#Raphaël's back

[darkmaga-returns]

French President Emanual Macron is encouraging the boycott of US-made products. Although he is speaking to EU leaders about US-made defense products, Macron is clearly in favor of the growing calls around the EU to boycott all American-made goods. “My intention is to go and convince European states that have become accustomed to buying American,” he said on Saturday after declaring that he would visit other European leaders to urge them to discontinue purchases of US defense equipment.

“Those who buy Patriot should be offered the new-generation Franco-Italian SAMP/T. Those who buy the F-35, should be offered the Rafale. That’s the way to increase the rate of production,” the president said. Macron wants to send his troops to Ukraine’s frontline immediately and has become outraged with the US for electing a president who supports peace. “This [sending troops] would mean a partial invasion of Ukraine and a freeze on the conflict, without offering any security or guarantees for the future,” Macron said.

European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen also stated that new defense loans should go to European manufacturers and has proposed a €150 billion ($163 billion) loan for member states.

This goes far beyond defense spending as European leaders are outraged by the United States backing away from the war, the Paris Accord climate agreement, the World Health Organization, and every other globalist policy that was ruining the nation.

French MEP Raphaël Glucksmann, of the Socialists and Democrats group recently demanded that the US return the Statue of Liberty. “We’re going to tell the Americans who have chosen to align themselves with tyrants, who have dismissed researchers advocating for scientific freedom: ‘Return the Statue of Liberty to us.’ We bestowed it upon you as a present, yet it seems you hold it in contempt. Therefore, it would be better suited here at home.”

[sadcambion]

Frustration

R-18 Haarlep x f!Tav x Raphaël

A little angst at the end but not TW I guess ?

(No I didn't have a better idea for a title.)

You swing fervently over Haarlep, his cock buried deep inside you. Your moaning and heavy breath break the silence of the room and Haarlep’s claws are half-buried in your hips. He gives pelvic strokes in sync with your movements and he looks at you in a dominant way, lustful. The boudoir is full of your sounds and the sound of skin that collides.

Raphael stands there, sitting in a sofa, in front of the bed, a glass of wine in his hand, sipping it gently and seems to enjoy the show. He doesn’t take his eyes off you while you get hammered by his incubus. He doesn't touch himself but his erection through the fabric of his pants is obvious.

He watches your breasts bounce. Your hips bleed out because of the claws of the incubus. He looks at how Haarlep’s cock stretches your mistreated hole. You’re a complete mess. Haarlep gently growls with pleasure under you.

In a way, Haarlep’s pushes are gentle, deep, he strikes specific points in you, those that make you throw your head back and make you scream. You hear vaguely Haarlep talking while you are lost in pleasure.

"Master, I need to cum."

He asks permission to fill you. And you know that Raphael will refuse. Raphael’s index finger plays with the edge of his glass lasciviously, he looks at the incubus with a cold air.

"No."

"But master…"

The voice of the incubus is strangled by pleasure and has the way you feel it pulsating in your hot and wet walls he is close, really very close. The half-devil looks at you, and speaks directly to you.

"Back off."

Raphael’s voice is cold and without appeal, he will not let Haalep end up in you. You reluctantly withdraw. Your body is sweaty and panting, your breath is heavy. Haarlep obviously looks disappointed and frustrated but you don’t want to be the target of Raphael’s anger. You drop carelessly into the bed next to the incubus, its erection is covered with your juice, and you have never seen its length be so painfully tense. Raphael has been playing this little game of frustration with him for long, very long minutes. This is his punishment for finished up inside you without his permission while he was busy with mortals on the material plane. When he came back and found you intertwined together, your thighs and your sticky entry of his seed he was mad with rage. That you fucked together could still pass, that him finished in you, he definitely did not accept it.

He wanted to frustrate the incubus to the max. Drive him crazy. The idea of Haarlep filling you with his semen and getting you pregnant disgusted him. He wanted to be the only one, the only one who would have this privilege and this power over you.

And he would have your womb.

Your womb belonged to him. He wanted to fill you with his devil spawns. He already imagined you the round belly of his heir inside.

He puts down his glass of wine and gets up from the couch. Haarlep doesn’t move, and neither do you, you know what’s going to happen now. The half-devil snaps his fingers and he is naked, his erection finally released from his layers of tissue. He gets on the bed and crawls on you, Haarlep starts touching himself, seeking his own release after so much frustration. Raphaël laughs wickedly.

"Forbidden to cum until I have finish."

Haarlep throws an angry look at him but he knows he has no choice, Raphael is the master here, it is him who controls the situation.

You look at Raphael while you are under him, his body overhangs you, his wings outstretched as if to hide you from the incubus. You are shivering and you still feel aftershocks of pleasure because of the blows that Haarlep had given deep inside you. Raphael grabs your thighs and spreads them wide. His smile has something sinister.

"My dear… you should know that no one but me can fill you, right?"

You stammer, you know you should be afraid when he smiles like that. But you feel excited.

"I.. I’m sorry, Raphael, I didn’t…"

You do not have time to finish your sentence that him slips into you, in a fluid and deep way. You moan gently.

He starts to move. His thrusts are hard, deep, so deep that you can feel it against your cervix. His mouth hovers over your neck and his claws dig into your hips, worsening the cuts Haarlep left you. A gasp of pain and pleasure escapes from your throat. You hear Raphael growling faintly at the sensation of your walls. He speaks softly against your neck, his voice is calm, controlled, but you feel a threatening note.

"I hope for your sake that this child will be mine…"

You answer nothing, your mind is clouded by pleasure, Raphael is more brutal and more controlling than Haarlep, but it remains good, you like it. Your hands are firmly gripped in his back.

You hear vaguely the sound of Haarlep jerking next to you while you get fucked by the devil.

Raphael hammers your body mercilessly, he wants to show who you really belong to. He wants to show that he is your master. You feel a warmth in you, the pleasure rises, you head for a new orgasm. You hear Raphael again between two strokes.

"Otherwise, my dear… My dear little mouse…"

A threat. You tense at his words, a dull fear filling you. He smiles mischievously and slyly against your neck. You feel sharp teeth touching the soft skin of your neck. He gives a deep and more brutal thrust. You feel his cock throb and hit your cervix every time. Your moans become more throaty. His claws gently lacerate the bruised skin of your hips. He doesn't finish his sentence yet.

A dull growl escapes from Raphael's chest and at the same time he floods your insides with his demonic seed. Despite the fear building within you you feel your orgasm coming at the same time and your walls contract forcefully around him, pumping out more of his cum. You moaned, exhausted beneath him. He doesn't not whithdrawing yet and seems to be enjoying the situation, he senses your fear. He glances at Haarlep, still nearby, as he finishes, his warm, thick ropes landing on her stomach. He continues to stare at Haarlep, and finally he finishes his sentence.

"Otherwise, I would kill the child."

[iconuk01]

French MEP Raphaël Glucksmann’s reply to the White House Press Secretary Leavitt after she tried to mock his earlier comments about the French wanting the Statue of Liberty back if Trump continues as he is.

Now THIS is how you reply to bullshit:

Dear Americans, Since the White House press secretary is attacking me today, I wanted to tell you this:

1. Our two people are intimately linked by History, the blood we shed and the passion for freedom we share, a passion symbolized by this Statue that was offered to the United States by France to honor your glorious Revolution.

