#Prequel fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tavyliasin · 12 days

Text

The Scent of Cinnamon Masterlist

Links to the Raphael and Haarlep Prequel fanfic series The Scent Of Cinnamon.

About the Fic

A prequel to the events of Baldur's Gate 3, exploring the relationship between Raphael and Haarlep from the moment they first meet and following through several key events in their long and storied history together as both seek their own goals and find how they connect between them.

There will be a lot of smut in the works, as well as a fair amount of angst and character exploration. I aim to keep clear tagging of each individual chapter as the content will vary and I would rather allow people a choice to skip parts of the story if there are tags they dislike, or to easily bookmark and return to tags that they adore~

There is no set schedule due to life factors and multiple ongoing series that I switch between, but comments and interactions do help to inspire work on it.

Notes: Haarlep will always be referred to with they/them pronouns in this piece and will utilise shapeshifting. The story is built from the scraps of lore we see in the game alongside my own interpretations of both characters and the potential depths lurking behind them.

My headcanons are entirely my own and I completely respect (and truthfully also adore) other interpretations of the characters and story. Please feel free to contact me to discuss the story and characters or anything else about the work, and I welcome Beta readers who are willing to give feedback and corrections to improve the work both before and after publishing (sometimes mistakes slip through the net, so please let me know to fix things here if needed)

Chapter Links Below The Cut

Series Playlist

Each chapter has a song assigned that has lyrics and/or a mood that matches the tone and story in that chapter. The main post will also contain a cut of the lyrics that I feel best match what I'm expressing with the song choice. They're all very optional! But I'll put the Spotify list here for anyone who is interested in it.

The Cambion, The Gift, and The Contract

Raphael has a new home, but the halls are remarkably empty. Mephistopheles has seen fit to send him a gift, though as with all things in the Hells, nothing is ever quite so simple... Meanwhile, an incubus with no name stands in front of a portal, ready to take the first step in the only plan they have left. One that will either secure their future or seal their fate... 4,301 Words

Summary: Raphael and the incubus meet for the first time, and the specifics of a contract are worked out between the pair. Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep SPICE Rating: 0.5/5 Content Warnings: Mild power play. There's not a lot of spice in this one, it's the following chapters that will raise that bar~

---

The Scent of Cinnamon 2 - The Contract, The Kiss, and The Cambion's Pride

With the talking over, it is time for the deal to be sealed. However, Haarlep is not willing to relinquish their physical form so quickly, nor are they in any rush to finalise the contract with Raphael without enjoying it first. 4,965 Words

Summary: Haarlep draws out the first kiss into far more devious uses of their own lips as well as Raphael's. They will ensure he doesn't forget a single thing about them. The sound of their voice, the feel of their touch, the taste of their- Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep SPICE Rating: 3.5/5 Content Warnings: Oral Sex, Shapshifting, Power Play, Mild Choking, BDSM, Aphrodisiacs, Incubus Kiss, Mild Blood, Mild Humiliation/Name Calling

---

The Deal, The Devil, and The Promise Beyond

The deal is finalised as Raphael and Haarlep continue their night together, sealing the contract with sex that will quite literally be life changing for both but not in the hyperbolic manner most would assume from the thought. For Haarlep, they take on the identity they have been given, sacrificing their physical form to take the shape of the man who owns them. For Raphael, he has fully accepted an incubus spy into his House and his bed, and despite his best laid plans he has not fully realised the consequences of the terms of that deal. 4,708 Words

Summary: Haarlep reaches the conclusion of the deal, but is in no rush to end the encounter before both of them are fully satisfied. The night, just like their body, must be unforgettable... Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep SPICE Rating: 4/5 Content Warnings: Power Play, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiac, Mild Praise Kink, Porn with Plot, Mild Pain Play

---

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

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, ---

The Night, The Incubus, and The Empty Bed

Raphael has left Haarlep to the Boudoir, settling to go over some contracts. The incubus, on the other had, is restless, unused to their new shape... 4,893 Words

Summary: Haarlep takes the time to get to know their new body, much to Raphael's frustration... Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep SPICE Rating: 2/5 Content Warnings: Mild Power Play, Mild Angst, mild emotional hurt/comfort, Mild Use of Safe Word, Masturbation, Edging, Teasing, Massage, Maybe DubCon if you really squint at it.

---

Scent of Cinnamon 6 - The Command, The Deal, And The Touch of Serendipity

Continuing directly from the last installment in this series, Raphael has agreed that it might be easier to get used to feeling Haarlep's effect on his body if he watches and instructs them on what to do. A simple task, or so he thought before he realises now that he has to actually decide what he wants. Meanwhile, the incubus is more than happy to tease their new master with the illusion of control.

3,928 Words

Summary: Raphael instructs Haarlep on exactly how to touch his...their body, while he watches Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep SPICE Rating: 3.5/5 Content Warnings: Mild Power Play, Mild Angst, Masturbation, mild alcohol mention, implied sounding (but no actual sounding), Aphrodisiacs (with consent)

---

More to follow!

BONUS - SFW(ish) EDITS!

I'm editing this fic to remove the smut, making it...not SFW but a lot closer. It's coming out as a little fun, and a little silly as all sexual references are replaced with hugs or snacks~

For now I only have the first chapter on here because it takes time to copy out of my docs, but I'll swap this link for the masterlist link once I have one!

