#archfey raphael

[abyssalaerlocke]

Aquafey

Masterlist

Stolen V

"I never signed this," Raphael argued, looking over the custody contract.

"Your mother and I did, when she was pregnant," his father clarified.

Raphael shook his head and huffed derisively as he saw where things went wrong. All of the shit he dealt with growing up in hell under an Archdevil, because they hadn't even met him yet — they just assumed.

"It references you by name?" Haarlep asked, peeking, but the satyr couldn't read it anyway.

Raphael hummed in affirmation. "It's all or nothing, laid out based on whether they had a male or a female. The corresponding parent would get full custody, parenting decisions, and already had their chosen names documented," he pointed, before looking up at his father. "Only you made the mistake of assuming a daughter would take after her dryad mother, and a son would take after you — you never accounted for me."

"...I take it your mother isn't the sweetest peach on the tree?"

"Not from what I remember," Raphael muttered, poring over the contract again. "Anyway, congratulations on your adoption," he informed, eyes glinting with schadenfreude as he squeezed Haarlep's shoulder, looking up at Mephistopheles.

The Archdevil's eyes darkened. "I didn't adopt him."

"Maybe if you'd done more research on fey before making this contract, you'd have known I was a possibility — or understood that he is Raphael now."

"Contracts don't apply to anyone with the same name," Mephistopheles rumbled louder, growing annoyed. "It specifically refers to my son Raphael."

Raphael nodded and hummed in agreement. "He isn't any Raphael. He has my name, this name," he pointed. "So when it declares 'your son, Raphael', that no longer binds me, it binds him — your son, Raphael."

The Archdevil glowered, hellfire licking up his arms. "Whatever fey shit you two did, fix it. Now."

"No." Raphael smiled.

The towering devil got out of his seat, voice raised and roiling through the great hall. "Raphael!"

He saw Haarlep flinch next to him.

"I'm not your son," he stated, and Mephistopheles' nostrils flared. "But I'll help you make a new contract."

Haarlep was anxious. He should be — he fucked around and got himself into this mess.

Raphael was free, he wasn't going to take his place.

But he wouldn't wholly leave him out to dry, either.

Haarlep had violated the existing contract by living outside of hell — as long as he held to the new terms, there would be no more burning. Just a singular, permanent consequence: of Mephistopheles turning him into the devil he always wanted Raphael to be.

The transformation wasn't total, but the newly fiendish satyr would read as a devil to any magic. He kept his hooves, his horns, but his skin turned red, eyes burning like glowing embers, and his tail lengthened to something thrashing, tufted with its original fur.

He would present as Mephistopheles' son and live in hell; but Raphael would bring him back to the feywild at regular intervals — dying, when necessary, to come pick him up — before returning him when the time distortions would leave him absent for less than a day.

Nobody was happy, but it was the only thing they all could accept.

And so his fate was signed, and Raphael left without him.

Masterlist

[abyssalaerlocke]

Aquafey

Masterlist

Stolen I

Raphael rubbed at his arms as the itching burn coursed through his veins. The only injury had been from his own scratching, but he felt the threat of his father's hellfire under his skin. It had shown up since he settled into his new home in the feywild, and been gradually worsening; Mephistopheles was angry.

"Are you Raphael?"

He leaned forward, looking down at the satyr from his perch in the trees.

"I could be."

The young man grinned, and started talking animatedly, the Sylvan words slipping through Raphael's fingers faster than he could translate them, but from what he caught, he seemed to be a fan of the new verdant prince, and wanted… a picture? a statue? Some kind of image or likeness. The wording felt a bit odd when he tried to mentally translate it to Infernal, but translations weren't exact — every language and culture held its own nuances and connotations.

It's why devils used Infernal for their contracts — regardless of how it might be translated for the other party's convenience, the Infernal version, with its meanings, clearly defined in Infernal law, was the version that was binding, in case of any disputes.

Likewise, Raphael wasn't sure if he was asking for it to be autographed, or just have the subject's name on a statue's plaque. He drew a sheet of paper from thin air with a flicker of sparks, thick, woody vines extending from his back and grasping the branches as he carefully lowered himself to the ground. "Of course."

By the time he landed in front of the smaller fey, who looked up at him with a mix of awe and terror, the magic quill had finished its work. Raphael looked at the paper, delicate lines recording his features. He took the floating quill, adding his name in practiced calligraphy, before offering it. "Is this what you wanted?"

The satyr took it, holding it up in front of him as he looked between Raphael in the flesh, and on paper. "It's not, but thank you!"

