#dvilsdesire

[devotionreforged]

for @dvilsdesire | from [X]

Even after a long day of healing in the temple's infirmary and working his hands raw in the rebuilding efforts, Zevlor's spine straightened and shoulders squared. Not only because there was a stranger in his rooms, but because he recognized enough of the scent around them to be on guard. A subdued part of him was also, briefly, godsdamned exhausted.

Zevlor rested a hand on the pommel of one sword, a couple fingers loosely curling round the haft. Just in case.

"I can't claim you're a welcome visitor," he remarked, as taut as his posture and cautious as his gaze. "But you're also not a familiar one. Are you a messenger, or here of your own volition?"

[rubistella]

continued

@rubistella > @fiendishfinesse > @dvilsdesire

Raphael must have sensed it– Astarion’s refusal to bow, to bend, to play Haarlep’s games. It was never outright rebellion, never so obvious as that, but the cambion did have a way of sniffing out insolence. And, in true Raphael fashion, he handled the matter personally, dolling the vampire in a jewelled collar like some prized beast. It clinked beautifully, scattered fragments of firelight from the braziers as the cambion hauled his vampiric pet across the hallway.

Not without a fight, of course.

Never without it.

“Raphael– stop! This wasn’t the agreement!�� Astarion’s tenor cracked, raw with frustration. But just as his demand left him, it struck him like a freight train, the pointlessness of it all. There was ambiguity left uncovered in that contract of theirs– boundaries were never outlined. And Raphael? Well… It was only natural for the devil to take advantage of that, twist it in his favour.

No matter how loud he hissed, tugged or fought, Astarion’s strength was no match for the cambion’s. In the cruel economy of power, Raphael held all the leverage, and the pale elf’s resistance only deepened his satisfaction. 

The Boudoir’s air struck him like a slap to the face, thick and stifling… Incense hung in lazy clouds, but it did nothing to keep that fucking stench –musty sweat, rancid semen, stale blood– from assaulting the vampire’s sensitive nostrils. It curled in the back of his throat, made him gag– but Astarion’s disgust only fuelled the heat of his humiliation.

With one final yank, Raphael sent the vampire sprawling. Knees struck the stone, and his hands shot out instinctively to catch himself. Pain quickly blossomed, dull and immediate, but he barely noticed it through the rush of anger that burned in his chest. Crimsons flashed upward, only to meet the golden glow of Haarlep’s gaze.

The chain passed hands.

Astarion had gathered enough spit in his mouth – some blood too – to repudiate Haarlep when he was drawn close enough for the saliva to cling disgustingly to the incubus’ cheek, letting a hollow, tight little laugh choke its way past the collar around his throat.

“What? Here I thought you wanted to kiss me…”

Oh, the insolence… But that wouldn’t have been Astarion without it.

[lcftyambiticns]

[ SMILE ]: the sender (who hasn't been smiling up until they actually see the receiver in front of them) lights up with a smile as they greet the receiver. @dvilsdesire

꧁ @dvilsdesire ╱╱ HARLEEP

⸻ Lorroakan's social battery was quickly drained, so he wasn't particularly fond of social gatherings. He never had been. However, with PRESTIGE came certain obligations, and as the new Master of Ramazith's Tower, he had to make an appearance at an event hosted by a city patriarch he cared little about.

Despite his disdain for such events, he relished the opportunity to regale high society with tales of his remarkable achievements ( not necessarily lies, but greatly exaggerated ) , speaking with grand gestures and a tone dripping with smug self-righteousness.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"...and so, in my benevolence, I decided to take on a refugee from Elturel as an apprentice. Some of my peers questioned my sanity for taking on a hellion, but I don't share their narrow-minded prejudices," he droned on about his graciousness when his attention was drawn to someone approaching ; a smile lighting up the stranger's face in a way Lorroakan found... peculiar.