#FanFiction Series #the scent of cinnamon #baldurs gate 3 #haarlep #bg3 raphael #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #fanfic #masterlist #fanfic masterlist #prequel #prequel fic

11 notes · View notes

im-overstimulated-and-im-sad · 6 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @lemonlyman-dotcom @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-in-glasses 🫶

Please enjoy some angst from my TK's growing up years fic -

2017 -

TK couldn’t help but fidget as he sat there. He was sitting on the couch in his dad’s office. He had no idea why. They’d returned from a call, and then there was his dad. He said, “Get your gear off and come up to my office, okay?” And TK nodded and did just that; then he barely had enough time to worry about what this was about. Then when he got to his dad’s office, the phone rang. It was the captain of the 269; Owen mouthed “sorry” as he motioned for TK to sit down and then he stepped out of his own office. And that left TK to sit and stew in his own anxieties.

Which, it hadn’t even been ten minutes yet. But TK was pretty sure that the other guys from the 252 knew that TK was up here. If they didn’t, they surely would the longer he sat and waited.

It had only been 42 days since TK had returned to work after rehab; and he had spent every day doing his best not to draw attention to himself and act like he hadn’t been gone for 30 days.

Of course, he thought bitterly to himself as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, it’s not like any of them would say anything to his face, anyway. They never did before; it didn’t stop TK from learning what they called him behind his back.

TK started to peel at the fingernail on his index finger. He had this down to a science; he knew the exact spot to stop where if he continued, he’d getting down to the quick, and it would start to bleed. His nail was diminishing; the point of no return was getting closer.

“I think you’re getting close to the bone there”. TK jumped at his dad’s voice. He sat up straighter as his dad re-entered the office and sat on the arm of the couch.

“I’m sorry about the wait,” his dad said, squeezing TK’s shoulder gently. “There’s been a problem at the 269. One of their guys might be joining us here”.

“Oh”. TK nodded. “Cool”. He watched as his dad got up and came to sit down next to him. “So,” TK said with a shrug, “what’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in with you,” Owen answered. “See how you were doing”.

“I’m fine”. TK shrugged. “Everything’s good”.

“Your mother said you might have found a place,” his dad prompted.

“Uh huh”. TK nodded. “But I can’t afford it without having her co-sign, so I’m still looking. Which, I told her this is why people have roommates; not like we don’t live in the most expensive city in the world, and—”

“And you haven’t had the best luck with roommates, son,” his dad chided him gently. “And you’re starting over, it’d be better for you not to have to worry what someone else is bringing home”.

TK groaned. “Dad, very little of what happened is Avery’s fault. And,” he stood up, “if there isn’t a reason for us to be doing this now, I’m on laundry today, and I really want to—”

“Well, there is a reason,” his dad rose to his feet as well. “And I’m afraid that it can’t wait. I need you to sit back down”. He put his hands firmly on his son’s shoulders. TK glared for a minute before he allowed his dad to gently push him back down towards the couch.

“Okay, what?” TK snapped. “What is so important?”

Owen exhaled slowly. “I just wanted to check in with you. See if there was anything you wanted to tell me… before I found out some other way?” TK racked his brain for anything, any amount of time unaccounted for that would have led to this line of questioning.

“No”. TK shook his head. “Dad, just ask me what you’re going to ask me. Get it over with”.

Owen exhaled slowly. “I’m not accusing you of anything,” he began. “But two weeks in a row you were gone at the same day for the same amount of time. Last Wednesday—”

“Oh my God,” TK buried his face in his hands. “You know, you really missed your calling as a private eye”.

“I was doing the assembly for the career fair,” his dad continued, undeterred, “which you had also originally signed up for. I was told you had taken your name off for an appointment. Then yesterday, same thing happened. After the call at the drycleaners, you mysteriously disappeared, and resurfaced around dinner. I’ve got a rational amount of concern for the situation”.

“Yeah, except you have no idea what the situation is,” TK grumbled. “And I did have an appointment. I didn’t lie about that”.

“I didn’t say you did,” his dad replied. “Who was the appointment with?” TK leaned his head back on the couch. “Why do you have to know?” TK asked.

“You know exactly why, kid,” his dad murmured. He reached over and ran a hand through his son’s hair amidst TK’s protests. “The door is closed, no one can see you”. He reminded his son. “Might I remind you, I believed you when you told me you were fine four months ago. I believed you when you said the group therapy was helping. I want more than anything to believe you… but I’m somewhat terrified of what will happen if I do”.

TK hated what his dad was saying; and hated even more that he couldn’t argue with any of it. So much for this being a good surprise. “Fine”. He sighed. “You win. It’s Hazel McLaughlin”.

“Oh”. Not the answer Owen was expecting. “She works out of the 243. How’d you meet her?”

“I got her name from Diana Pink”. TK hugged his arms to his chest. “Then I sent her a message on Facebook. With Lyle gone, she’s the only person I know who’s dual certified. She’s been helping me study to take the test. To be a dual certified firefighter and paramedic”.

No pressure tagging: I tag @dreamingofmickeywaffles @sznofthesticks @firstprince-history-huh @tailoredshirt @kiloskywalker @sugdenlovesdingle @ellena-asg @inkweedandlizards @kiankiwi @paperstorm @heartstringsduet @reyestrandd and anyone else who wants to do it - open tag 💝🥰

#911 lone star #wip wednesday #911 ls fic #prequel fic #911 ls wip #my fic #my wip fic

23 notes · View notes

redhairedgirl95 · 29 days

Text

All that glitters is not gold

Chapter 10 - Fading lights

We are reaching the end of the line. There are cracks and the light ... can't shine forever.

Happy (late) Easter, winxers! I'm so sorry to have made you wait so long for the update, but it's here! I hove you've enjoyed it and can't wait to hear (read) your thoughts.

Thank you for sticking around <3

10 notes · View notes

lozriftsintime · 9 days

Text

Several hours late, but here is my fill of yesterday’s prompt from @breannasfluff’s Ravioli Ship Week!

Music? Check.

Guests? Check.

