#raphael the devil

"The devil's unwilling dance partner"

.🔥.

Oh boy, this one took time. More time than I usually spend on a drawing. I actually made this in an attempt to get over my fear of drawing villainous characters, and I must say that I really like the result! I wanted to capture an intimidating aura for this one, in a more classical art type of way, that would represent Raphael as a villain in a way that felt in-character. A dance was the obvious choice!

Also, I KNOW I did his horns wrong. Don't come for me😔

Fabrizio Brienza is lowkey the closest a person can be to an irl Raphael.

Despite the abundance of appearances he had received for contracts over so long, Haarlep still valued his individuality. He could easily be distinguished from Raphael by his sweet and seductive manner of speech, even if he wore the same clothes as his master.

At one point, the incubus noticed the awe and affection with which his little devil gazed at his own portrait. He merely shrugged – Raphael's pride was nothing new. Things got worse when Raphael himself, with lofty intentions, pestered him. And what about Haarlep? Receiving gifts and endless amounts of food from the devil… A luxury he deserved.

The drinks they tried that evening were so unusual that he even began to doubt which circle his master had unearthed them from. An unfocused gaze, and then – everything was a blur…

When he came to life again, he could barely move his body in the bed. It felt like only half of his body was moving—one arm, one leg, and just one wing. The other half was numb.

"What the…" He turned his head toward where Raph usually slept and practically nuzzled his ear. His head was too close to his. "Raph…"

Haarlep turned his gaze to the body, which had become practically one with his master's. He screamed loudly and began to thrash about, unsure where to go. His breath caught in his throat, then came suffocating completely, then became so strong that he was suffocating. Because of all this incomprehensible pushing and shoving, even the devil himself woke up.

"Stop freaking out," he clicked his tongue. "Just look at how gorgeous we are now."

While the incubus was unconscious, Raphael performed some magical manipulations and merged their bodies. Now, literally two necks with their heads were sticking out of the body. Haarlep was sobbing uncontrollably. He couldn't remember ever experiencing such stress in his life.

"What is this???" Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he couldn't calm down.

"I decided it was for the best," Raph answered him with absolute calm.

"You decided? Did you forget to ask me?"

"I am your master. I decide what to do with you here," he reminded him tactfully.

Even Mephistopheles wouldn't have come up with such an idea. But it seemed he wouldn't return to him with a report. You couldn't lie in front of Raphael.

"That's much better," Raph continued to finish him off. "You will always be in my form. Literally."

For the first time in his life, Haarlep wanted to kill himself. Raph ignored his hysterics, but he simply couldn't calm down. He woke up in his bed in a cold sweat and immediately touched himself. Raphael wasn't there, he could move his body just fine; a second head hadn't grown.

He felt extremely nauseous after such a dream and barely made it to the pool. His head was spinning, his body ached with weakness. The Incubus sank into the pool to shake off this foul feeling. He felt so lousy, as if he'd been dunked in slop and forced to swallow it to get out.

"Are you okay?" slow footsteps were heard behind him. "For you to get up so early of your own free will..."

"Just a bad dream," Haarlep answered honestly. "I don't want to sleep anymore."

His laugh was nervous and full of pain.

"You overindulged last night. I told you only the devil could drink like that normally."

"I won't drink this anymore," Haarlep nodded slowly, looking at the streaks of water running from the faucets in the pool. The water almost calmed his inner turmoil. "I think I'll sit here for a while, and then I'll go get some more sleep."

Raph merely spread his hands:

"I told you."

"I know, I know…" Haarlep covered his mouth, feeling a renewed wave of nausea. Raph almost felt sorry for him.

He sat down next to him and stroked his hair like his favorite toy or pet.

"Rest as long as you need. Or better yet, drink the potion. It will calm you down and make you feel better. Would you mind telling me what you dreamed about?"

"I don't want to remember it," the incubus answered gloomily. "Don't make me…"

This surprised Raph greatly, but he didn't push it, allowing the toy to come to its senses.

"See you later. I have things to do for now."

A sharp shudder ran through Haarlep's body again at the mere thought of sleep. He needed to get rid of the contract as soon as possible.

___

(That old man scares me.)

When the Master is tired or dissatisfied, her main task is to stir him up and make him feel good by any means necessary. Haarlep was used to listening to Raphael singing, reading his memoirs with the latest version of getting the crown of Karsus, running her eye over and evaluating instantly composed poems so that the devil would feel his importance due to his ambitions and inflated ego, and she would receive pleasant perks for this in the form of new jewelry or something else interesting. The work is easy.

But today he did not even join her for a hookah, but immediately went to the boudoir with a dissatisfied look. Obviously, something had happened. How could she leave him in such a state? Haarlep had to find out what exactly had lowered his mood so much.

She did not want to come empty-handed and it would be pointless, so she decided to drop in on him with a mug of coffee. But not just any ordinary dull coffee, but made with some interesting recipe with whipped cream and a sweet taste of caramel. Almost with love. When she entered the boudoir, the Master was sitting on the bed and looked gloomier than a cloud.

