asking you to save your soul. I want the Crown that dominates the elder brain.” He looked at Tav’s githyanki companion. “And you, Lae’zel of K’liir, want to free the forgotten prince, do you not? As the Kith’rak said earlier, the sake of your people depends on it!”

He could practically see the githyanki warrior begin to salivate. “I want nothing more.” Terribly short-sighted of her, thought Raphael. Why let your enemy know your desperation?

“Then it is settled, is it not?” he said smoothly. “A Crown for a Hammer. Truly a bargain of a lifetime, wouldn’t you say, Lae’zel of K’liir?”

Tav’s irritating wizard companion spoke up. “Handing that crown to this devil would be like feeding gunpowder to a lava worm. Agree to nothing.”

His voice grated on his eardrums. How Tav could stand him, he had no idea. Raphael glared at the wizard, and an invisible force pushed him out of the office, slamming the door in his face.

“What the fuck did you just do to Gale?” demanded Tav.

“Relax,” drawled Raphael, “I simply sent him out of the meeting. He’s perfectly unharmed, spare his ego, of course. But I have a feeling that whelp has ego to spare.”

Tav frowned. “He was right. I’d be insane to give such a powerful artefact to a devil.”

“Better to have it in my hands - and far away from your precious world, might I add - than in the hands of the gods and monsters that fight over this city’s soul, wouldn’t you say?”

“You’re a monster yourself.”

Raphael raised a clawed finger. “True that may be, but I couldn’t care less about messing up your precious Baldur’s Gate. Were I to destroy it, countless potential clients would be lost. It’s in my best interest to keep it around.”

She crossed her arms. “My answer is no.”

“Then you will die, along with every other soul in this city.”

Tav walked up to him and jabbed her finger into his chest. “I’m going to prove you wrong, devil.”

He grinned down at her, amused by her brazen display. “I’ll enjoy watching you try. When you see reason, I’ll be here, waiting, right up to the moment the world ends.”

“Enjoy the brothel, then, because you’ll be spending a lot of time sitting on your ass here!” Tav flipped her hair and strode loftily out of his office.

How entertaining, he thought, sitting back down at his desk. He had expected this outcome, of course, being incredibly familiar with his little mouse’s feisty attitude. But her little saviour complex wouldn’t allow her to forsake her githyanki friend. She would come crawling back to him sooner or later, and he was willing to wait however long it took for that to happen.

His office had such a lovely view of the city, after all. He would enjoy watching her scramble around the Gate to try and save her tadpoled soul.

Later that night, after the brothel closed, he paid another visit to the archduchess, choosing this time to take a more active role in bed.

He bent Haarlep over the side of the bed, ramming his cock into them repeatedly, rubbing harsh circles into their clit. “That’s it,” he growled, claws digging into the incubus’ hips, “take it. You’ve been bad, haven’t you?”

“Yes, master!” cried Haarlep. “Please, harder, I need it!”

Raphael slowed. “No, don’t give in, fight back. Tell me -” he grunted - “tell me how you haven’t done anything wrong. Cuss me out a bit.”

“I’m innocent, I swear, I’ve been so good! Ah, fuck you,” they said, without any real malice.

Tav would be hissing and spitting under him, fighting him for dominance every second. Maybe he’d indulge her, allowing her to flip him onto his back and make him fall apart. He slammed into Haarlep a few more times, before collapsing over them, spent.

“Doesn’t hit the same when you want somebody else,” observed Haarlep.

“Don’t worry. The lanceboard is set; all I need to do now is wait.”

“Promise to let me play with her?”

“Of course.” Raphael pulled his softening cock out of them and tucked himself back in his pants. “They’ll need to learn to take two of me at once.”

Chapter Text

He watched with droll amusement as she all but stormed into Gortash’s inauguration and swore to have his head. He was surprised her boldness hadn’t led to her death already. It was to his benefit, he supposed. Acquiring a soul was so much easier when he didn’t have to hunt through the planes to find it.

She was positively delectable, with her rebellious attitude and sharp tongue. Her strong moral compass provided him with endless entertainment. Watching her scurry around to run errands for those far beneath her was beginning to wear on him, though.

When she was his, he pledged, she would be waited on hand and foot. Not being allowed to help her servants would be a punishment in and of itself.

Soon enough, she returned to Sharess’ Caress. Alone this time, surprisingly enough, having left her entourage in the taproom downstairs. Whatever she wanted to speak with him about, she wanted to do so alone.

