#raphael oneshot

“Haarlep.”

That stern, musical voice cuts like a knife through the washing pleasure she had been so lost in. Ice jolts down her spine and suddenly it feels like someone has turned on the lights. The body over her freezes much the same, buried to the hilt as she clenches down on him, muscles going taut.

She sees the spark of surprise and fear mould the face hanging over her. She guesses that though she worries for her general well-being and survival in the upcoming moments, Haarlep was no doubt reeling at the thought of being put on the naughty step. Nobody ever let him have any fun in this house. The little mouse had been so easy to catch. So desperate to see the eyes he wore look at her the ways that he had. ‘The master is away. He’ll be gone for so long. Aren’t you lonely, little mouse? He’s lonely too and he’s wanted you for so long. Please give yourself to him.’ He’d promised that it would be their little secret and she’d all but melted before him, climbing across the satin, trembling.

“What little pest has managed to crawl out of my walls and find its way into my boudoir?”

Haarlep had promised that he’d let her go long before Raphael was due to return. “don’t worry” he’d said, “give me your trust. You’re perfectly safe with me.” Gods, she was going to haunt him. What a little shit. She did know, however, that he is clearly as caught off guard as she is.

The sounds of Raphael’s polished shoes clack across the tiles near the entrance.

The timbre changes as he reaches the oak flooring and she feels like she could faint, like her mind is floating above her and watching the scene from some detached place. A sigh.

“My fine cormyrean sheets, Haarlep!” He sounds appalled. “Do you know how much they cost, you animal?”

The little demon spawn stays in place, back facing him but tail flicking in obvious unease.

“Thousands. I won’t bore you with exact figures, harlot, as you’ve never been particularly apt in finances…or general intellectual engagement. So, let me ask you again, what little pest have you caught and defiled now? Gods they’re absolutely saturated. You’ve torn them too!”

She could feel her breathing quicken as his rage seems to rapidly increase.

“Hup, hup, Haarlep. Go sulk in the corner. I’m sure you’ll just drown in remorse while I clean up this mess. I’ve had a busy day, you know, and now I have to throw away your leftovers and order new sheets, too. Can a man not relax in his own forsaken house? Is it too much to ask for?”

The is tap, tap, tapping his foot on the ground is motivated, no doubt, by the unavoidable headache that he’d be forced to soothe with a glass of vintage later.

Haarlep begins to lean backwards, his eyes glued to hers. He was curious, excited to see what she was going to do but she could see that he was also silently pleading with her to act very carefully, for both of their sakes. She feels herself flush in humiliation as she loses the physical and psychological shield of Haarlep between them and as much as she desperately wants to curl into a ball and hide, her limbs remain frozen in place, her body completely detached from her thought and command. This was more than she could handle.

The incubus detaches from her and the air catches in her throat as he pulls out completely from her clenching hole, swollen lips left empty and drooling. Another breath catches in the air, but it’s not her own. She wishes she could sink into the sheets and disappear. Part of her is half tempted to just roll off of the bed then under the frame, never to come out again. Nevertheless, she still does not move. Her eyes glue themselves to a small crack in the ceiling above her and her face is slack in shock. Her hair is wild and splayed around her, her legs spread from accommodating their recent guest, her dumb and vacant face flushed a scandalous shade of crimson.

From her peripheral, Haarlep tries to scamper off, tail between his legs, but he’s stopped by his master raising one hand at him, eyes still glued to the little mouse on his bed.

His other hand snatches towards her, latching to her chin and he glowers down his nose at her in his own shock. She refuses to shift her gaze, focussing hard in every detail of the splintered paint above. He jerks her head left and her vision spins then fills with the detailed threading on the edges of his doublet and the hatched material of his trouser legs. He jerks to the right and her visions swims again, filling with stained glass and hazy walls as her other cheek meets the bed. He stands over her like this for some time and she is thankful to be facing the opposite wall as her eyes well in fear. She’s unsure what he plans to do as he continues to ponder her, simmering.

“Haarlep.” She can hear the effort behind the barely collected tone.

“Please, tell me that I’m mistaken. Please, tell me that you didn’t actually suck the soul right out of my most valuable investment. Please,” his voice cracks slightly, “tell me you didn’t just ruin everything everything I had worked so hard for.”

“Master-“

Before the incubus can interject again, Raphael’s claws seize him and suddenly he’s careening. He’s marched blindly backwards under the cambion’s grip, as the rant continues.