Outfits? Check.

Decorations? Check.

Food? Did they have enough food? In traditional Lorulian fashion, the guests were all supposed to bring something for the meal. And they’d all agreed to bring sides and deserts to add to the roasted boar (haha. Thanks Zelda) that Zelda had gotten the castle chef to provide, but what if they didn’t? Or what if it wasn’t enough? What if they ran out of food before everyone had-

“If you keep that up you’re going to end up rubbing your hands raw before we even get started.” Zelda’s voice startled Link out of their mental spiral, causing them to jump and spin around to find her standing in the doorway of the room they had been told to wait in.

“Wha-?” Link blinked at her, drawing a snort of laughter from her (one Link still prided themself in getting to hear even after all this time. Zelda never laughed like that in public).

”Your hands,” she elaborated, gesturing down at them. Confused, Link looked down at their hands only to find that their rings were all askew and the skin around the beginnings of their thumbs and pointer fingers were red.

Oh.

They’d been rubbing them again hadn’t they.

“Sorry.” Embarrassed, they quickly straightened their rings (green holy ring, gold joy ring, roc’s ring) before shaking out their hands.

“It’s fine,” Zelda soothed, making her way over to them and running a light hand over the redness. Soft, bright energy sparked across their skin and when she removed her hands the redness is gone. “What has you so worked up?”

“I justâ€¦” Link crossed their arms, hugging themself to stop from rubbing at their hands again. “I want today to be perfect, you know? He deserves for it to be perfect.”

“And it’s going to be perfect,” Zelda reassured them with an understanding smile. “You two have put far too much work into it for it not to be. And even if something does somehow go wrong it will still be perfect. Because it’s you and him. And you’re finally getting married. So stop worrying so much, Little Sibling.”

“I know. I know,” Link sighed, reaching up to rub at their face. “I just—”

“You fret, I know,” Zelda’s smile quirked up in amusement. “It’s what you do. But you don’t have to fret about this. You and Ravio have this all planned out perfectly. And Hilda and I have our part covered.”

“Right.” Link nodded. They knew all this. They just needed to convince their anxiety. “You’re right. It will be fine.”

Read the rest Here

#rifts in time #my au #writing #rit mural #rit ravio #ravioli ship #ravioli ship week #ravio x link #link x ravio #prequel fic #fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

fruitviking · 4 months

Text

New Non-Verbal Holmes fic!

#sherlock holmes #dr watson #nonverbal holmes #fic series #new fic #prequel fic

12 notes · View notes

granatkoroleva · 1 year

Text

Starstruck

{𝑹𝒆𝒅,𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆,𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑾𝒐𝒐!‘𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆}

Pairing ⍟ Rockstar!Bucky Barnes x Captain America!Steve Rogers [Shrunkyclunks]

Rating ⍟ E

Word Count ⍟ 6.6k

Major Tags ⍟ Shrunkyclunks, Modern AU, Prequel Fic, Bucky's Birthday, Rockstar!Bucky, Charity Auctions, PWP, Explicit Content, Strangers To Lovers, Getting To Know Each Other, Original Songs, Serenading, Everything Is Beautiful & Nothing Hurts, Happy Ending

Summary ⍟ Bucky's evening cannot get any worse.

“Our next bachelor up for bid tonight is a wild card.” The crowd chuckles, but a few at the front tables stay mum at the glare he sends the group. This is the last fucking place he wants to be. “Grammy award-winning musician and songwriter. He’s the frontman of Winter Star, branded by Rolling Stone as the “it” sound to hear. His passions include reading by the fire, romantic cooking, and long walks in the…snow?” The crowd laughs again, and he, despite his scantily clad concert attire, starts to sweat under the gaze and heated lights. “Bucky Barnes!” The MC announces too loudly, the mic cracking.

“Fuck me.” He hisses under his breath, clenching down on his teeth.

He closes his eyes attempting to starve away from the humiliation and tries to think of a happy place. He gets as far as his own apartment, in the bathtub before a deep voice has him jerking back with surprise.

“I’m sorry sir, please correct me if I misheard. But did you say—“

“I said.” The tall blond steps out from the shadows and into the spotlight in the center of the dance floor— holy fucking shit, that’s Steve Rogers, Captain America. “Five hundred thousand dollars.” Dark eyes lock on him, and Bucky bites back the squeal trying to leave his throat.

You know what they don't tell you when you pursing your dreams and shoot to fame? That it doesn’t make you any less of a fan yourself. That it does not diminish your own personal fandom in any way. His childhood hero, the man who inspired his gay awakening—just paid half a million dollars for a date with him. Okay, so it's for a good cause.

Square + Prompt ⍟

Ⓘ ⓸ + March Monthy Mission: Happy Birthday Bucky! | AllCapsBingo | Card # AC 1094 | @allcapsbingo

Ⓑ ⓶ + Music | Stucky Bingo | Card # R40101 | @stuckybingo

Read on Ao3

Author's Note ⍟

Happy Birthday Bucky!

@buckybarnesevents

#stucky #smutconnoisseur #shrinkyclunks #steve rogers #bucky barnes #rockstar bucky #RW&W Verse #Prequel fic #Stucky fan fic #allcapsbingo2023 #stucky bingo round 4 #steve x bucky #ao3 #bbbdaybash2023 #Happy Birthday Bucky #birthday fic #fic moodboard

53 notes · View notes

insidethekaleidoscope · 6 months

Text

So, I surprised myself with this one and wrote a fic that involves 0% Locklyle. But hopefully someone is still interested in reading it 😅

Ok, so I know in the books Lockwood and Flo are friends because of fencing, but in my opinion the show was setting up a closer backstory for them. This is based mostly on the fact that its implied Flo knows what's behind the door on the landing. I find it hard to believe that Lockwood would have shown her unless they were really really close or she'd known him as a child. Also, show Flo just has real unhinged big sister vibes.