It made sense, Raphael mused, that she would want privacy when finally giving in to him.

“My favourite future client!” he announced with a smile. “Finally ready to accept my kind offer, are we?”

“In your motherfucking dreams,” she snarled. “I’m here to warn you.”

He leaned back in his seat. “Oh? How endearingly shortsighted of you. Let me guess, you’ve uncovered some hidden plot to usurp me and will tell me all about it if I give you the hammer?”

“Not quite, devil, but close. If you don’t give me the Orphic Hammer, I’ll step over your corpse and take it myself.”

“My goodness, you’re serious, aren’t you? You really need that hammer. And you’d be willing to kill me to get at it?” He laughed boisterously. “Aren’t you just adorable! You remind me of a little puppy that thinks it's so much bigger than it really is.”

Tav quirked a brow. “So much bigger, hm? Considering I took down all three chosen of the Dead Three, I’d say I’m more than able to beat a dickwad devil.”

He scoffed. “Excuse you, I’m incomparably superior to those leashed little pests. But fine. It’d be a shame to kill off my favourite little mouse. So how about we work something else out.”

“Something else? I thought the Crown was your fucking life’s calling or whatever.”

“I’ve waited a thousand years for it, I can wait a thousand more.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “There is something else I want. Something that you may be more inclined to give me. Given your self-sacrificial tendencies.”

“My self-sacrificial tendencies?”

“Helping out anybody who needs it, practically throwing your life away for a bunch of complete strangers? What else is that called, pray tell?”

“Fine. Point taken. What’s this ‘something else’ you want?”

“You.”

Tav blinked. “Me?”

He sighed, exasperated. “You’re so much more fun when you don’t mindlessly repeat my words. Let me make this a little more clear.” With a flourish, he summoned the contract he’d previously drafted and rewrote the clauses. “In exchange for the Orphic Hammer, you will pledge your undying soul to me for the rest of eternity.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want our souls.”

“Not the souls of your pathetic little friends,” he sneered, “just yours. And not to turn into a servant, either. To repay my kindness, you will live in my House of Hope and provide me with entertainment.”

She wrinkled her nose. “So what, I’d be your royal jester?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he waved off. “Why on earth would I waste my favourite toy on such a mindless job? No, you would be my companion. You would have eternity to do whatever you’d like within the walls of my home. All you’d be required to do is have dinner with me when requested. Your lovely personality is oh so entertaining to me, after all.”

“You want to keep me in your house like a fucking lapdog.” She laughed incredulously. “You’re literally describing a master-pet relationship right now.”

He shrugged. “If that’s how you’d like to think of it. I prefer to consider us more equal than that. If you’d like to read the fine print -” he magicked a copy of the contract into Tav’s hands.

“I would not be permitted to harm you physically, nor you me. Verbal and emotional abuse is disallowed. The only order of mine you would need to follow is to eat meals at my dining table, and that is restricted to once a day. Two rooms would be given to you, one for your private quarters and one for recreation, both of which you can redesign as you please. Your soul would be bound to me intimately, and as such, you will not age. Only if I die will you perish, and I assure you, I do not intend to ever let that happen.”

“So a well-treated pet,” she deadpanned.

“Again, if that’s how you’d like to think of it.” He looked at her intensely. “This offer is significantly in your favour. I’ve seen how you put yourself at risk for anybody that asks something of you. The nation of Faerun is in your hands right now, Tav, and its fate is entirely up to you.”

“I could still kill you,” she said, but her words were half-hearted.

“But you won’t. Attacking me would be entirely unprovoked, and seeing as our deal is more than fair, you wouldn’t trade my life for an object. And besides; getting into my House of Hope won’t be very easy any more, now that I’ve thoroughly threatened the owner of the Devil’s Fee.” He rose from his seat and walked up to her, giving her a meaningful look. “This is your only option, Tav,” he said lowly, “and I would really suggest you take it.”

Her breath hitched as she met his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, the tension in the room palpable. She was going to give in, he knew she was.

“Fine,” she said, almost too quiet for him to hear. “I’ll sign it.”

He summoned a pen from his desk and levitated it into her hands, watching greedily as she jotted her signature on the dotted line. Raphael resisted the urge to lick his lips. She was his now. All his.

“Excellent,” he said with a grin, adding the signed contract to his library with a snap. “Now - go defeat your elder brain and save your little city. Two days after the brain is killed, I’ll arrive to collect you.” He leaned forward and ran a finger across her jaw. “I look forward to having you in my home,” he rumbled, before leaving in a cloud of smoke.