“You had one job, not to get meddle. Not to ruin this one thing. I swear I shall send you back into the rotten abyss you crawled out of.”

Haarlep’s legs meet the balcony ledge and he stumbles and plummets over the edge with a yelp. Raphael does not wait to watch his descent and turns back into the room. Stopping again at the edge of the bed.

He stills and heaves a deep sigh, fingers coming to pinch at his brow. He looks again at the mindless doll, all to familiar I shape, on the bed. Her potential was supposed to be so much greater than this. She was the one who would bring him his crown. She could have been his chosen, but there was nothing left. Nothing but her prone form still draped open in mocking invite. He tries to ignore the ache. Tries not to imagine that the invite was for him, that she would have lay so sweet for his craven self.

She knows she should say, do, anything. She screams inside to just start apologising and take the consequences, because there is no avoiding the inevitable but after watching the fate of the incubus, she feels her voice disappear back down her throat and her limbs cement themselves to the silk below. He thinks her to be but a lifeless husk and that was about the only role she felt capable of playing in this moment. He approaches her again and she feels another wave of adrenaline wash over her as he stares down at her, this time his face seems almost defeated. Glum. His eyes search over her. He looks into her eyes. They’re glassy and fixed. They look scared. He doesn’t know what it is that washes over him at the image of her terrified and trapped under the copy of his form as her soul is leeched from her, but he knows that he doesn’t like it. Her cheeks remain rosy, a lurking evidence of her undoing. Her lips are parted in a little gasp. What noises had left them in this very room? Her face looked shocked and horrified, tinged with shame and the remnants of her recent euphoria. Her death mask. From her lips left quick puffs of air but the life that remained in her shell held no more value. His little mouse wasn’t in there anymore. Not in any way that mattered, or so he believes.

With another dramatic sigh, he sags to sit on the edge of the bed, back facing to her. He leans his arms into his knees and considers how to salvage this wagon crash. He could not afford to wallow in childish fantasies and feelings. They never did him any good. She had disappointed him, immensely. He knows not of why she’d come skittering to his house but she’d found her end here none the less. His house was not built to cater to her meek nature. It was done now. He can not stop thinking, however, about what had led her to sneak behind his back and play with his toys. He couldn’t stop that nagging voice in his head reminding him that regardless of her reason to poke around, she’d been distracted by the fiend wearing his visage. She’d been lured in by the promise of laying under him. She was so willing to give herself, and she’d done so with such reckless abandon that she’d let a lowly fool like Haarlep steal her soul. She’d come into his sanctuary and used him without permission. Was she really so desperate? Did she share his hunger?

A wicked thought crosses his mind. He would dispose of her, as was the right thing to do, for it brought him no honour to keep her this way. It was sacrilege. She was, however, right here. She was gone by all means, but her body was still warm and willing. There was nothing to stop him using the carcass of her form as she had used his. It was harmless. Nobody would ever even have to know. She’d be his little secret and then he’d finally rid himself of her once and for all. Rid himself of the hold she had on him.

The screaming in her head falls silent in horror as she feels the bed dip and weight of him straddle her hips. He kneels over her, eyes flicking around, trying not to meet hers. He feels like she is watching him from inside herself. It is almost like she is still there and it makes him feel an uncomfortable twinge of vulnerability.

He brings one claw up to her mouth, pressing it over the curve of her lips and lets it push past, pressing against the ridges of her teeth. He pulls her mouth open, slackening her jaw down as far as he could until it resists, then eases his clawed finger back inside. The tip of certain scratches along the walls of her mouth, over her tongue, and her eyes bulge as it dips down and slips into her throat. She knows that she should stop it right bloody now before it goes even further but a coward she certainly is and she can’t even perceive facing his wrath right now. Her mind continues to feel locked behind the safeguarding of shock and fear, not able to pilot her body to do anything helpful. Her hands twitch at her sides but it escapes his rapt attention in testing her mouth. His face twitches slightly as her throat contacts slightly around his appendage and she realises he is palming himself, his knuckles occasionally bumping her stomach as he works his freed cock.

He plays around with her like this until his fingers come back soaked and stringing with her saliva as it pools - there’s a lump in her throat and she can’t seem swallow.