Anyway, I was just very intrigued by the fact that they obviously were very close and care deeply about one another, but there's also some level of distance between them.

This fic also plays off the comment Flo makes to George about knowing he's mesmerized because "we can smell our own."

Anyway, never expected to write a Flo character study, yet here we are, and I'm quite attached to it.

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwood and co fanfiction #anthony lockwood #flo bones #prequel fic #found family

16 notes · View notes

purplemindmeld · 1 year

Text

Found the prequel to Gornachev

#gornachev #prequel fic #thrifting

68 notes · View notes

magimerlyn · 6 months

Text

Until the End

An Ever After High prequel fanfiction

Chapter 1

The Wrong Roommate

It was the beginning of the school year at Ever After High, and students were beginning to move onto campus and into the dorms. A girl with pale, milky skin and long, cream colored hair went to the bulletin board to double check the dorm assignments. She wore a pink knee-length skirt, and a white blouse with lace sleeves. Her pink kitten heels had a small pearl dangling from each buckle. She wore a white pearl headband and carried a small, square white handbag with a light pink rose in the center.

Pearl White, the descendant of Snow White, sighed, seeing that the headmasters had not honored her request for a fellow princess as her roommate. Well, that wasn’t quite accurate. They had decided to room her with Victoria Hearts, the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, an exchange student from Wonderland who was there to take advantage of the princess class track at Ever After High.

Pearl had hoped to room with one of her friends, like Helena or Cynthia. The three has met in middle school, when Pearl had all but begged her mother to let her go to public school. The girls had quickly become friends. They bonded over and daydreamed about their destinies, and their bond had lasted for years now. And it would for ages to come.

The heavy doors of the school slammed open with violent purple magic. In strode Adrian Queen, the son of the Evil Queen, with Ragnar Huntsman following a step behind him. Pearl quickly averted her gaze, hoping to avoid his notice. This was why she had wanted to room with one of her friends, so she wouldn’t be alone when he inevitably decided to hurt her arbitrarily.

She could feel the moment when his alexandrite eyes landed on her, could see in her mind’s eye the cold, cruel smirk that spread across his face. She heard the click click click of his heeled dragon-scale boots as he walked across the polished wooden floors, coming to a stop right behind her.

“Hello, dear sister,” a black velvet voice purred from behind her. Slowly, she turned, looking up at the boy standing a few feet away. His black hair was swept to one side of his face, an iron crown sitting upon his head. He wore his royal wealth with pride, a deep purple stone hanging from one ear, and a black cape trimmed in gold and lined with indigo off one shoulder. His high-necked black shirt tucked into high-waisted tailored trousers. An iron corset encircled his waist and he wore a matching bracer on each arm.

“Hello, Adrian,” she said, barely keeping her voice steady. “Is there something you needed?”

The smirk widened into a cold grin, showing far too many teeth to be anything resembling friendly. “I just wanted to know who your new roommate was. It would be best if I took care of any misunderstandings early on, don’t you agree?”

Pearl sighed, glancing back up at the board. “I’m roommates with Victoria Hearts of Wonderland. She’s an exchange student.”

Adrian looked pensive for a moment, before saying “Ah, the future Queen of Wonderland. Good, I had worried it’d be someone I’d need to talk to.”

“Talk to” would have meant threatening Pearl’s roommate to not get involved in their affairs, but since everyone knows that villains all have an unspoken agreement to not get involved anyway, it would be unnecessary.

“Where’s your luggage, Ragnar and I will help you bring it up to your room.” That predator grin was back. Sometimes Pearl could swear that Adrian was part dragon, the way he played with his food. She nodded demurely and the three of them walked out to where her carriage had dropped her and her friends off. Her luggage was piled next to her friends’, where Adrian’s magic wrapped around it to lift into the air.

Ragnar nodded at the two girls in greeting. He didn’t often say much, in fact all most people ever heard leave his lips was a reverent “yes, your highness,” always directed at Adrian. His chestnut hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, choppy bangs framing his face. His almond-shaped eyes were like pools of emerald, and just as hard. Pearl noted that his bow and sword were missing from his back and side, though the rest of his outfit was the same as always: a studded leather pauldron over a deep blue shirt, a few belts that would ordinarily hold his sheath and quiver, and dark brown pants tucked into leather boots. The only thing on his belt right now was Adrian’s Token: an iron dragon curled around a piece of cut alexandrite.

Helena Rose, a dark-skinned girl with onyx eyes, looked up from the book in her hands. Her black braids were pulled into a half ponytail and she wore a yellow sundress paired with a flower crown. Her wedge sandals matched the woven straw purse slung across her body. She was sitting next to Cynthia Ella, a girl with dark brown hair and tinted skin. Her sapphire blue eyes sharpened when she saw Pearl’s luggage starting to float. She stood up, brushing down her deep blue skirt and glared at Adrian from behind her wire-rimmed glasses.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, one hand resting on her hip.

Adrian briefly glanced over to the girls before turning his attention back to the suitcases. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with, Cindy. Don’t you have some laundry to do?”

Cynthia fumed as Pearl spoke up. “He’s helping me get settled in. Everything is okay, I promise.” She gave a reassuring smile. “You know how it is.”

Her friend looked like she wanted to say something, but she sighed, relenting. “So I’m guessing we’re not roommates?” Pearl shook her head regretfully. Cynthia cursed under her breath before her eyes flickered to Pearl’s brother. “They didn’t put you with-“

“Of course not!” Pearl tried to soothe her friend. “After what happened in middle school, there’s no way they’d try putting him in the girl’s dorms.”