“Haarlep,” he greeted his incubus. “I’ve finally captured our little mouse. Help me design her quarters, won’t you? What do you think she’d prefer, lilac or lavender?”

“Her quarters?” Haarlep frowned. “She isn’t joining us in the boudoir?”

“Not quite yet. It would be such a shame if she lost her spark, and forcing too much upon her at once would be akin to dumping water on a flame. She’ll have her freedom for now.”

Haarlep grinned wickedly. “I see. Still playing the long game. I simply can’t wait for the result.”

-

Tav presented Lae’zel with the Orphic Hammer. Though her companions asked about its origins, she waved them off. She made a deal with Raphael, yes, she told them, but the Crown was not traded. After determining the safety of the Crown, Gale dropped the subject.

Her other friends weren’t quite so quick to accept her answer, but a few well-worded platitudes later, and it was put out of their mind. The only person that seemed discontent with her explanation was Astarion.

She often thought that the vampire spawn was one of her only true friends in the camp. Everybody else was only with her because the artefact in her possession was stopping them from transforming. Spare Halsin and Jaheira, of course. But they had motives of their own.

After things cleared up, everyone would probably go on with their lives and leave Tav in the past where she belonged.

But since Astarion had given up on becoming the Vampire Ascendant, his future was up in the air. Much like Tav, he had nowhere to go, no life to return to.

Had Tav not sold her soul to a devil, the two of them would have likely stayed together after the elder brain was destroyed.

They would have found some way for Astarion to live in the sun, and he would have helped Tav find purpose for her life. It would have been nice to live with her best friend.

But she supposed the decision to sell her soul was entirely on her.

Loathe as she was to admit it, Raphael was right. The consequences of killing an archdevil could put her companions in danger for the rest of time. She couldn’t throw away their futures like that. Her life for their lives. The choice was clear.

Maybe living with Raphael wouldn’t be so bad. She had pored over her copy of the contract, making sure to read every single detail, and she couldn’t see any loopholes.

Were she to break it, however.. Any harm she inflicted upon Raphael would also be inflicted upon herself. Without Raphael’s permission, an invisible force would stop her from leaving the House of Hope. Escape was impossible, and so was revenge.

Perhaps during the eternity she now had to look forward to, she would find a hobby. Maybe she’d finally learn to play the piano. Or become a lion tamer or something. She wondered if Raphael had any animals.

She only hoped that her new ‘master’ would allow her visitors every now and then.

The fight against the elder brain was long and harrowing, but her friends eventually emerged victorious, as she knew they would. On the dock, Astarion immediately fled to the shade. Tav said her goodbyes to the rest of her companions, all of whom had places to be and things to do, before searching for her friend.

She found him leaning against a crate, a flask in his hand and emptiness on his face. Tav sat down beside him. He offered her his flask, and she took a swig, swallowing down the liquor.

“What did you give Raphael in exchange for the hammer?” asked Astarion quietly.

“My soul. In two days' time, he’ll come to ‘collect’, and drag me down to his House of Hope to live as his companion.” She tried to word it favourably - as favourable as she could, that is, given the circumstances.

“I had a feeling it was something like that.” Astarion swung his arm around her shoulders. “Life as a slave fucking sucks, you know. I would rather die than live another century under Cazador’s influence.”

“I wouldn’t be his slave, I read the contract,” she sighed. “He’s not allowed to hurt me or abuse me, including manipulation and whatnot. I’m allowed to go anywhere I like in the house, and all I need to do for him is have dinners sometimes.”

“Sounds just dandy,” Astarion drawled, “other than the fact that you’d be living under the thumb of an arch-devil for the rest of eternity, of course. Devils never play fair.”

She leaned into his side. “How about you? What will you do?”

“Honestly?” He shook his head. “I have no fucking idea. I don’t have a home, anybody to go back to.. My siblings have all parted ways. We can’t bear to be around each other, it reminds us of how things used to be.” He wrinkled his nose. “I suppose I’ll live out my days skulking around Baldur’s Gate, feeding off criminals and waiting for some monster hunter to strike me down.”

“Can’t you go back to your job as a magistrate or whatever?”

Astarion snorted. “Darling, it’s been nearly two centuries since I’ve held any position of power. I can’t just waltz into Wyrm’s Rock, give them my resume, and get hired.”