2. As the press secretary for this shameful Administration said: without your nation, France would have "spoken German." In my case, it goes further: I would simply not be here if hundreds of thousands of young Americans had not landed on our beaches in Normandy.

3. Our gratitude to these heroes and their sacrifices is therefore eternal.

4. But the America of these heroes fought against tyrants, it did not flatter them. It was the enemy of fascism, not the friend of Putin. It helped the resistance and didn't attack Zelensky.

5. It celebrated science and didn't fire researchers for using banned words. It welcomed the persecuted and didn't target them. It was far, so far from what your current President does, says, and embodies.

6. This America, faithful to the wonderful words inscribed on the Statue of Liberty, your America, is worth so much more than the betrayal of Ukraine and Europe, xenophobia, or obscurantism.

7. We all in Europe love this nation to which we know we owe so much. It will rise again. You will rise again. We are counting on you.

8. And it is precisely because I am petrified by Trump’s betrayal that I said yesterday in a rally that we could symbolically take back the Statue of Liberty if your government despised everything it symbolizes in your eyes, ours, and those of the world. It was a wake up call.

9. No one, of course, will come and steal the Statue of Liberty. The statue is yours. But what it embodies belongs to everyone. And if the free world no longer interests your government, then we will take up the torch, here in Europe.

10. Until we meet again in the fight for freedom and dignity, we will be the continuators of our shared history and the protectors of our treasure: more than a statue of copper and steel, the freedom it symbolizes.

[shinyhappysims]

Thursday, 11:37 PM, Desjardins Household, Windenburg

Raphaël: What can I do to convince you not to do this audition?

Imani: You already convinced me years ago. I’m not convinced anymore. It’s time for me to start doing what I want.

Raphaël: What good is a family orchestra without the mother?

Imani: Shut up about the damn family orchestra, Rapha! We’re broke! Church donations can only get us so far! Someone has to be the breadwinner of this family since you failed in that regard.

Raphaël: I failed? You say that like you’ve been a good wife. You’re terrible at submitting to me!

Imani: Right. So terrible at something that I’ve been doing for 16 years.

Raphaël: I’d argue that you haven’t been doing it for at least 7 of those, considering what you’ve done.

Imani: I’m so sorry I went behind your back, Raphaël, but tell me how good you would feel if you had two sets of twins and then triplets back to back. I do everything for those kids! When they’re upset, who do they run to? Me! When they need help, who do they ask? Me! When they have good news to share, who do they excitedly share with? ME! I’m their mother, you’re just here. The only time you care about them is when you can parade around with your stupid orchestra!

Raphaël: Dieu, ça me fait chier! I care for those kids as much as you do! You’re just lying at this point.

Imani: What’s Sidonie’s favorite color? What fruit is Manon allergic to? What does Étienne like to collect? What’s Matthieu’s middle name?

Raphaël: …

Imani: That’s what I thought. See you in a couple hours.

later, at Zauberhaft Performing Arts Center

Judge: Please, state your name for the recording.

Imani: Imani Desjardins.

Judge: Your name seems very familiar. Wait, didn’t we offer you a spot in the Simphony a few years ago? You were phenomenal back then!

Imani: Oh, it’s been much more than a few years. I’m still phenomenal now, I hope. I had some… setbacks that kept me from joining back then, but this is where I belong. I'm sure of it.

[dujour13]

A Health to the Company

A little follow-up on our pwotr pals discord RP. Many many thanks to @yunessa for the idea, it was super fun and helped me out of the blues.

cw: Act IV spoilers, alcohol use, angst

For context. A spatio-temporal anomaly at the Bad Luck Tavern resulted in a paradoxical meeting of a handful of Knight-Commanders from different timelines: Siavash, Yunessa (@yunessa), Katya (@three-of-crows) , Lenarius/Leonosa (@undyingembers), Raphaël (@jean-dieu)

Theoven (@offsidekineticist), Kadira (@spyridonya), and Minovae (@silversiren1101).

They gossiped about their companions, shared their hopes and fears—although mostly their angst as this period of exile in the Abyss is a low point in their careers—and bonded (and argued) over a few—or a few too many—beers.

---

“Seelah!” It’s meant to be a whisper. “Hey Seelah, wake up.”

“Hunh? What’s happening?” The paladin sits bolt upright in her bedroll and gropes about for Radiance.

“No no no, sh, it’s just me,” Siavash laughs, stumbling into a squat next to her, even in this position somehow managing to sway on his feet. “I’m uh. I could use your help.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah… I can see that. Smell that.”

“You won’t believe who I met at the Bad Luck. It was some kind of temp—temporal thing. They were all there. They were all different! And the same!”

“Hold on. Just—sit down, will you?”

“Thanks, yeah.” He plops down heavily.

“Despite what you might think, this is not what the Inheritor lends me her power for.”

“Yes it is.”

She rolls her eyes heavenward.

He reaches out to cling to her sleeve, eyes swimming with sincerity. “Because you have a good heart. And Iomedae says to follow your heart. And your heart says you need to hit me up with some restoration before Wol—“

Too late.

“Whatcha doin’ chief?”

“I’m fine.”

The tiefling stands over them, tail twitching. Somehow, half the camp is awake now even though Siavash swears he was quiet as a mouse when he crept back into the Nexus.

He is formulating his act of contrition as his eyes travel up but he’s suddenly distracted by how cute Woljif looks in his nightshirt and forgets what he was going to say. And then Seelah’s spell takes effect and it’s like letting all the warm bathwater drain out of his mind, leaving him heavy and shivering on the cold floor of the Nexus mine.

“I thought we were on the same sleep rotation,” says Woljif.

“We are. I just went out for a bit.” Siavash uses Seelah’s shoulder to get to his feet, giving it a squeeze of thanks as he goes to wash up. A few minutes later he’s scooting his bedroll alongside Woljif’s and when he closes his eyes the floor is blessedly stationary. Again he begins formulating his apology. “I just needed some time to think. I mean, a distraction. I do my best thinking when I don’t think.”

As usual, Woljif’s mind is already ten paces ahead. He’s figured out what happened, weighed the risks considering the recent Battlebliss incident, repressed any uncomfortable memories pertaining to alcohol and Gran, and debated whether and how to scold him. “It ain’t safe. Next time take somebody with who won’t hassle you. Take Regill, he won’t talk to you.”

“Oh, yes he will,” Siavash says with feeling.

“Or me. I can keep my trap shut.”

“I don’t mind you.” His heart aches but he can’t tell him he and his shadow are the principal reason he needed the break. Before Woljif can wonder aloud why he didn’t invite him along in the first place, Siavash brushes his cheek with his knuckles and speaks low in his ear, just under his horn. “How are you holding up? Really?”

“I thought Kenabres was bad, and then I saw the Worldwound, and I thought that was bad, and now this. I think my nightmares are gonna start havin’ nightmares.” Woljif sighs, then adds in a tender, embarrassed whisper, “But havin’ you around takes the edge off.”

“Same.” Siavash kisses his shoulder. “I won’t duck out again, I promise.” Even as the words leave his lips he winces at echoes of the same words, uttered too many times in the past, and hastily adds, “I mean it.”

Woljif’s eyes look almost green in the pale light, wide open and searching the vault of the mine far above. “S’aright. You do what you gotta do, chief. Always works out in the end. Or, usually I guess.”

“Thanks for trusting me,” he murmurs, already drifting. He closes his eyes, never noticing the inky pool of darkness that settles between them.