Adrian laughed from where he was standing. “Who could have guessed that preserved Dragon’s Breath could be so volatile?” Ragnar cracked a grin at that, his gaze softening as he looked at the smirking warlock.

Pearl offered Cynthia a reassuring smile. “They have me rooming with Victoria Hearts. Adrian is just helping me with my luggage. He insisted.” She shrugged, trying to convey a “what can you do?” It didn’t seem to work, judging by Cynthia’s expression.

“Pearl.” Adrian called sharply. She jolted, before shooting a last smile at her friends and hurrying over to her brother. He strode forward, his knight at his right hand and his sister at his left. The crowds parted on their approach, previously spoken conversations hushed down to a whisper. The three of them climbed the stairs of the girl’s dormitory. When they finally reached the door with Pearl’s name on it, Adrian knocked imperiously before having Ragnar open it.

Half of the room was already decorated in red, black, white, and gold. A black vanity with gold on the edges stood a few feet down from the tufted red and white bed frame. The bed was pushed against the wall, and a shining black nightstand stood beside it. There was a large red armchair positioned next to a small bookshelf by the window, already set up with bright red drapes.

Sitting at the vanity was a girl with long black hair. When the door opened, she turned her pale, heart-shaped face to the intruders, her garnet eyes looking them up and down. Her makeup was simple, but harsh, her lips painted into a small, blood-red heart. She had blunt bangs cut just above her eyebrows, and half of her hair was tied up in a heart-shaped bun. She wore a golden tiara with heart-shaped rubies and oval-shaped pieces of jet. She wore a high-necked, tight-fitting black shirt, with a red corseted skirt reaching just below her knee. A red, heart-shaped purse with a golden chain was slung over the back of her chair.

“White knight, moonshine, a place, a face, I have mine?*” she asked. Pearl and Ragnar shared a look of confusion, while Adrian laughed.

“Well then, that certainly clears up any question of this being the right room,” he smirked, leading the trio inside. “I am Adrian Queen, son of the Evil Queen. I’m helping my sister move in. And you must be Princess Victoria Hearts of Wonderland.”

Victoria nodded. “And I presume you are my roommate,” she said, turning her gaze over to Pearl, who nodded.

“My name is Pearl White, daughter of Ivory White. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She looked around the room. “I… like your room. It’s very… fitting.”

“Clubs, spades, hearts and diamonds all ten,”* Victoria said, turning back to her vanity and the cards she had set out.

Adrian set down the luggage. “Well then, Ragnar and I will be off. Pearl, I’m sure you’ll behave yourself.” With that, he swept out of the room, leaving Pearl to unpack on her own, with a villain on the other side of the room.

*Riddlish translations:

“Hello, what is your name?”

“That is very kind of you.”

#ever after high #eah fanfic #prequel fic #original character #literally everyone in this is an oc #show canon compliant #this is about the grandparents of the canon EAH characters #weve got Apple's grandmother #Raven's grandfather #Hunter's great-uncle #his grandma will show up later #rosabella's grandmother #Ashlynn's grandmother #and Lizzie's grandmother #there's also a few assorted Charmings later on #mentions of fairies #you know #standard EAH fare #additional chapters are in the reblogs

12 notes · View notes

tippenfunkaport · 1 year

Text

I've been completely spoiled in the best way with fanart of my fics lately and I LOVE this adorable drawing of young Glimmer and Bow from my fic Bow's Bow from my Glowing Up Shorts collection.

Gifting me fanart is one of the best ways to manipulate me into updating my fics more often so jot that down! 😂 (Leaving me nice comments or sharing on social media is a close second tho!)

#glimbow #young glimbow #glimmer #bow #spop #shera #she ra #glowing up #fanart #fanfic #prequel fic #they just look so cute in this I cannot #tippen's fics

24 notes · View notes

tavyliasin · 14 days

Text

The Scent of Cinnamon 1 - The Cambion, The Gift, and The Contract

--- The Scent of Cinnamon is a prequel series focusing on Raphael and Haarlep from the moment they meet, continuing through various events up to the beginning of Baldur's Gate 3. Summary: Raphael and the incubus meet for the first time, and the specifics of a contract are worked out between the pair. Pairing: Raphael/Haarlep SPICE Rating: 0.5/5 Content Warnings: Mild power play. There's not a lot of spice in this one, it's the following chapters that will raise that bar~

Spoilers Vague House of Hope and Act 3, but most of this series is focused on what came before. Canon Compliance Most of this is being pulled together from scraps and hints in the game and from the lore of D&D in general. Haarlep's initial physical appearance is based on incubus/succubus lore in the sourcebooks - mostly human features on their bodies, human ranges of skin tones, but they still have wings and tails, and shorter horns than cambions or tieflings have. I also go with a personal HC that Haarlep can only shift into the body of someone they have a deal with. Other Notes An image of a concept for Haarlep's original appearance will be added at the end of the fic, so keep an eye out for that~

Song Pairing (Click the title to open spotify) Play Dirty by Kevin McAllister, [SEABELL] "Do you wanna put up a fight? Or do you wanna get out alive? Everybody is picking a side And this can only end one way

Would you get the Devil this dance? Would you be a part of his plans? Now you got some blood on your hands Well, this can only end one way

If you wanna go, this is how it goes If you wanna roll, heads are gonna roll If you wanna play, we can play all day But we play, play dirty, play dirty"

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

The Cambion, The Gift, and The Contract

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. Had he taken his other form, huge red wings would stretch above him, a long tail slapping the floor in irritation behind him, and soft brown eyes would instead blaze with hellfire. His whole form would be larger, and his skin would be a deep crimson, ridges across his well defined muscles more reminiscent of his demonic heritage than the human half. However, it was often easier to remain in the guise of a human man. Aside from not having to deal with the physical logistics of wings, horns, and a tail, potential clients found him to be more trustworthy, and the reveal of his demonic guise was often another powerful tool of intimidation and persuasion. Occasionally, some found him to be seductive, but he tired of trying to please people he had no interest in. There were no fiends in all the hells he could trust to be intimate with, and mortals were so terribly boring, weak, and short-lived. No, they were far better as tools, pawns in his grander designs, so sex was a last resort to seal a particularly irritating deal. This might have been seen as unusual in the hells, for any fiend to have no attraction or desire to act upon their libido, but Raphael did not care. He could satisfy himself should the need arise, and it was safer not to let anyone in to his abode. Not until he had built up his loyal following.