“Hello,” she was as positive as always, in contrast to his usual seriousness. “Are you feeling okay? This is for you, by the way.”

Haarlep handed him a mug of coffee, deliberately gently touching her palms to his and showing that she was nearby. The succubus knelt down in front of him with a smile, so that there was a better view of her breasts.

“A hard day,” Raph answered her sullenly, looking mainly at the mug, and not at Haarlep. Haarlep did not bother Raph yet, just watching. If it was a hard day, then it only meant that (not) dear daddy was calling him to him and he had to listen to more mockery from Mephistopheles' retinue.

"Uh… I understand". she gently pushed his palms up with her hand so that the mug would finally get closer to his mouth. "Try it."

Haarlep got up from the floor and simply sat down next to him. She wrapped both arms around his waist and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Interesting coffee," Raph commented. "Very creamy and sweet."

"Especially for you," she purred. "I called it "Raf".

"Really?" He took a few more sips.

"It seemed to me that simple coffee with milk was too boring. So I changed it a little. And since it was made for you, it should be called accordingly!"

"Indeed," Raph could not argue with this. Nevertheless, the thought that this little exclusive, and from his favorite toy, was intended for him, raised his spirits a little. "It turned out very tasty."

Haarlep took the mug from him to finish the remaining cream with a sweet-bitter taste at the bottom and slowly licked her lips, licking the creamy foam off them.

"And now we will do the most pleasant thing in the world," she said tenderly. Haarlep put the mug aside and gently pushed the Master onto the bed. But instead of sitting on top of him and seducing him, she simply lay down next to him and gently hugged him, throwing her leg and tail over him to make it more comfortable to cuddle up to him.

"I expected something a little different. Especially from you."

"I was talking about rest!" Haarlep was indignant as a joke. "What were you thinking, my little devil? Ah, shame on you! You only think about one thing! We'll lie there for many hours until we get bored. And just try to get up without my permission. I'll eat you."

"The last sentence sounded very threatening," Raph answered her a little more cheerfully, but he was forced to agree with her. Even the devil sometimes needs a little rest. "Why are you looking like this today, by the way?"

"I wanted some variety. Why not?"

"Really, why not?" Raph carefully rolled over onto his side and lowered himself a little lower so that it would be more comfortable to bury his face in her chest. This made it even more pleasant to hug and stroke his hair.

However, seeing numerous crossed-out lines, she assumed Raphael was currently lacking inspiration. Out of habit, the succubus began drawing obscenities on the blank pages, then sketchy images of her acquaintances—floating heads of Tav, herself, Raphael, and some of the residents of the House of Hope.

Boring.

Raphael was still wandering somewhere. Never mind, he'll be back. Let the drawings in the notes inspire him, and Haarlep herself lazily go and pack a hookah. Maybe she'll be able to talk some sense into Corilla or the Archivist.

Still bored. Her soul wants to misbehave. The hookah can wait.

"Korilla, my dear," the succubus almost sang. "Why just one? There will be two soon."

"I don't have time," she answered immediately. She was holding a pile of scrolls that the Master had asked her to return to the Archives.

This was the perfect opportunity to pester the Archivist, so Haarlep stomped after Korilla.

"Hello," Haarlep waved amiably at the Archivist. "How about sharing a hookah? I'll fill up whatever you want!"

"I don't have time," the Archivist repeated, just as sternly as Korilla. Apparently, they both needed to bring incredible order to the entire House of Hope, to organize everything for everyone's convenience…

"Oh well," this was, of course, a little disappointing. Still, a hookah alone was very boring. And if you're bored, you start thinking about life and where you went wrong. And if you start thinking too much, you start to panic deep down. A succubus must be happy to please the Master, and if a succubus is sad, then everyone is sad.

There was also the option of pestering the other creatures of the House of Hope, but the skeletal debtors, the flying ghosts, and the rag-clad semblances of prisoners held no appeal. Go to Hope? To mock.

"Well, no…" she shook her head, immediately dismissing such thoughts. "Raph will definitely be displeased."

"Go look for Mol in the upper world and mock the child, reminding her of the contract? Too lazy."

"Well, here we go," she smiled sadly and took a drag from her hookah. Even the taste wasn't as intense as usual.

Still very lonely. She even managed to miss her little devil a little.

The hookah had been smoking for too long. So long that it had lost its flavor entirely, and the smoke had become less smoky. She didn't even realize how long she'd been sitting on the balcony, gazing at the endless expanse of Avernus.

Tired.

The succubus finally returned to the House of Hope to check on everyone again. This time, Raphael was already in the Archives, giving important instructions to his subordinates, who listened attentively and nodded.

The succubus playfully approached Raph from behind and hugged him from behind, her tail wagging rapaciously. He, as if by pure inertia, hugged her, but remained undistracted.

"Oh, everyone's ignoring me today!" Haarlep protested. "No one will feed me, no one will love me!"

"We all love you very much," Korilla replied without much emotion, just to stop her provocations. She was used to Haarlep simply enjoying teasing for attention.