Woljif lies utterly still until he hears the breathing at his side ease into a low rhythm. At last he relaxes just enough to allow his tail to swish beneath the blankets. He clasps his hands on his chest as if he’s praying, or dead, and stares up into the darkness knowing he won’t be getting back to sleep tonight. Waiting and dreading… and presently, like clockwork, it begins: a velvety hiss in his right ear, making him scrunch up his shoulders:

Trust no one but yourself.

A thousand thoughts crowd in in answer: but I want to – but I love him – but he’ll live up to it this time – but I don’t want to be alone.

You’re not alone. I’m here. And I won’t hurt you like everyone else has.

What are you, anyway?

Your shadow.

With a fingernail he taps the gem in the Moon of the Abyss where it’s lodged in the dip in his collarbone. You in here?

It hesitates. I’m part of you.

And that’s how come you’re lookin’ out for me huh? Vested interest?

Correct. That’s why you can trust me: I am you.

That’s a little creepy.

Next to him, Siavash sighs through his nose and shifts. Impulsively Woljif starts to reach over just so his fingertips can steal a little warmth from his skin, but as his hand passes through the shadow it feels cold and he pulls it back and tucks it into his own armpit instead.

I am part of you, and you’ve come home to me.

The Abyss? That what you mean by home?

Home and family. Your legacy, if you have the courage to take what is yours.

Really? What’s mine? Quit talkin’ in riddles and gimme some numbers.

The mansion in the rich quarter I pointed out to you, and everything it contains, and everything it represents.

But I want—that’s not all I want.

He glances over. In the dying firelight all he sees of Siavash is the faint orange outline of his mussed hair and half-elven ear and it feels like if he reached over to touch him, it would turn out to be a mirage and his hand would pass through thin air.

Get used to disappointment. You should have, by now.

But I want—

Forget him. You’ll have to someday anyway. Might as well start now.

I don’t want to! Why can’t I have it all? How come just ‘cause I’m a tiefling I always gotta go hungry?

Oh, stop whining. Yes, you’re a tiefling! Seize the Abyss within you and use it like you use magic—shape it to your own design, dominate it, direct it against your enemies and fill yourself with its power so that you become smoke and shadow, elusive and free. Reach out with both hands! Take what is yours, by right or not!

Whoa, whoa, waxin’ a touch demonic there, ain’t we?

I am part of you. I am the Abyss.

Woljif shudders and pulls the blankets up to his chin.

Use me. That’s the only way for someone like you to take what you are owed.

Someone like me.

He grits his teeth as it starts: the prickling under his collarbone where the necklace rests, rivulets of icy blue fire streaming down his arms to his fingertips, sizzling in his hands, boiling in his guts, making his hair stand on end, making him want to jump up and let loose: power.

His thrashing must have disturbed Siavash’s slumber, because he feels an arm tossed across his hitching ribs. Its warm weight soothes the energy crawling under his skin and forces him to breathe steadily.

Woljif clings to the arm and presses it harder to his chest.

I want it to be real.

Only power is real.

I want someone to really think I’m… important.

Come to me. I’ll give you something real you can hold in your hands. Something yours and no one else’s, that you are free to use as you see fit. Then you’ll be important.

The firelight dies. He can no longer make out even a dim silhouette by his side in the darkness; it’s as if he’s alone in this lifeless, cavernous Abyssal mine and if he reaches out no one will be there but his shadow, seething around him, keeping him safe—and keeping everyone away.

Maybe the Abyss is the only home someone like him can hope for.

Even before he opens his eyes Siavash reaches out for the warm body next to him and his palm slaps on cold, flat stone instead. He’s alone, he’s still in the Abyss, and he’s hung over. A dull hammer thuds behind his eyeballs. Seelah’s restoration took care of most of the consequences of his actions, but not all—probably by the paladin’s design.

Hesitantly he opens one eye and then the other, and is grateful to find that Woljif hasn’t disappeared after all. He’s kneeling over him, carefully draping a cool cloth across his forehead. “Y’aright there, chief?”

Siavash’s eyes widen as he turns to stare at him. “I had the strangest dream.”

He can’t tell anyone. They’ll all think he’s cracked once and for all. Other Knight-Commanders from different timelines? Imaginary friends?

Why does that remind him of Regill?

[dream-in-arkham]

The door to Dreams cell was pushed gently open, though it still made quite a loud noise even with how much Raphaël tried to minimize it. He stepped inside the cell, a breath leaving him. Having to be inside the cell of any inmate was never exactly safe, but the higher ups really didnt care too much about that..

Raph stood inside the cell, clipboard in hand and a small smile on his face as he looked at Dream.

" Good afternoon, Dream. How are you feeling today? "

"Ahhh…" Dream’s head tilted greatly, almost like it was about to fall off. "Good, good…" he smiled up at Raphael, adjusting his head back to normal. As Dream spoke, a mass of flesh and cloth swirled around him, reshaping him into something more presentable. His Arkham uniform was suddenly replaced with a comfortable green hoodie and khaki pants, and his hair now appeared clean and nicely brushed. "I’m doing good." he echoed.

[gotham-neuropsychologist]

As Raphael was walking home, he saw a child, barely 5 foot, smoking in the alley, her back pressed on the wall, her eyes sunken and her body expression pure of evident exhaustion, as if she hadn't slept for days.

@mist-in-the-wind

Raph had to take a double-take as he looked at the kid, what in the world was a kid doing smoking in an alleyway.. Raphaël let out a breath, waving to the kid to get their attention.

" Hey! Kid! "

He called out, his head tilting as he stood there on the sidewalk.

[sweetmage]

WIP WEDNESDAY! 🎉

A little Disco Elysium fanfic (first ever!!) that I've been chipping away at! I'm about 4k into chapter one, it's definitely gonna be 2-3 chapters.

For a little context, this takes place 7 months post game and they just had an impulsive and awkward kiss on the precinct rooftop while avoiding the office party inside. The kiss also came right on the tail end of Raphaël prophesizing to him about the Pale and the end times (again) 😅 This is them back inside, about to part ways for the night.

---

YOU - "Uhhhh…" Your mouth is dry, so you try to wet it with a gulp of stale breakroom coffee. The 'good stuff' tastes bitter when it's gone cold. Like the aftertaste of regret. "Could I get a lift?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh." He doesn't look surprised, but something about his tone seems disappointed. "I was hoping to go home right away. I need to switch over the laundry and…"

EMPATHY - It's a polite 'no'. He's trying to let you down easy, but the 'no' is firm.

SUGGESTION - If he meant 'no' then he would have said 'no'. Maybe there's a loophole. Think like a lawyer, not like a cop. Find an out, a technicality. It's there, somewhere.

INLAND EMPIRE - Hey, do you feel that? That unremitting buzzing in your the back of your skull?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - And your crotch!

INLAND EMPIRE - And your crotch. You're special, you possess the otherworldly power to transcend all logical thinking and defy the natural laws of the universe itself! If you can see through the veil of reality, if you can tap into the preternatural consciousness, you can simply reach into his mind and change that no to a yes.

YOU - You stare deep into the lieutenant's eyes, past his physical form. In a way that can't be fully described with words, you feel the pathways in his mind. His thoughts are an ocean, deep and fathomless, the tide slowly lapping at your feet as you wade through them. You can almost see it, that no just waiting to be converted. It just takes a few little tugs at the neurons then--

KIM KITSURAGI - "Khm. What are you doing?" The lieutenant is giving you a look, a slight frown and raised brow that is equal parts inquisitive and annoyed.