He clambers up the bed, hanging over her to grasp the headboard, and the intricate detailing of his doubled fills her vision again. She sees him staring down at her from above her point of focus. She tries think about anything other than his face. She swears she must be dreaming, losing her grip on sanity, as her she feels something heavy and hot press it’s weight onto her tongue. He presses the crimson, tapered tip of his cock into her mouth, feeling the wet cavern widen even further to allow him to slide inside. He hears her breathing change as she sucks air through her nostrils and he hears her heart thrum rapid like a rabbits. He supposed there had to be a little life left in someone with such a fate to make them enjoyable, and enjoy you he will. He releases his breath in audible groan as your sloppy, drooling mouth encases him.

Moving his hands to either side of her face, he cradled her skull and began to pump his hips, the muscles of his thighs jerking and jumping with each jolt of pleasure. He lets her gurgle around him at his lazy pace. He is in no rush. He at least deserved some kind of consolation, did he not? Tears crave tracks down her cheeks as he continuously plugs her throat, his cock pulsing in warning.

All at once he is gone from her and she next feels her awareness creep back to her as his hands take hold of her, behind her knees, and her legs are pushed towards her shoulders to expose her fully to his gaze. She hears his ragged breathing as he takes her in. The bud of pink blooming between the soft fat rolls of her labia. He uses his thumbs to part the puffy lips and his cock jumps in anticipation. He drinks her in. A flush, swollen nub perched between a tiny, fluttering pink hole. She is still leaking from her previous partner. The sloppy puddle below her still blooms a dark hue on his sheets. He knows if he doesn’t take her now, he’ll talk himself out of it.

With one thrust, he asserts control of his racing thoughts and sinks to the hilt inside of her, feeling his cock bump and press up against the resistance of her womb. Any thoughts plaguing him are gone as his mind draws blank from the blinding pleasure. The numbing release of finally laying claim to her. He hears her hiccup a wail that fades into a mindless keen and her hands ball into the sheets. She feels like her soul really did just leave her body.

He almost finds himself thanking the gods in that moment, hearing the sweet noises she made. At least her body could still give him that. At least she, like Haarlep, could tell him oleander lies while he buries himself inside of her.

He chokes a moan, sucking in breath and releases it in a hissed growl as he draws his hips back, feeling every twitch of her cunt as he slides against the grip of slick walls. He drives forward again, forcing them both further up the bed. A hand at her leg yanks her back down before she can catch her bearings and he pulls her into him , connecting them again as deeply as he can get. She feels like she’s falling - dying maybe. The conscience and guilt that told her to do good and smart things were long gone, lost some time after he’d speared into her with reckless abandon. Any sense was gone. A new voice was seeping through the hormonal concoction she was swimming in. It told her that this was all that mattered. In this moment she was his and it felt better than she’d ever dreamed, when alone at night with her imagination. She can’t stop the rhythmic song of pleasure he pulls from her, the room full with her whines and cries joining his.

Haarlep, for as devastatingly good as he’d been, could not match the ferocity and intensity that fuelled the fiend above her now. His face was twisted in a snarl, his own mouth hanging slack and his eyes locked to the sight of himself splitting her apart. His moans and gasps begin to lower as his hips stutter in their pace. He buries his face into her neck, hips continuing to rock. He inhales deeply, drinking in her scent.

“You silly mouse.” His voice is strained. He sounds close. Underneath it though, she recognises that somber tone.

“I was so close to having you. You were supposed to be mine. I could have given you the world. I would have given you everything.”

He groans as his hips jerk again, his cock pressing something deep inside. It’s all to much and the bubble finally popped. She shudders under him with a wail as white heat floods her senses. He loses it at her sound and the clenching of her strangling at his length. He collapses onto his forearms at either side of her, letting her quivering pussy milk his seed from him.

“I can find another champion, but you, you had been special. I wanted it to be your hands that passed me the crown. I wanted it to be you I shared it all with.” He stays buried inside of as he softens. His voice is a whisper, as if telling a great secret to the empty room. His hand is petting through her hair absently.

She doesn’t know how long he remains, body pressed to hers. The adrenaline is wearing off and she feels like her spirit is slipping back into her aching, exhausted form. She wasn’t prepared to face any of it. She didn’t think she ever would be. How could she even begin to process current events. How the hells would she explain any of this to anyone, least of all him? The concoction of shame and humiliation began to take hold of her again and she starts to plan, fast. He would never forgive her for this. He’d hate her. Why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t she stopped it? She knew the real answer. She hadn’t wanted it to stop, really. She’d take being bounced on his cock over the eternity of suffering he was bound to expose her to as soon as the curtain came up. She just wanted to stay like this forever. Maybe time would stand still, or maybe, she’d simply die from a random heart attack from all of this absurdity and stress. Yes, she decided all at once, she’ll just stay here like this. forever. She finds momentary comfort in her delusions, painting herself a happy future where she never faces the music and gets to stay under him like this, hearing his sweet words and bringing him pleasure for the rest of time. She would be his new toy. He’d treat her so well. It would all be so very nice.

