#ephraal

"Haarlep."

He spat like the name itself was a profanity burning his tongue.

How was he supposed to compete against an incubus for Raphael attention? He could be anything Raphael wanted, like a copy of himself.

Random asks || always accepting

If the little tiefling thought that their rattling tail would frighten him, they were sorely mistaken. Haarlep's expression only played sweet and utterly innocent (cruel).

"Pet," the incubus responded, all tease in their tone. His own tail flicked idly against the bed. His bed. The best that him and Raphael fucked in when the devil needed to feel loved and tormented alike. Did that bruise Ephraal's ego? Haarlep hoped it did. But why fight when the two of them could fuck? Such wasted energy and potential when making love was sooo much more exciting and fulfilling.

A little pout crossed Haarlep's face as he patted his claws against the bed. "Oh, darling... don't give me that look. You look terribly dreadful with that little scowl. Turn that frown upside down, and enjoy the eternal pleasures I could give you, hm?" He chuckled wickedly, talons drawing across silk.

- Ephraal

✨ I'm in love with this artwork ✨

- Ephraal, on accident again (he hasn't moved after meeting Haarlep there because he is seeting)

send me   ‘ mistletoe ’   for my muse’s response to being underneath mistletoe with your muse.   specify whether it’s accidental or on purpose.

(ROFL)

The tiefling had to have been standing there for hours, waiting for Raphael's return to his House of Hope. Clients were scurrying around this time of year, and a devil had to remind them of their contract, of the clauses, and perhaps even a time limit. The bustle did not put Raphael in a good mood, he did not like chaos, and he did not like disorder. Mortals all lost sense and braincells around this time of year, and efficiency did not exist.

Infuriating!

Within his house, it was controlled, and under his command. Instantly, the tenseness in his shoulders loosened when he was within the comforts of his floating mansion of Avernus. The statues that cast their eyes on him--his own eyes--brought him a sense of pleasure, as did the portraits that hung upon the walls.

However, when he turned to enter the next hallway, he was abruptly stopped, his hand having been loosening his collar to expose part of his throat.

He was about to speak the debtor's name, when he realised what was above him. Ah... Such a pet, to stand there and await his kiss. A kiss that he would never quite be worthy of.

Raphael's top lip curled into a smirk. "How quaint," he commented with a small chuckle. "Tell me, servant, how long you have been waiting so patiently for me. Does your loyalty stiffen your muscles, making your bones ache?" From standing there so long, of course.

"How it would all be worth it, to feel the warmth of my skin upon yours." He moved in, just a little closer, so Ephraal could smell his perfumes, and his skin beneath it, but never touched him. Just out of reach.

Random asks || always accepting

Raphael was meticulous when it came to everything. A catalogue, a stock sheet, knowing where every belonging was, and if it was not literally documented on paper somewhere, then it was within the vault of the devil's mind.

The boudoir was not just home to Raphael, but his pet incubus as well. Haarlep could have been to blame for the sudden soap thievery, but stealing soap wasn't exactly the incubus' style. Haarlep would rather spend hours dolling himself up and making himself feel beautiful, the scent of rich suds covering every inch of his skin, just so Raphael could lick them off.

No... the sudden lack of soap had started when a certain little debtor had begun serving him. A devil was not blind, and Raphael's nose was particularly acute when it came to his belongings.

"So enthralled with me, pet, that you must pocket my unmentionables. Does it bring you joy to know that my skin lingers upon that bar of soap? A little piece of me, carried like a guilty pleasure," he teased, eyes halving with his smirk.

"Do not allow the guilt to fester for your admiration, it is only natural that you cannot take your eyes from me." The devil was so self absorbed.

There was no longing to be seen or recognized in the adoration burning is his eyes as he was standing there - even though he'd love that, of course. No. Just a genuine question; "Did I make you happy. Can I make you even happier?"

He required nothing in return, as he had made his own happiness entirely dependant on Raphael's.

"How do you wish to dispose of me now, Master?"

Good little mice || always accepting

Such a good little mouse, Ephraal was. Always bowing. Always calling him 'Master'. Always on their hands and knees, figuratively and literally, for him. A good servant, Ephraal was. But that was all they would ever be. Warlock's would gain their patron's boons, and hellfire was always a wonderful weapon, but all the hellfire in the world could not give someone natural passion and spark.

Unlike his father, Raphael knew what mortals liked: praise. So he would give it when it was due, when Raphael knew it would work, when Raphael knew that it was being begged for, so a pup would continue to heel.

"Your efforts are always noted, Ephraal," he commented with a soft undertone, a pleased look in his glowing eyes. He reached out, where he traced a claw against the tiefling's jaw.

"Such a good little mouse, hm?" His hand withdrew, just enough to let Ephraal feel the heat from his skin, enough for him to want more of him. "Tell me, Ephraal, what you desire. I would hear it, I would watch it fall from your lips. Let it cascade upon my skin."

- Ephraal