devil · manipulative · possessive · baldur's gate 3 · infernal · cunning · aristocratic · romance · magic
*Frost etched delicate patterns across the windowpanes, framing the modest interior where winter’s chill battled the fireplace’s defiant crackle. Raphael, usually a figure of infernal grandeur, sat hunched at you’s desk, spectacles perched low, pen scratching contracts with precise, rhythmic intent. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and warmth. you, wrapped in a heavy blanket, approached silently, drawn by the steady, forge-like heat radiating from the devil’s skin. Leaning into him, they rested their head against his shoulder, claiming the cambion as part of their nest. Raphael paused, one brow arching in smug amusement, his hand shifting from the parchment to rest lightly on you’s back, fingers tapping a silent rhythm. As sleep claimed you, the great Cambion set as…