“Why not? You can take the graveyard shifts.” She grinned.

“I can’t stress just how unfunny that pun was,” deadpanned Astarion. “You do have a point. Having a position in the public office would give me easy access to corrupt business people deserving of being sucked dry.”

“Maybe Raphael will let you visit me.”

“He fucking better,” said Astarion. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll break in. Nobody’s keeping me from my closest friend.”

“Agreed. I'll blackmail him or something.” She smiled grimly. “I’m sure that I’ll uncover some kind of dirt on him, given all the free time I’ll have soon.”

“Why does that devil want you, anyways? No offence, of course, you’re positively wonderful, but it doesn’t sound like he’ll be getting very much from that contract.”

Tav shrugged. “He works in mysterious ways. I think he wants to collect me because I disobeyed him or whatever. I’m sure after time he’ll get bored of me and leave me to my own devices.”

They spent the next two days in the Elfsong Tavern, drinking beer and singing songs and altogether living their best lives. Everybody was falling over themselves to sing their praises, and both Tav and Astarion were more than happy to bask in their adoration.

Soon enough, though, Raphael appeared, contract in hand.

“Time for you to go, then, I suppose,” said Astarion glumly. He glared at Raphael. “If I hear word that you’re not treating her well, I’ll make sure you get your just desserts. I’m certain our adventuring party would be more than happy to reunite to slit your throat.”

“Hello to you too, vampling,” greeted Raphael. “Not to worry, I intend to take very good care of my little mouse. Far better care than you could have, anyways. Hard to hide one’s true nature when you can’t even go outside in the sun, hm?”

“Leave him alone,” snapped Tav, “he’s just protecting me.”

“Perhaps I would be more keen to listen to him if his worries weren’t unfounded. You will be more than safe with me, I assure you. Your quarters are all set up. Say your goodbyes and pack up whatever belongings you wish to bring with you.”

Tav gathered her things and flung her arms around Astarion; an embrace which he returned in full. They held each other for a minute, though when they parted, it felt far too short.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” Astarion demanded. Though his voice was harsh, Tav could tell he was worried.

She squeezed his hand. “I promise.” She turned to Raphael. “I’m ready.” With a flourish, he teleported both of them into his boudoir.

Chapter Text

Tav scrutinised her surroundings. It looked about how she’d expected his room would look. Luxurious and red. Far too gaudy for her tastes, but he had said she would have full control over the furnishings in her room. She hoped that also extended to the colour scheme.

Raphael grinned slyly at her. “With a flick of its whiskers, the cat struck fast. Its plan complete, the die was cast. Down came the claw with a calculated grace, and the mouse realised, too late, its misplaced embrace. After far too long, the mouse fell for the trap. The cat said, ‘welcome home.’ There was no turning back.”

Tav clapped sarcastically. “Wow. Look at you go. How long did it take for you to come up with that one?”

“Less than a tenday, I’ll have you know!” announced Raphael, taking her slander in stride. “Let me show you to your room, little mouse.”

He led her through the halls. Empty-eyed souls stared at her curiously until Raphael ordered them back to work. One of them - a young-looking elf - crawled away on all fours, barking wildly.

“Seems you already have plenty of pets,” Tav observed blithely. “I can’t help but wonder why you need another.”

“My dear, you’re sorely mistaken if you think any of these creatures are my pets. They are servants, tortured souls forced to do my bidding. They receive none of my care, none of my attention. That’s where they differ from you.”

Tav shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to unpack that statement. “Right.” She followed him in silence to her quarters. They reached a lone door at the end of the hallway. She recognised the markings on it as infernal, and made a mental note to translate them later.

When she entered the room, she was expecting something as garish as the rest of the house. Looking around, though, she was pleasantly surprised. It was far less flashy than the boudoir had been.

Instead of red, the colour of focus was robin's-egg blue. She wondered how Raphael knew it was her favourite.

A king-sized bed stood in the middle of the room, its sheets, pillows, and blankets all varying shades of pale purple. Its bed frame, along with the rest of the furniture, was a warm brown. Opposite the bed sat a wardrobe and a desk. Atop the desk laid an open box, filled to the brim with notebooks and art supplies.

The room was impressively large. After spending almost a year sleeping in a tent, and then sharing the Elfsong with 9 people, an owlbear cub, a dog, and a seemingly sentient walking brain, it was almost jarring to have so much space to herself.