The image is ripped from her as a voice she recognises all to well chimes from near the pool.

“Fear not, master. I have returned unharmed. I wish you’d stop doing that all the time, you know I have wings-“ his voice cuts to an scandalised gasp. “Oh my, and back just in time to play, too!” She can feel Raphael’s tail swish in agitation, but he doesn’t have the energy left to channel his rage. “What an interesting turn of events, I must say! I did so hope that you both would work it out peacefully.” The cambion above her hisses as the bed dips with Haarlep’s weight, he sheepishly prowls the edges of the bed, testing the waters with his grumpy master.

Gods, it’s actually Haarlep! She fills with relief that he’s alive.

“See I knew you’d calm right down once you realised that I didn’t touch your mouse’s precious soul. I played so nicely with her. See, aren’t we all glad it was just a big, innocent misunderstanding?” His tail is wagging happily on the air.

She’s is going to kill him. That little shit. She is going to down him in the pool and throw him back over the balcony rails herself.

“Let me join, master, please! I’ll be so quiet that you won’t even notice me there. Think how good it’ll feel to bury yourself in two of those little holes at the same time!”

She doesn’t dare move, not even brave enough to take a breath as the body above hers stiffens then jerks backwards. Her eyes stay on the ceiling. Stay still. Stay still. Stay still. It’s deafeningly silent.

His voice hisses through the air, threatening and full of disbelief.

“Little mouse?”

Well. Fuck.

The nightmares weren't going easy on you today either, even though you feel like you could pass out from the exhaustion in your bones.

Arrived at the river, you strip down your sleep wear and pin your hair up. Slowly, you dip your toes into the cold water, and it immediately gives you goosebumps.

But nonetheless, you grit your teeth and sit down in the water, admiring the full moon as you tilt your head back. Hugging your knees to your chest, hoping it'll warm you up a little.

You look so peaceful and truly beautiful under the shining moon as you are oblivious to the campion hiding between the woods across from you.

He only wanted to catch up with korilla about your adventures when he caught you sneaking out of your tent. Curious as he is, he stopped to see where you're headed to.

And right now he finds himself seated on a rock and admiring your shivering form and relaxed expression. The next thing he knew, you put your face in your hands and started weeping loudly. And the sounds break something inside his chest.

Oh, how much he'd like to comfort you and hold you, cradle you, tell you that he'll take care of the tadpole, the elder brain, and everything else that worries your pretty head.

But he needs you to do your part in his perfect plan so that he can gain the power to conquer the hells and then to make you his.

He knows that if he shows special interest, one behind a contract, that will make you more a target than you already are.

He understands how you're feeling, you're under constant stress and pressure you don't know whom you can trust, always looking behind your shoulder in fear for an ambush.

Poor mouse, he thinks, you're only a mortal after all.

Your weeping is unbearable, so the only thing he can do is at least warm the river for you so that you don't catch a cold.

And in wonder, you lift your face as you feel the water getting warmer and your nose catch a familiar scent of cherries and sulfur.

Thankfully, it did calm your nerves even if it was a little, the warmth soothing your aching muscles, allowing you to stretch your lags and lay back and close your puffy eyes.

The scent is too familiar, and you know who is near, but you're too tired to deal with him now, and weirdly, you feel protected with him near.

It's no secret that he keeps Korilla near you to keep track of you. But knowing that he's there watching you makes you forget the threat of being ambushed or attacked in this vulnerable moment.

She couldn’t breathe. She was sinking. Perhaps she was willing to let go then. God above, everything ached. Memories fleeted at the edges of her mind. The Hammer. Hope. Raphael. Was this death? It was actually kind of peaceful. She was so close to Him now, so close to His sweet salvation. She felt number than she had a moment ago. Was this His mercy? Was it His hand reaching for her from above?

Something snatched her hair and the momentary peace is shattered as she was wrenched, spluttering above the surface.

“YOU RAT!”