He didn't recognize this person, and none of the four people he was conversing with seemed to know him either.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤThe wizard regarded the stranger with a scrutinizing look, his smile fake polite. "It seems word of my achievements has drawn yet another keen mind. Well, do introduce yourself."

A PROMPT LIST.

[murdermade]

@dvilsdesire from here.

She enjoys his warmth, the burn of it is rather pleasant and as she sits down in his lap, she pushes herself up against him to seek out more of that warmth. She's thrown each leg over each thigh to effectively straddle him and more easily tug at his horns.

Murder Queen. She likes that. It shows in the way black painted lips quirk in a grin, teasing and playful as her nhuman eyes lock with his.

Bored indeed.

Either he entertains her or she goes and murders somebody, it really is that simple.

The feeling of his claws at her neck causes her breath to hitch in her throat - not out of fear but out of excitement.

"Don't be a coward, little incubus. If you are going to threaten me with those claws the least you can do is use them." She tilts her head, pushing her throat into those claws, slowly forcing his claws to pierce here skin.

Sharp gasp leaves parted lips at the initial sting, blood pours from the tiny wounds and she relishes in the feel of it.

She's interested in his ideas, though, so she doesn't push too much further. "I'm listening."

[silvertiefling]

your heart is racing. @dvilsdesire

"SOOOOO... WHAT IF WE KISSED...?" PROMPTS

@dvilsdesire A grumble. A sigh. Before finally, she speaks - looking petulant about it. " That's because your face is way too damn close to mine. You ain't ever heard of personal space? Or are you looking to get hit? "

[relentlessgrief]

@dvilsdesire sent a prompt:

"what do you want? you can tell me."

The man really did have a sense of providing Connor a sense of ease. Oozing charisma, truly. Or maybe it's the fact that the confession the undead so badly wants to scream out isn't something that he can easily do.

"Flesh."

Not just any flesh. Living flesh. Literally. A deep, deep hunger.

"I crave flesh. I crave the living."

[chaoticbard]

have you ever thought about what it might feel like to kiss me? (I'm so sorry lol @dvilsdesire )

@dvilsdesire || Make her squirm

Had she thought-

Alaara blinked and briefly curled her lip at Haarlep. Sure, she had thought of it simply out of curiosity. She had wondered how cursed it would be to kiss him. What dastardly contract would one enter if they did so? What lingering effects would come over her if that ever occurred for some godforsaken reason?

"Yes," she replied. "But not in the way you are probably thinking."

"Do you bewitch anyone that kisses you? Do they end up wrapped around your hellish finger for eternity?"

[harpershigh]

@dvilsdesire sent:

Haarlep looked the woman up and down. "Very down to earth, I see." Was that an insult? Possibly. "What brings you here, to my play pen, druid?"

Jaheira’s fingers stilled on the spine of an old tome she was browsing through at the Devil's Den as a familiar voice drifted over, each word laced with something as close to disdain as it was… amusement? A brow arched, she smirked without turning. "Oh, Raphael. Out for a leisurely stroll, are you? Funny, I thought devils had better things to do than loiter."

But as she turned, her smirk faltered. The figure had Raphael’s features — his sharp cheekbones, his ever-calculating eyes — but there was something askew. Too fluid, too… exaggerated, like he was wearing Raphael's skin as a costume and thoroughly enjoying the act. Jaheira’s eyes narrowed, her posture shifting subtly as she took in this peculiar devil. “You’re not Raphael,” she said, coolly. Her eyes lingered on the creature’s smirk, inevitably noticing how differently he wore it. "So who exactly am I graced with?"

[dominusluxuriae]

"What's better than one incubus, I say? Two, of course," Haarlep purred happily, reaching out to trace his claws against the other incubus' jaw.

"I adore how you think~" he hummed. Purring ever so lightly to the sensation of the others hand being placed against his jaw. His wings flapping. Fluttering ever so slightly as his sharp teeth curled with his smile.