"Yeah, just like that," Raphael confirmed. Sincerely, but not as sincere as the succubus would have liked.

"I'd even say, in spite of it," the Archivist finished her off.

"Oh, come on," Haarlep said, offended, and retreated back to her boudoir. Just to sulk at everyone and tidy herself up with a cucumber mask. It wasn't like her appearance required such a great deal of effort with typical human beauty habits—she was beautiful in her own right, regardless of appearance—but it was relaxing.

He didn't really like being fully dressed. Haarlep preferred it when his skin "breathed". Plus, for aesthetic reasons, all sorts of belts and chains suited him much better. But despondency made him try on Raphael's regular clothes. He was so bored with lounging in bed that he wanted to misbehave.

The appearance of the Master of the House suited this perfectly. But his face still didn't look serious, like the most (un)favorite little devil, so it was necessary to somehow correct this; he looked more playful than serious.

And then it dawned on him. Glasses. Glasses make everyone look serious, even if you look like the last village idiot. Raphael, albeit rarely, wore glasses, because of which Haarlep always joked about him that old age is no joy. With Mephistopheles, such things had to be kept to himself.

All that was left was to frown a little and tense the facial muscles. And obviously make a bigger hole for the tail in his pants. Whose fault is it that his tail is thicker and longer at the base?

Now the main thing: don't laugh. Because without glasses he was still Haarlep in the guise of Raphael. With glasses - well, the spitting image of the Master of the house. Some kind of magic glasses.

Haarlep went to joke about the debtors.

"There's a stain there," he said seriously to the debtor who was scrubbing the floors.

"You don't dance very gracefully. Try again." a guide on how to kill someone who is already without physical strength.

"Play better, I'm getting bored with this melody."

"And now remember: when I'm not home, any order from Haarlep is considered as my word.

Nevertheless, his eyes were already starting to hurt from the glasses. Haarlep took them off and rubbed his eyes. Who would have thought that the devil sometimes had poor eyesight. He should prepare him a present in the form of new glasses. What if his eyesight had gotten even worse, and the Master simply didn’t say anything about it?

“Haarlep, why are you dressed?” the Archivist asked him doubtfully when Haarlep decided to visit the Archives.

“Oh, is it really so obvious that I’m not Raphael?” he asked him jokingly.

“Your face isn’t so serious,” the Archivist answered. “The Master is more serious and you look like you’ve slept for many hours and eaten your fill. As always.”

“I can’t deny it,” the incubus chuckled. “And so?”

“Yes… he looks more like him,” the Archivist reluctantly admitted. The glasses did indeed provide a visual that was a little more similar to the Master.

“So I can give you an order? When Raph is not here, I am second in command!" he continued to joke.

"Don't even think about it."

"How boring you are, just the most boring!" Haarlep told him dramatically, still wearing the glasses. Waving his hand, he walked away to the portals. He needed to bring the Master a new present.

When he returned, the eternal dancer was spinning around like a spindle, and the floor cleaner was already licking his floor with his own tongue. Another debtor had rubbed his fingers bloody from the strings of his lute.

"What a joke I made…" wagging his tail, he went back to the boudoir to return to his more familiar appearance, which could not but please the incubus. He literally hugged his leather belts to himself with a satisfied look. "Ah, I missed you so much…"

"You know, when you do this in my clothes, it looks a little… Strange..." commented Raphael, who had returned home.

"And you should to turn on your imagination and put yourself in your place!" grinned Haarlep.

"I see, you are in a good mood today." the devil scratched his chin, watching him.

"Yes! By the way, here is a present!" Haarlep threw the lingerie on the bed and playfully jumped up to Raph, after which he put on the glasses he brought. He could not hold back his laughter. It turned out that he had made a mistake with the thickness of the glass and now Raph's eyes looked simply huge, as if they were magnified through a magnifying glass.

"I don't see very well in them either," Raph noted, irritated by the incubus's laughter. "- "I'll leave them for the future. The very, very distant future."

He took them off and put them away in the safe, like some kind of expensive treasure.

"So… and now you will explain to me what you did with my debtors…"

"Oh…" Haarlep came to his senses. "I overdid it a little!"

He suddenly laughed again, involuntarily remembering the big eyes from the glasses.

"Were you cursed while you were up there? Was Tasha's laughter cast upon you?"

"No, I just caught a laughie," he tried to pull himself together again. "Okay, okay, forgive me!"

What kind of word is that anyway… "Laughie"?

"I heard it from the children in the Gates. I'll show them to you later, they can also become your debtors, I arranged everything!"

"How enterprising you are."

"Who will you associate with, little devil," Haarlep purred.

He was about to change into his sword belts.

“I think it would be more logical if I put this on,” Raph noted tactfully.

“Then we’ll go joke around with the debtors some more!” Haarlep was inspired.

“Why not…” the Master of the House agreed with him.

After all, he doesn’t often allow himself to do such things. And Haarlep is a great way to dispel his own boredom.

____