Flattering. He had his first fan. Maybe the satyr would be his first follower on the path to becoming something more powerful; he wanted this to be more than where he fled from hell, solidifying himself as a significant figure in his permanent home. The feywild native probably knew more about becoming an archfey, and the Seelie and Unseelie courts. "I didn't get your name."

The fey lowered the page, beaming up at him — with a new face. His face.

It lacked the frosted lashes and distinct features of the winter prince, still clearly a satyr, but those were his cheekbones, his eyes, nose, mouth…

"You already know it, but…" The thief paused, thinking, as _______ glowered at him. "You can call me Haarlep."

Stolen II

[abyssalaerlocke]

Enver and the Feywild

expanding on the Archfey Raphael AU

The fey definitely take children, so the Flymms could have sold Enver to an Archfey. And how would that look, growing up in a feywild forest under a verdant prince?

There's so many possibilities for what his forest looks like, how much it reflects its lord as a winter prince, what kind of structures/shelter/accommodations might be available for a human ward...

But I'll lean into it being dark, trees towering over them like redwoods. And although you can see sky between the branches, sunlight has a hard time finding a path all the way to the ground unless it's directly overhead — and well, this area seems to be the kind of feywild that's in almost perpetual twilight (at least that's the impression from the ground. It could be something like near the poles, with the sun mostly staying near the horizon, at some points getting higher in the sky, depending on season, feywild nonsense...).

The plants aren't dead or dormant, barren of leaves or life, but the lack of warm sunlight lends to dull and cool and dark tones. They grow enough foragable food regardless of sunlight because Raphael makes them.

Enver's first accommodations when he arrives is just an alcove in the hollowed out base of a tree. He has to curl up in the dirt and moss — at least the bugs seem to steer clear of this tree. If he's lucky there are some bushes or curtain of moss hanging over the opening for privacy. Many of the creatures, including the verdant prince himself, like to hang out above him in the branches, eyes glowing ominously down at him in the dark.

Maybe he does eventually find some nicer homes. Candle lit burrows that are warm and inviting and charmingly furnished. He digs out the dirt in his alcove for more space and height.

They aren't allowed to cut down trees, but the weather reflects the lord's mood, and Raphael's stormy anger brings down a boon of dead branches — terrifying to have huge branches crashing down, and littering the ground (why most make their homes like underground bunkers 😅). But it's like a harvest after, a flurry of cheery activity as people use it for furniture and doors and such. Enver furnishes his room over the years, nothing lavish, but it's his.

He fits in his friends' burrows less as he grows up. Longer limbs and practice do lend to climbing the trees, though. Raphael probably has a home in the 'sky' — situated high in the branches where the sunlight reaches with it's warm tones, the trees weaving their branches together to naturally form a floor.

I normally see artificer Gortash as a reflection of Raphael who makes his own enchanted artifacts — maybe chose him for that potential, trained him... The feywild and verdant princes themselves lean more into druidry, though.

I'd still see Enver as some kind of artificer, but with druidic flavouring. (I actually have an OC like this, but they're an armorer, and the Steel Watch makes Gortash more battle smith).

Wood Watch, The Pack, The Herd? I could see them as a variety of animals, made from living bark. Mice and cats for infiltrating and spying, wolves and the occasional bear patrolling the streets, a herd of elephants defending the walls of the city from the Absolute. Who wouldn't trust a man bringing some nature into the city, and protecting you with a herd of strong and intelligent animals?

(this flavour of Gortash also lends itself well to durge!Isobel, which, wondering if I could combine these worlds is what got me thinking about Enver growing up in the feywild. The softer, nature and animal loving Gortash that's more trustworthy and benevolent seeming, wolves and Selûne. I think Isobel would feel at home with that, especially given the lack of nature and appreciation for it living in the city the last 100 years)

The biggest impact, though, is

How does this affect Karlach?

Do we get a Karlach who was sold to a fey to do whatever their bidding is, and has been living and surviving in the feywild? Is there any body modification in that? Or did she lose something else, like her name, some other part of her identity, history/memories (did her friends/family forget her existence?)... Is her condition and looming doom because she violated a magically bound fey contract, and they either find a way to break it, or she'll die if she doesn't return to the feywild where she's supposed to be?

Or does Gortash not using infernal engines for his Watch mean he has no reason to sell her, and Karlach has stayed at his side? 😯

What about Wyll? Whether his patron sent him after her or not, does he have a fey patron, and experience in the feywild instead of Hell?