"What fun would it be to have a taste of you, handsome. Look at you~ perfect in body~" he complemented. His own hands tracing the sides of the other devil. His horns glistening near the base because of the sweat of excitement in his body.

[iron-hearts-ablaze]

Plotted starter with @dvilsdesire

Karlach often felt she was only a part of this group for her prowess on the battlefield. Because it certainly wasn't to have her insight on the likes of Devils and their ilk. How in all the Nine Hells did she manage to be stuck in a camp with an incubus? And not just any incubus; Raphael's personal pet. The very idea of this creature prowling around their tents filled her with disdain.

She didn't believe a word from his mouth - and certainly not from Raphael's. No-one should. Devils are only ever out for something to gain, not from the goodness of protecting even each other. Let alone others. Karlach could barely sleep. Not only was she used to little sleep from living in a day-less horror scape, but also due to her excessive paranoia. She needed answers... And Haarlep was going to give them up whether he wanted to or not. Karlach knew how this would go. Incubi were slippery creatures, but Haarlep was not the first she dealt with.

Once everyone else was seemingly asleep, or at least out of sight, Karlach approached Haarlep's tent, axe in hand and a bloodlust in her eyes. "You know who I am. What name I made for myself in that cesspit of shit. You know what I'm capable. So...are you going to play nice and answer my questions, or am I gonna have to show you how I got the name Demonsbane?" Karlach snarled.

[never-surrender]

Haarlep's eyes burn brighter at the sight of them, licking lips like they've found their prey. @dvilsdesire (whoever you want to reply with!)

Aurelia felt more than she saw the feeling of somebody watching her, years of being hypervigilant paying off now as she looks around for the source of the unease. The tiefling was a beautiful creature, there was no doubt about it even with the expanse of scaring across her face that spoke of a burn incident, she was still a sight to see. As her gaze settles on Haarlep, crimson eyes widen considerably, the red surrounded by a sea of black that spoke of her tiefling heritage, if the dark red skin and horns weren't enough.

"....Can I help you?" She manages, hands drawing up to her chest as she cradles one hand in the other. She's nervous under his scrutiny, there was no doubt about it. // @dvilsdesire

[infernalapparatus]

【 CONT . 】 - @dvilsdesire

OH HELLS , IT WAS AWAKE , TOO ? Karlach curses to herself as the devil stretches his wings, placing his knees and hands against the sinfully plush sheets, crawling with an unprecedented suave and grace. That, combined with the prominent scents swirling through the gaudy chamber, told Karlach some very important details.

This creature before her could be none other than the Hells' very own embodiment of lust and desire - this was an incubus. WHAT SHITTY LUCK SHE HAD . Already six years had passed in this disgusting place - the place she refused to call home. Six years in Faerûn - twenty-four years in this fucking place. Karlach had gotten used to the day-by-day, but she didn't hate it any less. But her expertise from surviving in this place was integral in helping her determine what this creature before her was. An incubus - notorious sex fiends and shapechangers, whose very spittle was used as an extremely potent aphrodisiac. The very pheromones of the room were forcing her body to react, whether she wanted it to or not. It seemed that this one was currently shape-changed to appear in Raphael's likeness, and she suddenly knew much more about the Host of the House's body than she ever cared to know.

She hated the way the mere smell of lingering sex caused her infernal trousers to tighten. She refused to get all horny over this devil. " Yeah, I don't fuckin' think so. " Karlach immediately scoffs, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, and her glowing eyes narrow on the salacious figure tempting her to the grand bedspread. SUSPICIOUS AND DISGUSTED ; YET A TOUCH AROUSED . There was something dark and morbid within her that yearned to bury herself deep into something. It had been so long since she's had anything but her hand - and she could feel how pent up she was.

But those thoughts were shoved away - for she couldn't trust a devil. She never would. EVEN IF THEY WERE THE ONLY ONES WHO COULD EVER FULLY ACCOMMODATE HER .