YOU - There goes the buzzing, fleeing like a flock of birds at the sound of a gunshot. The connection is gone and now he just thinks you're weird. "Nothing. Sorry." There's no way to explain this, so you don't.

KIM KITSURAGI - "On second thought, maybe a drive is what you need. I'll just have to stop and switch my laundry on the way."

INLAND EMPIRE - It worked!

YOU - "Ha! It worked! Suck it, fate!"

COMPOSURE - And now he's definitely going to think you're weird.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Excuse me? What worked?" He seems skeptical. No, scratch that. He's flat out confused, but not in a curious way. This is the confused frown you get when you start talking about cryptids and conspiracies or prophesizing on rooftops.

YOU - "Um. Nevermind. Thanks, Kim."

KIM KITSURAGI - "You didn't rearrange my thoughts, detective."

HALF LIGHT - How did he know you were trying to do that? Could it be that he felt your presence? Or maybe he can see into your thoughts?

YOU - "Hypothetically speaking, if I was trying to do something like that, how would you even know?"

KIM KITSURAGI - He sighs, exasperated. "Hypothetically speaking, you have tried this before. It doesn't work. You simply looked out of it so it didn't seem like a good idea to turn you loose into the streets."

YOU - "Well, you're still taking me home, so if you think about it…"

KIM KISTURAGI - "No. We've done enough thinking for one night. Let's just go." He waves his arm as if to clear the conversation and walks past you towards the stairway down.

[hassedah]

hiii! I was wondering if you could write about the boys with a reader that's really into tabletop rpg games? like d&d, cthulhu, ordem paranormal, etc. which of them would be down to play, who'd try to be a game master, which characters they'd enjoy playing

MC is a rpg games player :

Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^

Here's the headcanons you requested! I hope you enjoy it! ^^

Take care of yourself and have a nice day! ^^

Vladimir :

Vladimir had never heard of this type of game before you told him about it. Well, Ivan and Ethan had talked about it before, but he'd never really listened. He regrets this a little because he would have liked to have been able to follow the discussion with you.

He's a bit surprised when you tell him that some people think that JDR makes you violent or Satanist. It's literally an interactive story, he would have loved to have been able to play this kind of thing when he was alive, even if he would have been looking for love stories, the idea of reading/playing a story that could enable him to win the heart of a character seems really fun to him (you'll have to tell him about otome games).

Vladimir has no idea how to create a character. There are so many things to choose from and set up, and he often gets the characteristics mixed up. So he always asks for your help to create his character and his characteristics.

He'll bombard you with questions during the first few games, especially about the rules of the game, which he sometimes finds very hard to understand. What does it mean that he has 1 HP left? What do you mean, he can use his HP to cast a spell because he has no MP left? What do you mean he doesn't have enough Strength points? What is a critical failure? Why can't he discuss the situation with Aaron next to him? All right, Aaron in the game is in another room, but he can have a chat with him as he's next to him! What's an NPC? It can't be a non-playable character because the GM is playing it! MC please find a language he understands and don't get upset, he's really trying to play with you and understand what's going on.

His character's alignment is always the same, he's a loyal good. He never changes alignment and is incapable of playing a evil or even worse a chaotic character. He often plays a sort of prince or aristocrat, (this at least helps to explain the fact that his character is almost completely incapable of fending for himself), he's not very strong, nor very good at fighting, but he always has plenty of money on him and points of charisma or authority, at least enough to get out of difficult situations without constantly having to call his housemates for help (although this happens quite often).

He doesn't know the rules well enough to be the GM and he only plays the RPG if you play it, whether you play as the GM or as a character. When he plays, his character always gets on pretty well with Raphaël's or Aaron's character.

Béliath :

He's already heard of this kind of game, either at Moondance or from Ethan and Ivan. He's not really interested in it though, but that changes when you talk to him about it. He likes to be interested in what you like, so of course when you told him you often play RPGs, he wanted to know exactly what they were and how they were played. However, there are so many different RPGs out there and so many different ways of playing, he feels a bit lost. What do you mean there's even a RPG where you're cats?

He really enjoys pairing up his character with yours at the start of the game, or winning your character's heart before the end of the game. If that's not possible… he'll fall back on Ethan, Vladimir, Raphaël, Aaron or Ivan, listen his character has to end up in a relationship with someone even an NPC would suit him. Sure, it's an adventure game, but who says you can't hit on people while saving the world? Raphaël always agrees to put his character in a relationship with hers, the only problem is that they always end up having arguments in the middle of battles.

Unlike Vladimir, he often changes the alignment of his characters, although he has a preference for the chaotic good, which he finds much easier to play than the Loyal good (he also doesn't understand what's so funny about this character, why do you want to respect the law so much? It's boring!)

Béliath is always creating vampires (yes, even a vampire cat if he has to, he has to be a vampire), as cliché as possible. He can't help it, it makes him laugh. He loves the irony of being a vampire playing a vampire.

He's a pretty good actor, so he really loves playing his character, talking to him about live action role-playing games, and he'll insist on playing one as soon as possible.

He's not a very good GM and he's not very interested in taking on the role. He gets bored quickly every time he's the GM and he's not authoritative enough with him - the slightest decision between the players can take several hours, he doesn't want to rush them and he enjoys watching his housemates squabble over details.

Ivan :

He was delighted when he realised that you played RPG. He used to play it quite regularly when he was still human, and it's been a long time since he met someone to play with. Of course, there was Ethan at the mansion, but they spend all their time arguing as soon as they start a game together. Because of this, Aaron comes to tell them off and forbids them to play. After learning that you like to play this kind of game, he quickly invites you to play a game with him.

More than just acting, he loves creating characters. He has dozens and dozens of them, his characters have different alignments, they're vampires, werewolves, ghosts, sometimes humans, they have different jobs and different skills. He has written the story of each of them in great detail, and he won't hesitate to tell you about it if you ask him. However, his favourite character is a necromancer who pretends to be a simple bard, and he often uses him in his games.

He has a clear preference for fantasy and medieval RPGs.

If you're not the GM, he'll always try to at least be friends with your character. He might even suggest that you create a character duo with a shared story for the times when you play together.

Despite his many arguments with Ethan (he can't get along with him. He tries, he really does, but for every action they take they have different opinions), he's a good player, he listens to other people's opinions, often suggests ideas and has a very good knowledge of the game's mechanics, which makes him very effective when he's playing with Vladimir, who systematically doesn't understand a thing that's going on: Their in-game relationship could be summed up as "Don't try to understand, I'll explain it to you later".

Despite his many arguments with Ethan, he has already sacrificed several of his characters to save Ethan's.

He could be a good GM but he lacks authority. Nobody listens to him in the manor, everyone ignores his instructions, or even listens to what he has the NPC say, only to complain that he didn't give the right instructions. It gets worse when the players start arguing, at which point he knows it's a waste of time and he won't be able to do anything to restore calm. In the end, he hates being the GM because of this.

Aaron :

He only knows the RPG because he's already played with Ethan and Ivan, and at first he played mainly to stop them fighting, but now he also plays because he likes the game. So he doesn't really need much explanation from you (unless you have a miracle solution to stop Ivan and Ethan arguing during a game, at which point he'll take any solution). If you offer to play a game with him, he'll accept straight away.