Some final things about leaving the feywild:

I don't know if Enver would be as desperate to leave in this setting, it's possible he accidentally stumbled through a fey crossing and just found himself back on the Sword Coast.

When you leave the feywild, there may be time distortion — from only seconds having passed per day you spent there, to years per day.

How does that affect the timelines of Gortash, Karlach, and Wyll? Have they suddenly aged and gained experience since their families recently saw them? Or is everyone they knew dead?

If ten years have passed in the material, how much longer was it in the feywild for Karlach? Or did Gortash only recently put her there, because as the Absolute plot ramped up, she finally objected — but Karlach comes back shortly after with the grudge formed from a decade of exile and servitude?

[abyssalaerlocke]

A plot is forming for Aquafey 😈

Starts with the (aquafied) bg3 plot as a background thread to Raphael/Tav's relationship developing/revealing, then something happens that causes a major detour in their goals — new, original plot. Has the makings of an ending that ties them together in a cool way.

Could use a brainstormer; right now, specifically about a detail of Archfey Raph/Tav's contract

Spoilers below the cut:

As a baseline, verdant prince Raphael made an Oathbond like this with Tav in a past life.

If a party breaks the oath, the other party becomes aware and can locate them when they're on the same plane. This is how Raphael has been able to identify and locate Tav through their many incarnations.

However, I want Raphael to get trapped by the fey court or something, and once he becomes aware Tav is in the feywild, breaks his side of the oath so they can find him.

Problems:

The mouse body he anthropomorphised was many incarnations ago, so probably not something he can undo. I think there needs to be an additional requirement of him in the contract that he can still renege on.

He's either being made incapable of or unwilling to escape — including through plane shift or dying and respawning in hell (he may just not want to mess with his adversaries, or otherwise wants Tav to come to him without reaching out or coming to them). This potentially limits what he can do to break his oath. Maybe telling someone something that violates their oathbound relationship?

[abyssalaerlocke]

Aquafey

Masterlist

Stolen IV

Unlike normal verdant princes, Raphael did not have the cold and rigid likeness of winter because of what time of year he was born.

He was like that because his birthplace of Cania was a deathly, frozen wasteland.

Always.

Even in the heated halls of Mephistar, it was impossible to escape the fact they were inside the carved and melted ice of a glacier, and Haarlep's exposure to the outside had been cutting and breath stealing.

Normally, a verdant prince might be born in winter, and mature during spring — growing up in a lively and bountiful environment. Haarlep didn't even know if Raphael had sprouted up at the rapid pace of his kind, without the turning of the seasons — or if he'd slogged along here through years of Name calling as an outsider, before fleeing to the feywild for his first breath of something other than unforgiving coldness.

Haarlep sat up at the puff of frost, a lingering tingle of the feywild carried with it like a scent. Raphael lay gasping on the floor, clutching his chest.

As he calmed down, catching his breath, his eyes blinked open to see Haarlep peering down at him from the side of the bed. "Oh, hells…"

"What happened?"

Raphael growled, face screwing up in a sneer as he pulled himself up. "That bitch killed me."

Haarlep looked him over, but apart from some damage to his clothes, he didn't seem to have any injuries.

The verdant prince crossed the room, opening the wardrobe and pulling out some fresh clothes before getting changed. He whirled on the door as it opened, the guard poking his head in. "Get out of my room!"

The guard ducked as Raphael threw the nearest object at him. "You're back?"

"Out! Before I take your eyes out for peeping," he threatened coldly, a blade of ice hovering above his hand.

The guard immediately dropped his gaze, backing out and shutting the door behind him. Raphael waved the knife at it dismissively, sinking into the door before shattering into a large puff of sparkling shards with the sounds of breaking glass.

"They said you couldn't come here yet because of the time distortions."

"What time distortions?" he asked, smoothing down his outfit.

"When you leave the feywild, generally more, or less time will have passed in your destination — maybe years, maybe seconds. It wouldn't normally affect a native like me who'd never arrived in the feywild. It would you… and I suppose me, now, once I go back," he pondered.

"You mean I could have come back and it would be like I never left?" His brows furrowed unhappily.

"In a sense… You'd still know. They might notice you disappear briefly."

"No one saw, I did it in here."

"The question is how you came back now. On one end, you'd show up close to when you left, on the other, long after…" Haarlep considered maybe Raphael had long since abandoned him, and this was a shorter time — gone for years, back in months. "How long have I been gone?"

"A day?"

"Same here…"

"And there's not a point in that spectrum where time is the same?" Raphael asked.

"There is, that's why they tried to bring you back when they did — but that's not supposed to happen again for months."