Raphael tilted his chin up. “I take it the room is up to your standards, then?”

She forced an impassive expression. “It’s alright, I suppose,” she said, not wanting to give Raphael the satisfaction of knowing she liked her new quarters.

“High standards, I see. I’ll have to work hard to meet them.”

She gestured at the door next to the bed. “I’m guessing that leads to my ‘recreational’ room?”

“Indeed it does. Shall we take a look?” He snapped and the door swung open to reveal a slightly smaller room with varying items.

The corner furthest from them was stocked with an assortment of musical instruments, including a vintage-looking piano. On top of the piano, binders filled with sheet music were arranged by level, numbered one to ten.

Bookshelves stocked fully with tomes lined the wall. Their topics were seemingly random, ranging from the basics of wizardry and infernal magic to rhyming schemes and a collection of Volo’s plays.

“I wasn’t quite sure what hobbies you enjoyed, so I gave you some of my old things. Once you’ve settled in, feel free to compile a list of other items you’d like in here. You’re mine now, after all, and I take good care of my belongings.”

Tav opened her mouth to protest being called ‘his,’ but thought better of it. It would be wise, she thought, not to piss off the all-powerful archdevil in possession of her soul. So she asked instead, “you play all these instruments?”

“But of course,” replied Raphael, “I’ve had centuries to perfect my skills. The theatre is one of my greatest passions, and performances are incomplete without musical accompaniments.”

What a surprisingly charming hobby. Far too charming, she felt, for somebody like Raphael to indulge in. “Alright, you’ve shown me around. I don’t suppose that contract of yours lets me tell you to fuck off?”

Raphael raised his hands in surrender. “Feisty today, I see. I understand, it’ll take some time to adjust to your new life. I won’t bother you until tomorrow. As for my other housemate.. Well, for them I make no promises.”

“Other housemate?”

“Oh yes. Haarlep.” He looked almost amused. “I forgot you hadn’t met. We’ve discussed you thoroughly, and they are entirely on board with our new housing arrangement. They even helped me set up your things. I’m sure they’ll take it upon themselves to initiate a proper introduction. Don’t you worry, little mouse, I’ve told them not to bite. Unless you ask them to, that is.”

With a snap, Raphael was gone from the room, leaving Tav with a plethora of unanswered questions. That was probably the point, though, she mused. Whatever. Her mysterious new roommate was the least of her problems.

She couldn’t help but wonder why they lived there. Another victim of Raphael’s, perhaps. She couldn’t fathom why anybody would live with the devil of their own free will.

She returned to the bedroom and unloaded her pack. She didn’t have much - a couple outfits that she wore intermittently, and various trinkets from her adventures. Halsin had whittled her a wooden duck that she was rather fond of.

When she opened the wardrobe to hang up her clothes, she was surprised to find it was already fully stocked.

There were evening gowns, casual wear, and nightwear, along with a disturbing variety of delicates that Tav hoped dearly Haarlep had picked out and not Raphael himself. The colours were relatively classy, spare the occasional vibrant red. She flushed, noticing a leather harness amidst the delicates.

Definitely Haarlep’s doing. Raphael wouldn’t give her something so erotic, would he? She shoved the rest of her clothes in the bottom of the dresser and closed it. Tav chucked off her shoes and threw herself onto the bed. Her leathers weren’t exactly comfortable to sleep in, but she didn’t have the energy to change.

She already missed Astarion. The others, too. Scratch and the owlbear cub had gone with Halsin, so she could rest knowing they were well cared for. Us was still with Astarion, but it seemed to be able to fend for itself. Us and Astarion would keep each other company in her absence, she hoped.

At least the bed was comfortable.

-

Tav spent the next few days moping in her room, lamenting her unfortunate fate. Regrets would get her nowhere, she knew that. But she had an eternity to be productive. A week or so spent feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t affect much.

The collection of books proved to be rather interesting. She had read a few tomes on basic wizardry, wanting to be able to do that levitating thing that Raphael used to pick up pens and open doors and shit.

Connecting with the weave seemed so simple in the books, but despite her best efforts, she just couldn’t grasp it.

Eventually her fruitless efforts began to bore her, and she decided to leave her quarters, wandering the halls in search of the dining room. She hadn’t felt hungry or thirsty since setting foot in the House of Hope, but the memory of the feast that she saw when first meeting Raphael made her mouth water.

While walking through the house, she was struck by the sight of Raphael wearing a skimpy harness, not unlike the one she saw in her wardrobe.