Despite Ethan and Ivan's arguments, it's a game he enjoys. He loves the fact that the decisions he makes with the rest of the players have an impact on the story and he loves the discussion phases where he debates with the others about the next thing to do. Aaron is one of the most serious players, he tries to make the story progress in a coherent way, tell him to escort this or that NPC from point A to point B and everything will be fine, the NPC will be escorted and he'll do everything he can to protect him as best he can from the stupid ideas of his housemates, he refuses all side quests as long as they don't have a direct link with the main story and has the protection of his team at heart.

He has a preference for horror stories, so it doesn't matter whether they're set in a medieval or science-fiction world - all that matters to him is that you get to fight ghosts, demons and other supernatural creatures, or hunt down a serial killer.

Aaron plays two different types of character. Either his character is an invincible brute and a powerful fighter who protects the rest of the team by regularly acting as a human shield. Or his character is a healer when Raphaël refuses to be one. He knows that his character isn't the most resilient and that he has to rely on the other members of the team to protect him, but he tends to forget that, and the result is that he's often kidnapped, killed or taken hostage (which always delights Vladimir in these cases, because for once he's not the one who needs rescuing).

When his character is a brute, he has a very bad habit of breaking anything that causes him problems. A door? He breaks it down. A wall? He smashes the wall. A complex mechanism? Break it. A complex puzzle where you have to think long and hard for fear of making a mistake that will kill you all? He breaks everything! His character is a tough guy, with a big heart but who thinks very little, and he'll play him to the hilt without hesitation.

He's a good GM, he knows how to get people to listen to him and more often than not manages to stop the players fighting or arguing (well, except for Ethan and Ivan). He also knows the rules pretty well, he's able to guide the players when they're lost without giving them the solution and, above all, Aaron knows how to tell stories. It's very easy to be captivated by what he's telling and to be totally immersed in the game, although this can be a problem when the story is a horror story.

Raphaël :

He knows it by name, because he often hears Ethan and Ivan talk about it, but he clearly doesn't know what it is or what to do about it. The first time you talk to him about it, Raphaël pays attention. He thinks this kind of game might appeal to him - after all, he loves stories, so the idea of being able to move a story forward through the actions and decisions he takes seems excellent. He quickly agrees to play with you.

These characters are usually blind like him. Whichever character he plays, he will be friends with the character of Vladimir, and even for a game the idea of betraying Vladimir pains him. He often plays good characters and more often good chaotic characters than good loyal or good neutral characters. He also mostly plays healers, as he likes to protect and be protected by his team-mates.

If it's Vladimir, magnificent! The main quest won't be forgotten in favour of the couple's story and they'll just be a cute couple until the end of the game, but if it's Beliath, well… we can only hope that the main quest wasn't that important for the survival of the world, because it's likely to be quickly ignored because of the couple fights they'll start.

Whatever happens, he doesn't really follow the story. Raphaël accepts every side quest he comes across, from a grandmother asking you to retrieve her cat stuck in a tree to the old mayor asking you to defeat the manticore attacking the inhabitants of his village. This greatly annoys the other players, who can't follow the main story without being interrupted by Raphaël, who is absolutely determined to help the widow and the orphan. His character is often forcibly taken away by the others to continue the main story, despite his loud protests and complaints.

He's been collecting dice ever since you taught him to play RPG, and has over a hundred in a box that he hides under his bed. They come in all shapes, sizes and colours. He loves taking them out of the box to play with them or to show them to you.

He's not a good GM, but he manages to deal with conflict and tells the story well - that's not the problem. The problem is that he talks too much, he gives a lot of detail, often unnecessary detail, he comments on the NPCs' clothes, the decoration of the rooms, the sounds of the place, the whole life of the NPCs. Just wanted to ask the peasant for some information? You'll know everything about his life from birth. It would be fun if it was just one character, but it's all characters. What's more, he's too helpful to the players, you just have to ask him nicely for the solution and he'll give it, and he can't play a real villain, you can win every fight just by talking to your opponent. It drives Ethan completely mad.

Ethan :

Ethan has been playing RPG for years. He loves it, so he was really pleased when he found out you were playing. It's just that, since he's been living in the manor, he's had far less opportunity to play, well… he can play with Ivan, but if Aaron doesn't play with them it inevitably ends up in an argument. He's quick to offer you the chance to play with him, and even lets you choose the RPG you want, even though he has a preference for RPGs set in a science fiction world.

He creates a new character for each game and doesn't like taking on a character he's already played with. He very rarely plays a support role, preferring to be the team's thief or mage rather than the healer. It's not that he despises this role, he knows it's often essential to a team, but… he already spends his days healing his housemates in real life, so in the game he prefers not to have to worry about it. However, despite his best efforts to refrain from treating others, he finds it very hard to stop himself doing so, and always ends up shouting at Aaron or taking something out of his belongings to treat someone.

Ethan always chooses to create good chaotic characters, but he pretends to behave like a evil chaotic just to piss off his housemates. This works really well on Raphael, his character always ends up sulking his own.

When Ethan is one of the players, he tries to keep the others focused on the main quest. It's not easy, he feels obliged to keep an eye on everything Raphael does lest he accept a random quest from an NPC or tell too much about a secret mission, he stops Beliath from flirting with every NPC he meets (they've been chased out of several inns because of it), he stops Aaron from putting his character in danger and makes sure Vladimir doesn't get kidnapped while they're away from him. In fact, the only one he doesn't need to keep an eye on is Ivan, and it's all the more of a shame given that they're incapable of playing a game without arguing at some point.

Ethan is a pretty good GM, much to the astonishment of his housemates. Miraculously, he doesn't even disadvantage Ivan when he could have done so much to hurt his character as a GM.

Neil :

Neil had never heard of RPGs. The people they knew before they were locked in the cellar didn't play it and once they were out of the cellar they weren't in the frame of mind to find out about it. So this is the first time he's heard about it when you explain what it is and he's quite curious. He really likes the concept of a story that changes according to the decisions you make, and he's keen to try playing it with you. At least to try it out and see if he likes it.

All the characters he creates are powerful. He doesn't play a specific character alignment because the only thing he really wants is to either keep power over others or take power over others. His characters are always important people, a prince, a king or a nobleman. He has a strong preference for games involving coups d'état and power plays, whether the game is set in a science fiction, medieval or fantasy setting.

It's always complicated playing with him and other people. Neil wants to lead the troupe, he wants to be in charge and make decisions for everyone. It's difficult to get him to understand the principle of democracy and he often doesn't even have the patience to listen. More often than not that's his problem, he doesn't listen to the group's decisions and ends up endangering his character or his group in one way or another.

The only opinion he takes into account is yours, and even then he'll argue for several minutes to try to convince you that he's right. He is, however, capable of listening to you and following your advice once he has listened to your arguments and you have convinced him that you are right.

It's nice to play with him though, when he doesn't want to get the better of everyone. He gives good advice and often has good ideas.

He's not a good GM at all, he's overbearing and often unpleasant. He sighs and complains as soon as they think the players are making stupid decisions and he tends to make opponents much too strong for the players. It's not particularly pleasant to play with him as a GM.

Léandra :

Léandra likes to hang out in all the circles so she knows the JDR. She started playing it when she was just starting out and continued to do so when it was very fashionable. However, she lost interest little by little and it's been a long time since she's played it, she'd almost forgotten it existed, but the fact that you're talking to her about it brings back the memories. It's always been a lot of fun and she's quite keen to play with you. She'll look for gaming communities for you if you want.