Unfortunately, so far he only had a couple of apprenticed Warlocks, and one or two debtors scrubbing his floors. And now he had to greet a stranger. The letter had specified a “gift”. Knowing Mephistopheles, this would not be the kind of gift that came with a single catch, but more an entire shoal of red herrings to sift through to find which specific catch he needed to be concerned about.

—

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.

—

Raphael sat back on his chair, tilting it so the front legs were no longer on the floor, boots on the edge of his desk as he read through pages of another contract. Etiquette might demand he stand to greet the arrival, due any moment now, but Raphael was not one to heed any demands but his own.

He didn’t look up when the familiar electricity of the magic swirled in the air, nor did he pay attention to the polite cough from the guest.

“You’re late.” He lied, thumbing through the pages and moving one to the front, still not looking up from the paper.

“And you’re human.” The visitor stated, all too bluntly for Raphael’s liking. “I was told to expect a cambion, Raphael. Does the master of the house not see fit to handle his own household?”

The cambion bristled. His brow darkened a little, though only one watching very closely would notice the subtle change. “You would do well to remember at least a modicum of respect when addressing your new master, regardless what form he might appear in. Are all gifts supposed to be so rude when accepting hospitality?”

“Hah! What hospitality? There’s barely a thing here, and I am barefoot upon your floor. Gift, indeed, that you do not even look upon me let alone deign to unwrap me.” They were becoming no more humble. If anything, they were becoming more bold by the moment.

The attitude was finally reaching Raphael’s limit. He looked up from the papers to see who would have the audacity to address him so.

For a moment, his thumb slipped, one of the pages almost dropping from the stack as he took in the tall and slender form of the nameless incubus. He quickly regained his composure, but not before they had noticed.

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.”

The cambion bristled at his name being used so casually, but remembered a key point. “Name. What is it?”

“I don’t have one, not until you choose one for me. Spiteful of your father to take my identity, but at least I kept my good looks.” The incubus brushed off the lingering insult of what they’d had to trade for the opportunity. It would be worth it, eventually.

“Then I should know you first, incubus. I shall choose a name befitting your station.” He continued to lead the way through the halls, keeping a few steps ahead of the honest spy who was taking note of every crack in the walls.

—

The incubus watched Raphael carefully. Every movement, every time his gait shifted to avoid stepping on a looser stone. Their bare feet felt uncomfortable on the floor, but it mattered little.

They noticed the silence in the halls, only one terrified half elf dressed in rags scurried away as they passed by, busying themselves cleaning some furniture in a side room. There was a lingering scent of cherry that drifted from the cambion ahead, though that was the only note of perfume they detected. Somehow, something so simple hardly seemed fitting.

The door to the bedchamber was large, heavy, and sealed with a magical lock. A simple spell had it opening before the master of the house, who gestured for them to enter.

“There, take a seat.” He indicated a pair of chairs near the balcony on the far side of a huge four poster bed, heavy red velvet drapes skirting the floor, a deep contrast against ebony silk sheets.

They ignored the suggestion of the chairs entirely, and instead took a seat on the edge of the bed, their tail snaking out behind them to smooth over the sheets. “Not bad, I’ve been in softer.”

“That is not for your benefit.” Raphael stood a little taller, crossing his arms and glaring invisible flames towards defiant green eyes.

“Then for yours? You are aware of my nature as an incubus, if you are to indulge in my many pleasures, I am not one to receive.” They watched his reaction, wings folding carefully inwards to soften the challenge of the statement.

“We shall see. I have yet to decide on that matter.” The incubus smirked at that reply, it was not a no . Raphael continued regardless. “What are your abilities?”

“Aside from near infinite pleasure? I can take the form of any who have made a contract with me.” They shifted now with a spell, appearing first as an elven woman with flowing ginger hair and freckles across her cheeks. The next moment the magical fire enveloped them they became a dwarven man with a long braided beard and dark eyes below a heavy set brow. The third form they took was a dragonborn with sparkling iridescent scales. “This one was a particular favourite, a beautiful rarity. So I may become anyone you wish me to be, so long as I have laid with them.”

“Any form? Including another fiend?” Raphael arched an eyebrow, fingertip tapping against his jaw as he considered the options.

“Another devil taken your fancy?” The incubus laughed, remaining in the guise of the dragonborn for now. “Of my many forms I have not added a fiend, yet…but were I to take yours, there would be some benefits.”

“Benefits? It seems more like a remarkably unpleasant experience from start to finish.” Despite his words, he appeared to be waiting to hear more.

“Any time I take on the body of someone I have slept with,” they ran a claw down their chest, hand drifting beneath their robes momentarily, “they feel it when their form is used. Echoes of pleasure even across planes, though more intense the closer they are. If they were in the room right now, they would feel the sensation of their own hand on their body.”

“So, enhanced pleasure, and a disguise?” Raphael took a longer moment to consider it. “I can see a use for this, incubus.”