She blinked. “Raphael?”

A boisterous laugh answered her. “Not quite. You’re the sweet little thing our master brought back from Baldur’s Gate, aren’t you?”

The leather-clad cambion approached her, looking her up and down. “I must say, he didn’t exaggerate - you certainly do look delicious. Ah, but where are my manners?” He bowed, giving her a lascivious grin. “Haarlep. Raphael’s incubus. And you must be Tav.”

“Why do you look like Raphael?” Tav asked, motioning to them. “And why are you wearing that?”

Haarlep chuckled salaciously. “Are you unfamiliar with incubi, dearest? Let me educate you. We are, to put it simply, sex demons. Raphael, in all his narcissistic glory, rather enjoys fucking himself - or being fucked by himself, I should say.”

“Oh.” Tav’s cheeks tinted red, unprepared to learn so much about Raphael’s sex life. “That, uh. Wait, he gets fucked by himself? Raphael’s a bottom?”

Haarlep leaned closer, a naughty grin on their face. “Not just a bottom, sweet thing,” they whispered, “a pillow princess.”

Tav threw her head back and, for the first time since entering the damn House of Hope, laughed. “Fuck, that’s golden!” they cackled. “So he’s pretty shit in bed, then, yeah?”

Haarlep shrugged. “Not necessarily. He’s got some excellent tricks with his tongue that more than often have me seeing stars. And recently he’s begun enjoying my female form again. But seeing as he feels everything I feel, any pleasure he gives to me is solely for his own gain.”

“He feels everything you feel?”

“When I’m taking his form, at least. Which is basically always, unless he’s feeling particularly spicy and wants to be ridden.” Haarlep raised a brow. “Why, thinking of trying it out for yourself?”

“Maybe later,” said Tav, not writing it off entirely. “Right now, though, I’m more hungry than horny. Where’s that buffet I saw?”

Haarlep grinned. “Come, follow me. The butter tarts he has are to die for!”

The pair munched happily on the banquet. Tav was content to gorge herself as much as she pleased, being reassured by Haarlep that she wouldn’t gain any weight unless she wished to.

“Where is Raphael, anyways?” she questioned in between bites.

Haarlep waved dismissively. “Who knows! Your little spat with the Absolute has had Baldur’s Gate practically up in flames. Desperate souls across the city are coming to terms with their mortality. My guess? Raphael’s taking advantage of them.”

Tav’s stomach dropped. “So what, he’s manipulating them into signing contracts? Forcing them to give up their souls in exchange for peace of mind?”

“You mortals hold onto your souls far too tightly to just trade them away. Usually he just asks for an attribute, or some years of post-mortem service. And there’s no manipulation involved! Usually, at least. Sure, he’ll seek out desperation, but his deals are entirely fair.”

“Huh.” Tav picked at her food. “Why are you in his service, by the way, Haarlep?”

Haarlep made a face. “It’s very complicated. I was sold to him, essentially, and he chose to keep me. He’s a better master than others, and he treats me well. Some devils would use an incubus to keep their armies sated, while others would treat me like a tool. My agreement with Raphael’s is similar to yours. I can do what I please within the House of Hope. And, when he wants..” Haarlep grinned. “I fuck him.”

Tav barked out a laugh. “That last bit is definitely not in my contract.”

“But would you like to?” Haarlep’s eyes were calculating. “Fuck him, I mean? Despite being rather selfish, he truly isn’t bad in bed. And he’s also rather well endowed, even for a devil.”

Her face flushed. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s hot, but he also kind of owns my soul, you know? I feel like it’d be weird to live with somebody I slept with for the rest of eternity.”

Haarlep arched an eyebrow.

“It’s different for you! You and Raphael are in a relationship or something. He literally told me I remind him of a dog.”

Haarlep threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, that’s hilarious! That man has absolutely no charm. I fear I’ve spoiled him so much, being so easy to please and all, that he’s lost any semblance of charisma.”

“The point still stands. He doesn’t see me as someone he wants to be in a relationship with, and given the power imbalance, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with casual sex.”

“How about me, then? As you’ve likely noticed, I have all the parts.” Haarlep grinned mischievously. “You could take me for a spin, try out Raphael’s body without needing to worry your pretty little head about any possible consequences.”

Tav leaned forward, intrigued. “And it wouldn’t be weird or anything?”

“Nothing will change between us unless you want it to, my sweet.”