She always creates different characters, but her characters are always chaotic, whether they're chaotic good, neutral, or Evil, she's incapable of playing a loyal character, she's tried from time to time but has never managed to keep it coherent.

She particularly likes creating wizards or demons, and she's looking to have fairly powerful characters, so she'll do everything in her power to become even more powerful over the course of the game. She also does a lot of Picrew to show what her character looks like.

She has a lot of fun getting her character to flirt with most of the NPC, and that's her main way of providing the team with information about the quest. She's a good player overall, always playing her character with conviction (which is what she prefers) and making decisions that suit her character. She also proposes interesting solutions to the problem and, above all, she knows how to listen to the suggestions of the rest of the team. This doesn't mean that she'll follow the majority opinion, even if she doesn't agree with it, but rather that she manages to change her mind when good arguments are put forward.

She's a good GM, even if the NPCs she plays tend to be a bit flirtatious. She manages to keep the players focused on the main quest and prevents most of the arguments. She also knows how to adjust the level of the enemies to the level of her players, which means that everyone can have a good time without dying at the first monster they face.

Farah :

Farah has already heard of the JDR, thanks in particular to some werewolves who were visiting the pack and playing it. She's even played a few games with them. She likes this type of game, even though she doesn't often get the chance to play it. When you tell her that you like playing RPGs, she's quite happy, especially if it means she can play a bit more often.

It's been a long time since she's played, so she may not remember all the rules very well. You don't need to explain everything to her again, though, and after a few questions she'll feel ready to play with you.

Most of the characters she creates are loyal good. She finds that much easier to play. Most often she plays a human and a paladin. On rare occasions, she also likes to play werewolves or elves, in which case she prefers to play druids or priests.

She's pretty serious, and her character sheets are always impeccable and precise. It has to be said that she has created very few characters, but they all have very well-developed histories.

She has a real preference for stories set in a medieval world, whether fantasy or entirely based on reality, although she will tend to quibble with historical facts if the story is based on reality. She wishes she didn't, but she can't help it, she knows when certain weapons were used and it always ruffles her feathers to see a rapier walking around in the early 11th century.

She likes it when the atmosphere in the team is good, so she always tries to encourage dialogue so that everyone can give their opinion, even if her habit of leading a pack sometimes makes her a little too authoritarian.

Farah is a very good GM, she knows how to tell stories very well which helps her a lot and as she's been managing her pack for years she also knows how to manage a team of players. She also always remembers all the players' character sheets very well.

[sadcambion]

What's good about bg3 (Especially Raphaël) is that it motivated me again to write fanfic and draw things. This cambion has eaten away at my brain so much that it has literally become a specific interest of mine. No joke, It helped me get out of my deep depression and get back to doing the things I like. Please I hope I'm not the only person in this situation... :')

[o-wyrmlight]

“I take it that you’re Plaisance?” Harry asked, pulling out his slightly-damp ledger from the safety of his coat. Kim didn’t know how he failed to notice before, but a piece of toilet paper was clinging to the back of the ledger for dear life. His fingers itched to pull it off. “Plaisance Pontier, Annette’s mother?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Her voice took on a quivering quality, looking between Kim and Harry from behind her cat eyed glasses uncertainly. “Did something happen? I don’t want any trouble, officers. I’m just a simple businesswoman running a bookshop! I don’t want any bad publicity going on around here…”

“No, no trouble at all,” Harry reassured with a slight laugh, hunching his shoulders with a grimacing grin. “It’s just—well. Let us introduce ourselves. I’m Para-Natural Detective Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau from the Para-Normal Investigations Bureau. This is my partner.” He gave Kim a nod and a smile. “Para-Natural Officer Jimothy Kimothy.”

What the fuck was happening?

Plaisance gave pause, squinting between them suspiciously, fingers fiddling with the medallion hanging from around her neck. “The… Para-Normal Investigations Bureau? I’ve never… heard of such a division in the RCM before.”

“It’s not a part of the RCM, ma’am—the Para-Normal Investigations Bureau is a separate entity that works the underground of Revachol to resolve para-natural disturbances that threaten Revachol’s livelihood. If Revachol is the body we all live within, then we are her antibodies.”

Having some fun writing the Doomed Commercial Area for my fanfic, A Toast To The Pigs--a Martinaise retelling where Harry wakes up in #1 Whirling-in-Rags with his memory in-tact and still has to work with Kim to solve the case. Check it out if that's of interest to you! Typical Disco Elysium themes and warnings are to be expected.

[swayziiwriter]

Handprints | Raphaël Varane

summary: some said jealousy was a disease, but if jealousy had Raphaël leaving handprints all over your body? you were willing to catch it.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

Raphael ran his palm against your flushed back before landing another harsh slap to your ass. You body jolted slightly, the area becoming red with his handprints as he continued to massage the soft skin.You let out a small moan as he slipped a finger into your juicy pussy, aching to be around his cock.

You were a mess, hair down and messy, your evening gown discarded of a while before. Raphael wasn't stopping any time soon with his punishments. And as twisted as it sounded, you didn't want him to stop. It started off all so innocent, you were at a charity banquet when you ran into an old friend, Nick. You were simply catching up on the past years of your life until Raphael came to your side, insisting that you come with him immediately.

"Oh he was not!" You continued raising your voice. "Please y/n don't take me as a fool, he wanted to fuck you right there" Raphael escalated. "We were just catching up for fucks sake" you yelled, causing the room to go silent as Raphael stopped spewing out returning arguments.

Raphael was the jealous type. While some would find it insufferable, you found it to be one of his best qualities. His jealousy towards any man that came just a bit too close to you was extremely hot. You had made Raphael aware of these feelings, letting him have his way with you in return for getting him so riled up. He was rough, just how you liked it.

Your breathing was uneven, your body becoming sore from the marks left on your ass. Your face was burning, cheeks hot as Raphael brought a hand to your throat from behind you. He was moving you into dogsy position, just how you liked it.

His grip on your neck as firm, only bringing you pleasure as he snaked his free hand down to your hip bringing you closer to his body. His hard cock was sprung against your ass, twitching slightly as precum covered the tip.

"Your ass is gonna be different shades of red by the time I'm done with you" Raphael cooed, his raspy voice sending shivers down your entire naked body. Your hands clung to the pillows at the top of the bed as you positioned your body to be as straight as possible, arching your back slightly. "Fuck me Raph, make me yours" you taunted, testing the limits.

Raphael let out a dry chuckle before thrusting into your harshly, shutting you up swiftly. You let a pornographic moan, shutting your eyes as Raphael built up his pace. His back shots were all consuming, you were whining under him begging for more. He filled you to the brim, making sure you were taking everything he was giving. Raphael drilled his cock into your pussy mercilessly. Your satisfied moans and screams were vindication enough for him.

Everything about sex with him was hot. The way his cock deliciously filled you was irreplaceable. No man could have you falling apart at their mercy like he had you. He could've asked you for anything right now and you would've said yes he was fucking you so good. Every back shot bringing you closer to letting go all over his cock. Raphael kept his grip on your neck, tightening with even harder thrust. "So fucking tight, all for me" Raphael groaned, bringing his hand from your waist to slap your ass, leaving you completely cock drunk.

The sound of his cock drilling into your core was lucid, absolutely filthy. The echoing sound of skin slapping was turning you on even more. Your body was begging for a release, clinging for dear life as Raphael only continued. "Mhm, I'm so close" you managed to moan, now completely laid flat on the bed as you couldn't hold yourself up anymore.