She was a room, wet and shivering. In a pool? Raphael’s pool. In his house. She was there. And that’s where he was too. Tav had seen anger in many forms, seen the rage of many men at their end, but this…This was ineffable. His face was twisted past what she imagined it could be. He stood waist deep in the water, panting and seething and whatever he roared next was muffled as he plunged her back below the surface, hard. She would have been unconscious after her head clattered against the tiling, if it weren’t for the constant, cool healing seeping into the pores of her skin. After what felt like an eternity, he wrenched her up again. Her nose was twisted at an angle and she had a few less teeth than she should have. She barely had time to gasp a breath before he sent her under.

She didn’t know how long he kept at it. He’d set a furious pace, slamming her head under and out of the water again and again. Between the furious splashing and her own choking and gasping she could hear that he was hadn’t stopped his passionate sermon.

Up.

“HOW DARE-“

Under.

Up.

“AFTER EVERYTH-“

Under.

Up.

“WISH TOU WERE DEA-“

Under.

Up.

“DEGENERATE REPROBA-“

Under.

Up.

“YOUR PURGATORY-“

Under.

Up.

“FOREVERMORE-“

Under.

The thought that this was how she would go - lungs bursting, and the inertia oh his movements she tipped her into insanity and she emptied her stomach of its bile. The hand left her head and she pushed off of the bottom of the pool and surged for the lip, scrambling onto the marble. She rolled into her back, panting and delirious. Maybe if she ran for the balcony she could end it quickly. She would take the grace of purgatory, anything but this. She steeled herself, ready to take this one last shot at mercy and snapped her eyes open only to shriek in horror.

Raphael’s face was but an inch from hers, wearing an insidious, by playful, smile. It was sinister and the sudden 180 had her head spinning.She wished she could have sunk down and be swallowed by the floor helping to trap her.

“Oh. hello again, little mouse.” The purring cadence let her answer her first question. “It seems you’ve been all but caught in a pair of very big bad claws. How very sad.” He could at least pretend to look sincere, tail wagging with excitement and beady eyes glowing with mischief in the dark. “You have managed to make the master unusually…irate. I think now would be a good time to remind you that I made you such a generous offer before. One, I believe, you may soon regret declining. Was it worth it, mouse? Was your faith worth all that pleasure you denied yourself? Wounded yourself with? I could smell your suffering.” But if this was Haarlep, there’s where was…

She shrieked again as Haarlep was yanked away and her view was replaced by Raphael’s dark visage. The shadows and wrinkles cast his face demonically in the soft glow. He’d stripped off his soggy clothes and she could see every muscle in his body was pulled taught and quivering, like a tight strung bow - he was ready to snap. He tackled her as she lunged to the open fluttering curtains and threw himself on top, shuffling his knees until all she could see was him. A clawed hard snatched for her face, gouging deep into her cheek as she threw her head wildly to either side, braying in terror. He wrestled her with ease and pried her jaw open so wide that her bones creaked in protest.

“I’m warning you right now, you vile beast. If you bite me, I’ll remove your remaining teeth one by one.” All at once her mouth was filled with his fat member, the shock of it almost flipping her tongue backwards. Even soft, it filled her throat and blocked off her air. Little ridges and texturing scraped at her mouth as he forced it into her gasping mouth.

He let out a puff as he began to harden.

“You know what you are, Tav?” She doesn’t. She doesn’t know anything.

“You are a Judas.”

She gagged as his cock kept growing inside of her. She really did regret it. Every movement from the incubus would have been designed to bring her pleasure and disarm any uncertainty, filling her with the sweet lies of love and worship. This was not that. This was penance. He was going to make this as unpleasant as he could, she knew it. Her throat burned raw as he thrust deep and methodical into her, his cock slippery with the drooling blood that filled her mouth and puddled the floor.

“A Brutus.”

Her eyes blinked back to the balcony and she shuddered prone as she met glowing cat irises in the dark, to her side. Haarlep was bent to the floor, ass up and tail flickering. He looked agitated.

“Master, can I come play too?” His whining was ignored by the fiend. “Master, please? I helped you catch this one.” Raphael sneered even deeper and pinched fingers over her nostrils, causing her to thrash like a fish under his weight as he bottomed out in her wrenched, vile mouth. “If I can’t join can I at least hold her for you, master? I’m hungry.” The cambion hissed and took a moment to collect himself, less even more of his toys end up broken tonight.