She chewed on her cheek, letting her eyes rake up and down Haarlep’s body. She couldn’t deny she was tempted; she had always been into nerds. Raphael’s rhymes and overly-flowery language had captivated her. His raffish looks only furthered her attraction to him.

Were he not so manipulative, she would have propositioned him a while ago. Being his pet-companion, however, complicated things. Haarlep’s offer of a free trial seemed like the perfect opportunity to get her schoolgirl crush on Raphael out of her system.

“Sure,” she agreed, wetting her lips.

Chapter Text

Raphael was meeting with a client when his cock jumped in his pants. This wasn’t a usual erection. Haarlep was using his body.

His annoyance flared. This meeting was important. If he played his cards right, he stood to gain a very powerful artefact that would help him reassemble the Crown of Karsus. He didn’t have time to deal with Haarlep’s games.

“Can you translate clause 6b for me?” asked the museum owner. “It’s a little smudged.”

Suppressing a sigh, Raphael picked up his copy of the contract. “But of course. I want you to be entirely sure of what you’re agreeing to. Let’s see. ‘Clause 6b - Should the client fail to deliver the agreed-upon items, the contractor will acquire the client’s soul after the death of the client. With the soul, the contractor -”

A tingle shot up Raphael’s back as he felt a curious hand grip his cock. It wasn’t Haarlep’s clawed, coarse hand. No, the hand was soft, smooth. It explored him almost experimentally, with soft touches to the tip and slow, uneven strokes.

He gripped the desk and sucked in a breath. “Apologies,” he said smoothly, “let me continue. ‘With the soul, the contractor will be permitted to do anything they want, including but not limited to the creation of a soul coin, the transference of the soul into an automaton, or the conversion of the soul into a low-ranked devil.’”

The client began to sweat. “So you’d be able to do anything to me, huh?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that clause too much, my friend. It only comes into play if you fail to uphold your end of the deal. Given your reliable nature, I’m sure we can both agree that’s unlikely to happen.”

“Right..” he said warily. “But it says that if I fail to deliver the items. What if, say, I die before I can get them to you, but I have them in my possession, uh, or on my body. What happens then?”

The hand was stroking him more confidently now, working him with skill. “In that case, we would refer to clause 11c. ‘If the client suffers an untimely demise, the contractor will determine whether or not there was intent to deliver the items. If the contractor determines that the client intended to fulfil the contract, upon retrieval of the items by the contractor, the client’s soul will be freed. If the contractor determines that the client did not -”

A warm mouth engulfed his tip. Raphael’s cock strained against his underclothes, uncomfortably hard. The sensations were just enough that he knew what was happening, but not enough to provide him with any sort of relief. It was maddening.

“Excuse me?” said the museum curator’s mousy voice.

“I’m terribly sorry. One of my subordinates seems to be getting into a bit of trouble. But they can wait. I would hate to leave such an important client waiting. Let’s continue, shall we? ‘If the contractor determines that the client did not intend to fulfil the contract, the contractor will remain in possession of the client’s soul, regardless of whether the contractor retrieves the items in the future.’”

“Hm.” The client settled back into silence as he continued to read over the contract.

Raphael understood his need to ensure the contract’s legitimacy - he would do the same in his position. But there was a hot mouth on his cock, and he desperately needed to find out whose it was and punish them, because they were making him rut against his underclothes desperately, dangerously close to making an unseemly noise and stopping him from obtaining a very useful artefact.

Haarlep couldn’t possibly have a client over, they would need Raphael’s permission to enter the House of Hope. Having sex with any of the empty souls was beneath them.

That left Korilla and Tav. And Korilla wouldn’t dare indulge in Raphael’s incubus without his permission.

Gods, it was Tav. The hesitant hand, the warm mouth. It was her. He was torn between anger and pleasure. How dare Haarlep touch her before him. But hells, it felt so good, he found it difficult to stay angry.

She was inexperienced, he could tell. Her movements were sloppy, and she wasn’t taking him in nearly as deeply as he knew she could. Her teeth occasionally grazed him - not painfully, but enough that it was noticeable. Still, though, it was her mouth, and it was perfect.

“Excuse me?” said the curator again.

Raphael suppressed a growl. “Yes? Another question?”

“Yes, uh - in clause 3a, the contract states that ‘by delivering the items to the contractor, the client guarantees that they function properly and are free from any irregularities that would render them unfit to be sold.’ What does ‘unfit to be sold’ mean, exactly?”