"Want you to cum all over my cock" Raphael replied, increasing his thrusts into you. He was pounding into you, you were ruined. "Cum inside me" you moaned out half dazed. "Whatever you want mon cherie" Raphael responded. Raphael moved your body slightly up until he reached your g-spot, your legs were shaking as he finally hit that delicious spot inside of you.

You came undone all over his cock, gushing your juices all over his pulsing member. "Don't stop, don't stop" was all you could manage as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Raphael managed to ride your through your high before letting go. Cummimg inside of you, you moaned at the feeling of his warm seed coating the inside of your walls.

You felt like collapsing, your whole body aching as Raphael had completely fucked you out without a care. But you loved it, a week without his rough touch had you feeling starved, craving his dominance.

[squid-de]

DRACULA, THE COUNT — "I'm shivering different. This shit ain't nothing to me, man. I'm a black hound. I'm licking my wounds in the grass. We smoking opportunistic microorganisms. Smoking that Roustame Diodore south Advesperascit page-three girl deluxe cryptozoological protoplasmic kush. We smoking Col Do Ma Ma Daqua. I'm on twelve Pyrholidons, smoking on phasmatodean dick. We smoking that Boogie Street boogers? We snorting that good Franconigerian cavalry jibbies. They must have retrograde amnesia, they forgot that I'm *Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau*. That Pox pack hittin' that pussy smell, like a Coupris Kineema. We smoking shit in apricot faïence, blowing Her Innocence's bubbles. I'm sick in the head. I'm on them Coal City tic-tacs. I'm on them Yekokataa apple nibblers. I'm on them Tioumoutiri geronimos. I left my prybar in the lorry, I'll have to can-open them next time. I don't give a fuck if I go hobo. I don't need to see the hostel bill anyway. We s-- ...I'm high on twelve Dick Mullens looking to beat the viscous goo out of a fresh Puta peone. We smoking spirit bombs, you stupid piece of shit! I'll fucking eat your mind! Call that pussy the Coalition Government, 'cause I'm in this bitch, and I *can't get out*. Last guy who ran off on the precinct got choked out by some Fairweather T-500 gauntlets. The last thing he ever saw was the kinetic redistributors on them. Slowly faded into the pale, and I let the Angel of History take him. I need some Boogie Street boogers! Don't be shy girl, *I want to have fuck with you*. I'm shivering like Arno van Eyck. Bwee?! Welcome to the Apricot Suzerainty, bitch, open up! Guillaume le Million, I suck his cocaine out of another man's eyeballs. My hetero-sexual life partner a speedfreak, he look like Guillaume Bevy. You ain't seen ten centims in your life, bino! Reach for my wrist and you'll get turned into a Game Over. Y'all gotta stop playing with me, man. I threw the Filippian crown jewels at Le Petit Rat catacombs under Corpus Mundi. I have built 0.000% of Communism. This shit ain't *nothing* to me, man. Tied the SKULLS to the back of a motor carriage and dragged 'em around Rue de Saint Ghislaine for twenty-four hours. Motherfucker! Looked like a pinball goat after we was done with him. SKULLS wanted some initiative, blew up their entire tenement. I'm shivering like Franconegro. She drop that ass on me from an internally coherent angle, they thought I was Kras Mazov. Top-shelf pilsner, disrupted my infra-materialism. I have seen the March decree, I have seen *le Retour*. I was Jamrock shuffling for the Perikarnassian before you all even became an isola. This shit ain't nothing to me, you stupid piece of shit. Drive the Motorway South and you will *dither*. That pussy feel like Samaran butter. You think I care about this shit? Ask me if I care about this shit, 'cause I don't give a shit. If I had a reál for every time they said I gave a shit, I'd be broke, 'cause I don't give a shit. My ex-something look like Dolores Dei. I grooved so hard they thought I was Ostentatious Orchestrations. This shit ain't *nothing* to me, man, I'll pale-bomb you, you stupid piece of shit!"

[tbwoe6]

Dear Americans,

Since the White House press secretary is attacking me today, I wanted to tell you this:

Our two people are intimately linked by History, the blood we shed and the passion for freedom we share, a passion symbolized by this Statue that was offered to the United States by France to honor your glorious Revolution. As the press secretary for this shameful administration said, without your nation, France would have spoken German. In my case, it goes further. I would simply not be here if hundreds of thousands of young Americans had not landed on our beaches in Normandy.

Our gratitude to these heroes and their sacrifices is therefore eternal, but the America of these heroes fought against tyrants, it did not flatter them. It was the enemy of fascism, not the friend of Putin. It helped the resistance and didn’t attack Zelensky. It celebrated science and didn’t fire researchers for using banned words. It welcomed the persecuted and didn’t target them. It was far, so far from what your current president does, says and embodies.

This america, faithful to the wonderful words inscribed on the Statue of Liberty— your America is worth so much more than the Betrayal of Ukraine and Europe, Xenophobia or Obscurantism. We all, in Europe, love this nation to which we know we owe so much. It will rise again. And you will rise again. We are counting on you, and it is precisely because I am petrified by Trump’s betrayal that I said yesterday in a rally that we could symbolically take back the Statue of Liberty if your government despise everything it symbolizes in your eyes, ours, and those of the world.

It was a wake up call. No one, of course, will come and steal the Statue of Liberty. The statue is yours. But what it embodies belongs to everyone. And if the free world no longer interests your government, then we will take up the torch, here in Europe.

Until we meet again in the fight for freedom and dignity, we will be the continuators of our shared history, and the protectors of our treasure. More than a statue of copper and steel, the freedom it symbolizes.

Raphaël Glucksmann

French Member of European Parliament.

March 14, 2025• 5:34 PM on Twitter (also known as X)

[solesoldier]

i know i've been back .2 seconds but harry du bois tequila sunset dick mullens raphaël ambrosius costeau my beloved ... i just want to write the most unhinged shit

[another-heroine]

Witch Toll

Maybe I got carried away about the mission of seducing the local priest and it ended like this!

Thanks @jean-dieu for lending me your awkward Sarenite, I studied him like he was a bug and I'm pretty satisfied. And Ekaterina had some fun bullying another Inquisitor >:)

CW: slighlty dubious intentions, teasing, power dynamics, flustered tiefling, better than a simple kiss (though 'better' is not the right word for this *evil laugh*)

Another day, another opportunity for Hulrun to get on everybody’s nerves. And it was worse when Liotr was away from Kenabres like that time.

Raphaël took a deep breath. It was a matter of time. May Saranrae give him wisdom and resilience to endure that nonsensical chase by nighttime into the woods.

“By the instructions we have, they must be not far,” the Inquisitor warned his squad. “Keep your eyes open.”

Perched owls watched over them with their piercing yellow eyes. Some of the witch hunters babbled prayers while following their leader.

“Damn wenches,” one of them cussed. “Like it isn’t enough to put their worthless lives in demons’ grasp, they put innocent folk in danger as well.  Who in their right mind would stroll around here to ask for help?”

“Charmed folk,” another one replied. “The poor fellows fall for their words like flies on an open honey jar.”

“And then get slapped to death.”

Raphaël stopped suddenly and gave a stern look at them. “Are you done with chit-chatting?”

The witch hunters looked at each other and nodded, slightly embarrassed.