“Wait, you actually wish to deal with me yourself?” Their bravado finally slipped away in surprise, transforming back to their original body. “You would give me access to your form, control over your pleasure?”

“Must you be so vulgar about it? This could work to our advantage. Depending…” Raphael stepped forwards. “Tell me, spy, what were you offered?” “Simple. My own domain, power over it, and whatever delicious specimens I wish to devour.” They held his gaze, even as he blocked the light behind him. “I enjoy sex as much as I am sustained by it as my meal. I have known hunger, Raphael, and I have known powerlessness. I have no desire to become intimate with either again.” “So you want power, pleasure, and a range of flavours to sample? That is as cheap as you are to trade your identity, your entire being, devoting centuries to espionage for such pittance?” He was treading a line in his voice between anger and disappointment. The incubus’s tail began to flick with annoyance. “There was hardly anything to trade. What’s in a name, anyway? And a few centuries in the span of immortality, that’s nothing. An easy job, made all the simpler by the particular subject. You don’t even object to my presence or motivations… What do you desire, Raphael?” They prodded back with their question, working out how the pieces would fit together.

“Perhaps not so different, incubus. Power would be a simplification, but an accurate one. First I will expand my influence here, then across the rest of Avernus.” He raised his hand, infernal fire wrapping around him in an instant, transforming him into his more devilish physique. His horns curved above him, crowning his chestnut hair, wings spreading like a wide and regal cloak behind him in the same deep red as his skin. He had grown taller, marginally more muscular, and his own tail swished behind him. Fiery eyes regarded his guest with a new intensity. “Quite simply, I shall become an Archduke. The Archduke. The nine hells are full of infighting and imbeciles, one hand should have a tight grip upon them all. And that hand will be mine.”

The incubus watched the display with interest, contemplating their options. “You’re very sure of yourself, perhaps I should call you Archduke already if that is your goal. Consider it forward payment, if you are to rise to such lofty heights. Are you certain you should be telling your father’s spy all of your plans?”

“That man would be far more than ignorant to not believe that this is my exact aim. I would imagine he would be thoroughly disappointed if his progeny lacked any ambition. You’re welcome to report that back to him if you so wish, but it has as much merit as telling him that rain makes things wet.” Raphael considered the rest of the statement, clawed finger rubbing along the line of his jaw. “As for the title… No. Not until I have what I want. Although names have power in themselves, and we do not yet have one for you.”

“Whatever identity I had is gone, all that remains is my body, and even that is more changeable than the weather in the material realm. So call me whatever you like, Archduke, it matters little. ” The smirked at seeing him bristle at the nickname, the implied insult. “Then you are willing to consider my deal? There are plenty of… benefits to a night with me~”

“You have been ill-informed to believe me easy to bed. I will not lay with any harlot to stroll into my bedchambers.”

It was the incubus’s turn to darken their expression, voice gaining the edge of a growl. “Oh I am well aware of your type, Archduke . Aren’t you tired of primming and posing? Of all this air of I’m so much better than you, listen to me, do this, do that, puny lesser beings .” They stood, rising to their full height, standing just a little taller than Raphael even though he had transformed. The tips of the cambion’s horns were higher, but their eyes were above his. The realisation widened their sinister smile. “You do not need to be above everyone all the time, that is why you didn’t turn me away when I told you I will not lie beneath you.”

“You think yourself more powerful, do you? Need I remind you that I am the Master of this house, I own you, incubus, you are a gift in a pretty bow.” He stood firm, unswayed as they moved closer, the strong scent of cinnamon drifting from their warm-toned skin.

“You feel nothing, even now?” Their bright green eyes glowed more intensely in the face of Raphael’s insults, paying his venom no mind. Their tail began to touch his lower leg as they stepped even closer, faces just inches away. “You do not, do you…but you feel that.”

—

Raphael certainly felt something. Irritation, the searing tip of white hot rage pressing forward like a knife at the front of his mind, and…curiosity. How could he not be curious about a fiend who dared to be so brazen with him? To stand before him without bowing even once, never offering a single thing to gain his favour. They were speaking to him as an equal - that should have been an immense insult, and yet… “You should have more care about where you touch, harlot.” The offensive nickname slipped quickly from his lips, just as his tail slapped away the one that had been threatening to tug him off balance. “I have given you no such permission.”

“Then if you gave me permission, you would allow it? Very interesting, Archduke. Let me ask you this, if I may?” They kept from touching him again, for now, instead observing his features closer with a piercing gaze.

“Ask. There is little point in asking to ask, aside from wasting my time.” He remained unmoved, tail betraying a hint of his irritation still.

“Your clients, the mortals you deal with. They desire you, do they not? You are a handsome devil, in either of your forms. Your human guise perhaps more attractive to some than your true fiendish self, but I see the appeal in both.” They smiled more sweetly, bringing a hand towards his face, never touching but tracing a line above his cheekbone, his jawline… A mockery of a lover’s caress.

“I am not here to be eye candy to you.” He sneered, faint lines in his face appearing with the expression. “Seduction is merely another card in my deck, mortal beings are too easy to manipulate with desire. Something I am sure a harlot would be more than aware of. You do not need me to point that out.”

“Quite so,” they continued their touchless caress down his neck, along his shoulder, and close to the top edge of his wing. “But I would be more than willing to fill your pointy boots in that regard~”

“I see you do have at least a modicum of sense between your filthy ideas.” He summoned a scroll to his hand, a quill pen appearing in the other, tip glowing with infernal magic. “Rules, incubus, and they will be followed. Without fail. Or I will not hesitate to cast you out of here.”