“Harlot. If I hear one more sound from you before this night is through, I swear I will personally drag you down to the deepest layers of the Abyss and shove you back under whatever cursed rock you sprouted legs and crawled up from under. Am I making myself perfectly clear.” By the time his focus returned to the cretin, she had turned blue, eyes streaming and snot smeared down her chin.

Vile. Disgusting.

He let go of her airway and rose to his feet. A few kicks and he had rolled her back into the crystalline water.

“You, Tav, my dear. You are a little fucking ephialtes.” She’s pulled up and hard against his naked body, as he crouched over her like a predator. “The snake that collapses the empire.” He hissed like a snake into her ear.

“I tried to be so kind. I tried to give you everything but, you, my sweet, are so cruel. A beast of burden who can only reach salvation through a God of the same nature. If my generosity won’t cure you of your moral folly perhaps my cruelty will be more convincing.”

He’s pushed her down to kneel in the water, kneeling with her like a holy man.

“I will cleave your soul from body until I have purified it of your putrid sin. As many times as it takes. I have to forgive you, Tav. I must. By my hand your eyes will see anew. You mind will be reformed. You will come back to me pure. You will step into my kingdom in a state befitting my forgiveness. By my unholy baptism, you will be reborn.”

His cock bobbed in front of her trembling lips and he wrapped his claws around her head and drove his hips forward. She filled her lungs as quickly as she could, but it stuttered in her chest then left in her a shriek as it veered up and sank deep into the socket of her eye. He hissed as the pupil popped and squelched around his tip. The girl stiffened like a cadaver under him, her face hung slack at the mercy of shock. He took advantage of her dissociative compliance and thrust deeper into the resisting flesh, feeling the delicate bone of her socket snap and pop to accommodate him.

With each determined thrust, he carved a sheath for himself into the alien flesh of her brain. The temple that housed her, defiled and smited. His phallus carving away the spoiled meat that festered deep in her liar’s chair. She babbled and slurred incoherently under him, almost like a prayer. When he bludgeoned his way into the bone cradle at the seat of her skull, she jerked once then slackened in his grip. Not slowing his pace, he leaned and dunked her fully into the water, watching it bloom like cherry wine. It rushed to fill the sunken gape, and with each thrust of his hips, more of the water, healing and holy, took hold and grew her anew around him. He cock became sheathed in new flesh, pure and untouched. He ruined that too. He wasn’t done yet. Her lips moved in murmur against his watery thighs, tickling the flesh. He cared not for her gurgling and ranting.

It burned. It seared, then she didn’t felt anything at all - other than cold. She was freezing. She blinked around the room, her one working eye capturing only blurred smears of red and blue and then, all it once it snapped to black. She wasn’t sure is she was howling and keening like a dog or if her ears were just ringing. The dull thud thud thud of her heart was the only thing she could understand in the chaos.

The water bathing her soaked the edges of the incomprehensible agony enough for her to experience it fully. She kept repeating the only words she could find.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

She doesn’t know why or for who. Everything was ringing, and bells, and electricity, and ice and strange grunting animals then nothing. All at once like the rush of a cataclysmic orgasm, everything stops and nothing had ever felt so good. This was her rapture.

He shuddered, grunting as he emptied himself deep into the cavern of her skull. He dropped her into the pool and collapsed back with a mighty splash. He sucked in breaths like he was drowning with her, bobbing face down in that murky drink too. Her curls danced and swam around her, circling her christened skull like a halo. Lumps of her pale heathen flesh bobbed like petals. His sacrament was complete.

“Are you finished? Can I have a turn now? You didn’t even use the good holes.” With a snap of his fingers, the harlot was banished.

He waded through the water towards her, much like he had before. His face, however, was filled this time with nothing but rapt reverence. She would awaken soon and he wanted to be ready.

His queen, most sacred, willing to live and die for her sins - for him. She will live again in his kingdom come. With her holy spirit she will bring life to son, just as she had brought life to father before. Never to stray from his path. His holiest of vessels.

A/N: you did it! Yippee! I honestly can’t apologise enough for this degenerate filth but maybe you’re just as fucked as me if you made it this far lol. I want to write a long fic but thought I’d test my hand at some short snippets of scenes I envision in it. Idk what it is about Raphael that sets my religious trauma snarling and feral.

Almost entirely inspired by the lyrics to Raphael by CocoRosie.

“Raphael you know just how

To take me in the swimming pool

Like a child being baptised.

Beneath the starry skies

Drowning in your watery thighs

Don’t speak I can hear you.