“Let me refresh your mind one more time,” the Inquisitor recalled. “When we find the suspect’s house, you stay right behind me and let me lead the investigation. No vandalism, no unrequired words, nothing without my approval. By Everlight, you are men, not rabid dogs!”

One witch hunter called quietly, “Inquisitor”.

Raphaël looked at him and noticed the lad was pointing to somewhere ahead. And indeed there was something: warm lights following in a line. The squad got in position without second thoughts and followed the Sarenite.

A few commoners were at the door of a humble cabin. The Inquisitor waved for his men to not approach too much yet. They had to observe them first.

The door opened and a subtly glowing figure appeared. It was kind of hard to see her face since she was surrounded by the small group. She talked in a hushed voice, giving satchels and apparently elixir vials to the visitors.

“... It should help. Come back if you need anything else,” she guaranteed to an old woman.

“Erastil blesses you, girl.”

One by one, the people dismissed through the woods, and Raphaël held the line, ignoring the antsy feeling among his squad. They were not under Hulrun’s orders, but his. They should know how to behave for good or else.

Finally it was possible to give a good look at her, though from afar. The suspect was a copper-haired aasimar. Raphaël had heard about her before, but for a long time he thought the stories were exaggerated — a child of celestial living alone in the woods, asking for nothing but for people to leave her alone and let her help them the best she could. Why was she not in the Iomedae’s ranks as many of her kind have been?

A thought sparkled in the Inquisitor’s mind — Maybe because she is not like the others of her kind.

“Inquisitor, what now?” one of his men asked.

Raphaël swallowed hard. He was not nervous, but somehow his throat got constricted and he felt thirsty.

The woman got back inside the cabin and closed the door.

“Inquisitor?”

“I'll go ahead.” Raphaël left the shadows. “If I need you, I’ll send a signal.”

“Yes, sir,” the group agreed.

Walking to the cabin was strange. It was like his legs weighed much more than they used to. But before the tiefling could raise his hand and knock on the door, a soft voice asked, “Come in”.

And so he did. The inside of the house was scarcely lit by oiled lamps. Raphaël stiffed for a second; he felt the same piercing yellow eyes from earlier over his head, right from the ceiling, but as he looked up, there was nothing there.

“May I help you?”

The aasimar was sitting on a straw stool, sorting some herbs. She didn’t seem bothered by the strange visitor.

Raphaël got to his composure again and asked, “How… How did you know I…”

“I saw you and your men outside. Not mean to be rude, but being discreet isn’t one of their greatest skills.”

The Inquisitor kept his mouth shut, with a bitter feeling lingering in the back of his head.

She looked at him for the first time, and a soft smile appeared on her face, though not touching her eyes. “And it’s very rare to see someone like you on their side.”

“What do you mean? Because I’m a tiefling?” Raphaël scoffed, defensive.

The woman shrugged. “Let’s be honest, you should have made a great impression over Hulrun and your comrade-in-arms for they don’t cut off your tail or horns. At least.”

Raphaël frowned. “Who are you?”

The aasimar kept organizing the herbs before her. “Just someone minding her own business. But if it’s a name you want, it’s Ekaterina.”

“By your accent you are not from here.”

The woman sighed and got up. Raphaël’s tail twitched; she was shorter than him for a few centimeters. “You are right. I’m from Irrisen. But don’t mistake me for a Winter Witch, yes? I’m a druid.”

“Why are you so far from your homeland?”

“Personal matters. And now, my turn; what’s your name?”

Her body language was quite relaxed, but yet her words made the tiefling hesitate a little. She smelled of thyme and smoke.

“Raphaël,” he exhaled noisily. “I’m a servant of Sarenrae.”

Ekaterina looked at him up and down. “I see.”

He flushed. Of course he was, otherwise he would not be wearing Sarenite motifs.

“So…” Ekaterina put her hands behind her back. “You came to my home, asking questions and giving judgemental eyes. But as you can see, there is no trap, no luring or even a hungry beast lurking to eat you alive around here. Have I satiated your curiosity already?”

Raphaël cleaned his voice. “There are rumors saying that you were involved in… hedonist rituals.”

Ekaterina’s brows raised. “Really? When?”

She did not look offended. In fact, the words of the Inquisitor made her giggle.

“Not like a host or a guest, but… Someone came here and ordered a love potion. Is that true?”

Ekaterina smiled warmly. “That’s not my kind of business. But it would be… interesting, I daresay. People say a lot of things about everyone and everything, don’t you think so?”

Raphaël nodded, feeling weird, and getting nervous for being weird. Maybe he should send the signal for the other witch hunter right the way. Or just walk through the door and put a stone over that investigation.

Ekaterina noticed his hooves bringing him back to the entrance. She shook her head and added, “You witch hunters are so childish sometimes, putting it mildly.”

Her words itched Raphaël. “What do you mean?”

“Same old stories, every day. Hedonism, eating children, demonic pacts. It doesn’t matter if someone like me is just trying to survive and help good people, for many of you, my kinship and I should be at the stake whatever it takes.”

Raphaël protested, “Not every Inquisitor is like it!”

“You mean ‘like Hulrun’, am I right? Gladly I never ever met him,” she snorted. “Everybody is afraid of you because you're always scared of anything. If you were more flesh than divine weapon, maybe things would be easier and fairest for everyone.”

He was angry, but she was right. Every word was like a scorching ray against his skin, ignoring his Hellish heritage. Like the purifying Everlight herself.

Raphaël gave up. He walked back to the druid with his fists clenched, but his voice sounded quiet, almost like a begging, “Let me prove I’m not like them”.

Why was he doing that? He had no idea. Maybe because he was unfairly suspicious towards a child of Heaven, a lonely heather. Maybe because her presence had a powerful influence over him…

Or maybe because his mortified flesh was asking for that.

Ekaterina gave him a strange glance. She did not expect her words would bring that kind of outcome. She just wanted to shoo him away, but the effects were opposite.

“Let me prove myself,” he repeated, his heart beating fast against his ribcage.

Ekaterina pondered. “Do you have any idea how strong this request is?”

“Yes,” he replied without a blink.

That was a serious matter. Then it would be. The woman suggested, “Back in my homeland, when the house owner is disrespected somehow, the offender should bring an apology token. It could be a sacrifice, a terrible secret, or even sex.”

The last word made the Inquisitor’s guts freeze.

“Whatever that makes the offender vulnerable. So, lay down on the floor.”

“What?”

“Now.”

He asked for it. Dear Sarenrae, where was his head when he agreed with that? His tail rattled on the cold stone like an eager serpent, and involuntarily it wrapped softly on one of the druid’s ankles.

“Calm down, Inquisitor,” she stated, removing her limb from the desperate grasp like it was but a withered vine.

Dozens of ghostly-yellow eyes were watching them. Raphaël’s throat got dry again, as the woman put one foot on his chest, right over the Everlight insignia. She kept the other on the floor, next to his head, letting the worned hem of her tunic flutter on his chin and neck.

“I’m sorry,” he begged, either to her or his goddess.

“You are fine,” the druid hummed, looking deep into his eyes.

He wanted to move, to brush at least one thumb against her warm skin, from the ankle to the calf and up the way. To… kiss her. But he couldn’t do that; he made an unbreakable oath on his own.

“Don’t come back here again, unless you have a good, good reason,” she said. “Am I being clear?”Raphaël just nodded, and when she took off her feet over him, he felt… empty. And naked.