They sighed, hand dropping back to their side from where it had been hovering above the thinner and more sensitive skin of the cambion’s wings. “ Fine, if you insist we shall have it all in writing. You are to ensure I do not go hungry. Either provide me with partners to satisfy my hunger, or satisfy me with your own body.”

“Agreed.” Lines appeared upon the page in infernal script, glowing on the parchment with the power they contained. “And you shall not lay so much as a finger upon a client without my permission.”

“Then make it simple. This room will be mine as much as it is yours. Those you allow to cross the threshold are by rights my own to take, should they agree to it.” They smirked, adding to the letters upon the page. “The house is your domain, but in this room I am the only Master.”

Raphael’s ego failed to pick up on the edge of their tone as he easily agreed to the term, and moved on to the next. “Then the illusion must be maintained. Once you have my form, you are to wear it until or unless I specify otherwise.”

This time the incubus wavered. “You are asking me to give up the last shred of my personhood, to become you?”

“No. You will retain your personality as you see fit. You are to be my mirror in appearance, I cannot have a stray client or debtor seeing through that. They must believe, at least to a degree, that it is me they are laying with, and not some brothel-hired -” He paused. His finger traced a few letters in the air, moving them around, reforming his own name into something new. “That’s it. Haarlep. A perfect anagram, the version of Raphael that is closer to the Harlot that you are.” “You scorn me even as you wish to use me to your own ends?” The incubus frowned, though the name…was not entirely objectionable.

“The name should be a fitting match for the wearer, should it not? Or do you have a better idea?” He raised an eyebrow, staring directly into the incubus’ eyes. “I suppose I can become accustomed to it, with time.” They looked at the page, filling with more rules as they talked.

—

Some time later the full document was drawn up and signed, befitting Raphael’s side of the deal. Haarlep, as they had reluctantly accepted the name, would require the consummation to finalise things yet.

Both cambion and incubus smirked, feeling as if they had outmanoeuvred the other, their own egos clouding their gaze from the space between the lines. Had they looked closer, they might have noticed the finer details they hid from each other between clever words and half-truths…but it mattered little. The signatures marked the parchment in clear and binding text.

Haarlep, as they were now named, watched the scroll disappear to whatever archive it would be stored in with a wide smile.

“And what is it precisely that you find so amusing?” Raphael’s voice drew their gaze back to his eyes.

“Oh, nothing, Archduke.” They leaned just a little closer to his face. His appearance was by no means distasteful, if they were being honest they found his form to be intensely attractive, their imagination already undressing him as they spoke. “Now, I want you to take a very good look at me. Memorise every pore in my skin, every hair on my head, every little details of me . If I am to give it up, to become you until such time as either we reach our common goal or Mephistopheles decides my work here is done, I would have at least one being remember me properly.”

“I can have a portrait made if you are so particular. And despite your glamour, you will have access to this form should it be permitted.” He pulled back by an almost imperceptible amount, small wrinkles forming on the bridge of his nose.

“No.” The incubus spoke with a growing air of authority. “I will burn every part of my image into your mind and body. Every time you close your eyes you will see me, every moment of silence you will hear my true voice in your ear, every moment your own hands touch your body the grip you will feel upon your throat will be mine.”

Raphael took an involuntary step back this time. The imposing figure of his supposed gift, the toy he was simply supposed to occupy the hours with, the being that was intended to be used for pleasure alone…it felt as if their shadow was about to swallow him whole. Haarlep could see it in his eyes, the way the sweat began to bead on his brow, the breath catching in his throat as they leaned closer again.

They had him cornered like prey, a meal they fully intended to devour, the promise of what the contract could deliver almost as enticing as the low scent of arousal rising from the cambion’s crimson skin. “You needn’t fear my touch, Raphael. I assure you, this can be a most pleasant experience. You feel it already, do you not? The anticipation rising within you, the heat of my body moving closer, that sweet cinnamon filling your senses already…” They grinned wickedly. “It is, of course, more potent from my tongue, but there are ways I can allow the aphrodisiac my body produces begin to affect you from this distance.”

“That…would be acceptable.” The usually proud cambion struggled to find the words, his presence shrinking back with the hint of power in the words he had already signed away.

“Then you accept my lips? You want to feel the kiss of an incubus, to taste my lust upon your tongue?” Their wings fluttered in anticipation.

“Stop talking already. Your master has granted you permission by the terms of the deal.”

“Oh, Raphael, you have forgotten so quickly…in this room, I am the Master now.”

--- --- ENDING NOTES --- ---

Well I did promise the images of Prequel Haarlep, so here they are~ This was made by someone who has a fair few mods for BG3, based on my description. In truth, I far prefer @littleprincepaladin's artwork

Original Work Notes (from the time this was first published)

Haarlep's original form is based on incubus/succubus lore. They are shown to have far smaller horns than cambions, a more human range of skin tones and not blues/reds/etc like cambions and tieflings have. They do, however, still have wings and tails.

The article is written a lot in binary gender terms but I prefer to see it like the original literal meanings of the words: Incubus - to lie on top of Succubus - to lie beneath Concubus - to lie beside

So there could be male succubi, female incubi, and in general they do not necessarily have a fixed gender unless they choose to.

My version of Haarlep here uses they/them pronouns, in the same way that the game does, and prefers a slightly masculine leaning body type. They would consider themselves genderfluid or gender neutral by our terms, though they really do not care for it at all unless it has something to do with pleasure or power.

I do not have an original name for them, and this is intentional too. They will, however, grow into their new role and title as the chapters progress.

CHAPTER 2 HERE

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #haarlep #bg3 raphael #the scent of cinnamon #prequel fic #bg3 prequel #incubus #almost sfw this chapter #but the next 2 are pure spice #Spotify

7 notes · View notes