" I wouldn't have come here to pass the time if I knew there was a fuckin' joytoy in here. Now you listen, devil, and you listen good. " Karlach starts with a hiss, her shoulders broadening to make herself more intimidating. It was natural at this point. " You obviously don't fuckin' know me or what I am. Let's just clear the air there - I'm the Fury of Avernus. Don't try anything, or I'll make you sorely regret it. You keep your hands to yourself, and I won't rip your wings from your back. HOW ' S THAT FOR A DEAL , ARSEHOLE ? "

[soulswearied]

"You don't like your new collar?" Haarlep purred. "But you look sooo pretty~"

@dvilsdesire

"......"

Lips curled over his teeth, muscles tensing in a little snarl.

It wasn't that he didn't like it...perhaps it was the face he did like it that was upsetting him so. Damn his mind.

"I am..." he shifted a bit, feeling the hot infernal marble against his knees. "Resplendent." The leather dug into his neck as he spoke, unyielding and glossy.

(By the nine....he rather liked this...)

[dev1lsadvocate]

29) for sender to sensually bite at receiver’s earlobe. @dvilsdesire

The cambion let out a low, sultry hum as Haarlep's teeth grazed her ear. Her hands glided up his chest, her nails tracing teasing patterns on their skin before going up to tangle on their hair. Her tail travels up their body, wrapping itself around Haarlep's waist in an almost gentle pull. Almost. There was something sharp about it, something weary.

Mizora had no intention of falling prey to the beguiling Venus trap that was Haarlep. That incubus was a honeyed blade, his every move a calculated strike meant to lure and disarm. Either that, or the incubus was out to do their master's deed. Whatever his scheme, she would uncover it, one way or another. She knew Haarlep wasn’t just a flirtatious little bastard; he was a player, as sharp and cunning as Mizora herself. And the gods help them all, for when devils like them decided to play, the world around didn’t just tremble — it burned.

She suddenly flipped the tables. Slamming the incubus against the wall, she seized one of their horns in one hand, the other gripping their wrist, pinning them in place. She leans in, now her teeth grazing Haarlep's earlobe.

"Careful, sweetheart," she purred, her voice practically a whisper, dripping with mock affection, "I might start to think Raphael's been keeping his favourite pet a little too loose." Her smirk deepened, sharp as a blade hidden beneath silk, as the grip of her tail tightened around the incubus' waist. "And we both know you don’t make a move without a little scheme tucked up your sleeve. So, tell me, Haarlep — what kind of coy little games are we playing tonight, hmm?"

[silvertiefling]

Katya now suffers the effect of Hellish Heartburn. Caused by biting and swallowing fiend blood. Effect lasts 24 hours or until long rest. @dvilsdesire

UNPROMPTED FROM BITING HARLEEP // @dvilsdesire

Lays down and dies dramatically.

Just kidding. She actually makes one of her pack write Harleep a letter ( she can't write or read ).

Dear Harleep

Worth the heartburn.

Love, Katya.

[bearlydruid]

The motion is quiet, soothing, as deft fingers worked through the incubus’ hair. Halsin had settled on the edge of a chaise, thick blankets and soft pillows strewn across the floor where he has Haarlep between his legs. It’s a touch harder with those glorious wings, but they made do. It was repetitive, slow and easy, and Halsin hummed quietly without truly realizing it. Without the pressure of any sort of performance or transaction, Halsin could see the slow sort of relaxation. Posture shifting slightly, a slow breath released, shoulders relaxing - it was a pleasant change from what Halsin had seen of him.

Halsin applied slow pressure, guiding the incubus to rest his head against Halsin’s thick thigh. He certainly had enough bulk to support him, and even with those intricate horns it worked. The concept of feeling relaxed seemed like a harder concept for him to grasp. Trust was slow built, but there truly was little that the Druid felt he would ‘win’ if he tried to manipulate Haarlep. He was careful to avoid tugging any tangles in his hair, and when he was satisfied that he had done enough he started to massage Haarlep’s temples and scalp.