"Then… death must bypass the 'leaving'."

Haarlep's brows curled in confusion.

"I didn't know it applied to me, but devils return to their last place in hell when they 'die' outside of it. Whether I like it or not, it seems this is my home plane," he sneered.

Haarlep processed, a mischievous smile creeping onto his face. That made the feywild a very safe place for the verdant prince to live. If the archfey ever turned on him, they wouldn't know what hit them, when their 'solved problem' came back from the dead.

"You're up to something," Raphael said, scrutinising him suspiciously.

"Nothing to worry about," he grinned with childish innocence. "Are you ready to leave, now?" "Not yet; if they can just kill me to bring me back any time, my father will never stop. I have to address his issue before I can leave in peace."

Stolen V

[abyssalaerlocke]

Aquafey

Masterlist

Stolen II

Raphael was a strange fey. Anyone else upon realising their True Name had been taken would either try to get it back, or at least get a new one.

Despite Haarlep explaining this, Raphael decided he was fine having no True Name. He did take on an alias, as advised.

It was Raphael.

True, the alias didn't hold the power of his True Name — only Haarlep held the claim to that, his power over the verdant prince the last thing that tied him to it. Other than that, it was Haarlep's, now.

Raphael seemed… more or less satisfied with the new arrangement, keeping the satyr-shaped con close, while enjoying the unusual pros.

Haarlep… was starting to have regrets.

His veins burned with intangible fire, and he clung to the icy prince for the semblance of relief.

It didn't do much, but trying to embrace the ambiguity of hot and cold, and basking in it like it was just a pleasantly icy roll in the snow calmed his sobs and writhing to whimpers and snuffles.

Raphael was impassive, holding him through his 'karma' — whatever that Infernal meant — while reading the books Haarlep had suggested before his life became consumed by pain.

They both stiffened at the strange rush of sound below, a smell of burning reaching their nostrils.

"Raphael?" a woman called up, and the verdant prince looked down, sighing, setting his book down, before holding Haarlep snugly in his vines.

"Friend of yours?" Haarlep asked tiredly as Raphael descended from their high perch together.

"Doubtful."

The fiend looked between them, face screwing up as she seemed to parse their shared features one by one. "Who the hell is this?"

Raphael looked at him, face brightening with considered glee. "Raphael," he answered, a twinge tugging on Haarlep's core as the woman scoffed.

"Sure he is. Not exactly how your father described you."

Raphael shrugged. "I'm not lying."

She seemed to consider for a moment, before huffing. "Well, regardless of sharing a name — or… more," she commented, looking over Haarlep again, "I'm calling on your contract; your father wants to see you."

And with a snap of her fingers, Haarlep was no longer in Raphael's embrace, stumbling on his hooves, before slipping and falling on ice.

Stolen III

[abyssalaerlocke]

"Copper for your thoughts?"

You sigh, explaining what's on your mind.

The person slides over a copper, thanks you, and your head feels empty, whatever you were just thinking about gone

[abyssalaerlocke]

Aquafey

Masterlist

Stolen III

"Who is this?" a loud voice rumbled, echoing through the cavernous room as Haarlep looked around frantically, bottom aching tenderly from his fall.

"I-" The woman looked down at him with confusion, frantically spinning around searching, before turning back toward the voice. "I brought Raphael, my lord. I swear I did!"

Haarlep turned, finally taking in the hooved devil, seated on his throne. Apart from the sharp cold of the ice he was touching, the icy hollow was surprisingly warm, wisps of steam hanging like a thin fog. He carefully staggered to his feet, looking around for Raphael, but there was no trace of him — or the fire in Haarlep's veins.

"I told you to bring my son. This is…" His brows furrowed as he peered at the satyr through the steam.

"Your son said his name is Raphael," the woman supplied. "That's why I used the contract to bring him here — so there wouldn't be any confusion."

There was that pull again. Haarlep couldn't imagine what it was like for Raphael growing up here, everyone pulling and pressing on your True Name left and right. No wonder the fey wanted nothing to do with it. "You can call me Haarlep," he spoke up, "...my lord."

"You've lost your opportunity," Mephistopheles growled, turning his burning eyes back on the smaller fiend. "The time dilation won't settle again for months."

Which meant Raphael couldn't come for him anytime soon without slipping years into the future or something — and the naive dumbass just might, not realising the perils of leaving the feywild.

Well, assuming he would come at all was pretty generous… The fact Haarlep held his True Name, and could misuse his face might be the only motivation.

"I'll bring him back."

Stolen IV