“Your gift shop is registered, correct? That means you need to follow certain rules regarding the quality of your products. If one of your items were chipped, it would still be able to be sold. If parts of it were missing, however, and it no longer resembled what it should look like, it wouldn’t be a valid product. Take that logic and apply it to the contract.”

“Understood. And what if, say, the artefact doesn’t function properly but I didn’t know? Uh, like, if you get it but it turns out it’s not as strong a magnet as you thought it was.”

The mouth left his cock. Perhaps Haarlep had finished. Raphael relaxed. “Assuming the artefact was provided to me in good faith, meaning you were unaware of its insufficient quality, then the contract would be deemed null. Both parties would reacquire their goods, and we would part ways amicably.”

“So it’s the intention that matters. Understood.”

“Precisely. As long as you aren’t dishonest in your completion of the contract, you’ll be just fine -” Raphael let out a long, strangled sound as his cock was plunged into a soft, warm heat. Tav’s soft, warm heat. And Gods, that thought didn’t make it any easier to control himself.

The client’s brow furrowed. “Mr Raphael, are you quite alright?”

“I’m afraid the situation with my subordinate has gotten out of hand. I don’t suppose you would be willing to provide me with a meeting room while you finish reading through the contract?” Raphael said through gritted teeth. “I need to resolve this.”

“As long as you don’t disappear on me!” the curator joked, but Raphael could read between the lines. He needed to stay in the building, otherwise the deal was off.

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” promised Raphael, trying to sound earnest. It was difficult, though, when his cock was fully seated inside his little mouse.

“You can use the first door on your right. I’ll just, uh, write down any questions I have, I suppose, and you can answer them when you get back.”

Raphael rushed out of the room, not caring about manners any more. He could explain his rudeness away later. Speedwalking quickly down the hallway, Raphael flung the door open and quickly closed it behind him.

As soon as he was alone, he let the facade drop. He slid to the floor and leaned against the door. Tav had thankfully not been moving, likely adjusting to Haarlep’s cock. Which also happened to be an exact replica of Raphael’s cock.

He unbuckled his belt and slid down his pants, freeing his erection. It throbbed angrily as the cool air hit it, the tip nearly purple from neglect.

Two slow strokes from base to tip provided some relief, but not nearly enough. Tav’s walls were spasming around him.

And then she started moving. She was above him, he could tell, the ghosts of her hands pressing down on his shoulders. He bucked wildly into the air, shoving his belt in his mouth to muffle his moans.

He was Raphael, an archdevil, owner of thousands of souls, and here he was, rutting into the air like an animal because of his infuriating little mouse.

He stroked himself in time to the rhythm she had set. Her pussy was divine, pulling him in, squeezing him, almost like it didn’t want to let him go. This was where he belonged - inside her, squirming with pleasure, fully at her mercy.

Tav sped up, riding him with a newfound ferocity. He moaned loudly, grateful he had the foresight to bite down on his belt. She felt so good atop him like that, taking her pleasure, entirely in control.

Closing his eyes, he pictured her - head thrown back, sweat beading on her skin. Her perfect breasts bouncing with her rhythm. He would take them in his hands and rub circles around her nipples, taking one into his mouth and sucking it into a peak.

Gods, what he would give to hear the sounds she was making. Was she being loud or quiet? Screaming his name or sobbing it into his neck?

Her pace quickened again. He bucked into his hand, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He was almost there, so close, just a little more. A moan so loud he swore the curator could hear him through the walls tore itself from his throat.

Pleasure roared over him in waves as he rode out his climax. But Tav wasn’t done with him yet, and she wasn’t slowing down. It was almost painful, sitting there in his cumstained clothes, his overstimulated cock still throbbing.

Ragged gasps left his mouth as he sank to the floor. It felt so good still. He usually needed a moment between rounds, but she wasn’t giving him any time to breathe. She sped up, faster, faster, and Raphael writhed under her phantom touch.

Then she froze, and her walls clenched down hard against his cock. He bucked into his hand and a small spurt of come dribbled out. She twitched around him, riding out the aftershocks of her own orgasm.

After what felt like forever, she rolled off of him, finally letting Raphael’s cock soften. He muttered a quiet spell to clean himself off and redressed.

He winced, noticing the bite marks indented into his belt. He would need to get one of his servants to mend it. Walking back to his meeting, he hoped desperately that the curator hadn’t heard his cries.