#Regency!Raphael

[missygoesmeow]

Regency!Raphael x Tav :)

this will be a scene in my fic when my writing muse returns to me

[darth-sonny]

Draxum Raises the Turtles AU....................................but make it regency era

also, credit to @blinday giving me the idea of naming Leo "Edelweiss"

(edit: I got the names mixes up I am so fucking sorryyyyyy)

[astarions-darling]

The Devil's Game Raphael x FemTav Chapter One

Regency AU tags/warnings: no warnings yet. everyone is human. full of cliches :) words: 2323 read on ao3 via source

Miss Tav Larian fears she is running out of options. She cannot let her horrible Auntie Ethel force her to marry the Emperor—her distant cousin who has inherited Tav’s father’s title and estate. But there is no escape…her aunt controls all her inheritance until she either marries or turns five-and-twenty. She cannot wait that long… she has no time and nobody else will marry Tav—Auntie has seen to that.

She has no choice. A desperate plan has Tav sneaking into the House of Hope, the most notorious gaming hell in all of Faerûn, to take a chance at playing cards and winning enough money to escape her Aunt’s clutches.

But can she win the Devil’s game?

It’s Mills and Boon time, lads.

This story, while silly, contains spoilers for the game - mostly the Emperor and who he is.

Everyone is human in this story! But if you want to picture the Emperor as a mind flayer amongst a bunch of humans, go for it. Raphael and Haarlep are half brothers in this story so their relationship is much different to in game. It works better for me plot-wise.

This is also vaguely regency as it’s not historically correct by any means! It’s a world of its own, I suppose. Also I had to give Tav a surname and well…Larian seemed appropriate haha It sounds fancy!

Tav slinked across the wet cobblestones, trying to keep her dress from dragging across the ground—the edges were already wet. A barouche came around the corner at speed and nearly splattered her with mud but she quickly plastered herself against the stone wall of a nearby building. She held herself there a moment, breathing fast as she watched the carriage disappear down the street. Carefully she grabbed the skirts of her dress and continued down the dark street.

The thought of having to explain to Auntie Ethel how she’d ruined her dress was not something she wished to contemplate—she’d probably be locked in her room for a week as punishment if the old hag knew she’d damaged her clothes. Tav didn’t dare entertain the idea of what her aunt would do knowing how Tav had come to get her clothes in such a state. The young woman paused and shuddered at the mere thought. But Auntie Ethel would not discover this insubordination, Tav told herself, as she tried to keep hidden in the darkness of a nearby mass of shrubbery. She glanced down the street and took in the looming building that lay at the end of it.

The monstrous mansion that glittered impressively amidst the lit lanterns of the street was her destination. Even from this distance, Tav could see that the large windows in the building had most of the drapes drawn, but within the ones that were open, they flickered with candlelight and it was possible to catch a moment of movement as silhouettes passed by dreamily. It looked so inviting, so completely enchanting in the moonlight. But while Tav may not have grown up in the city proper, she knew enough that the look of this grand house was entirely deceiving.

Everyone knew about the gambling hell that was the House of Hope, not that anyone would admit to such profane knowledge. And certainly, nobody would let slip they had been there. It was the sort of place people whispered about in dark alcoves or behind their fans if they dared to mention it at all. Usually only the very wealthy or the peerage were allowed in, it was notorious for its selective entry and the things that went on inside...Tav was sure half of the rumours she’d heard about the wretched place had to be false. That had to be one of the only perks to living with Lady Ethel Pearl—that woman seemed to know everything and collected secrets like a squirrel hoarding nuts.

The building itself managed to sit along the bank between the lower and upper city of Baldur’s Gate; easy for those of little standing to be swallowed by and ostentatious enough for the worst kind of the upper class to dare set foot in. Tav knew that If you saw someone you knew in the House of Hope, you did not acknowledge it. You were there to play cards or engage in a game lanceboard, perhaps have a drink. That was all.

Tav watched another carriage trot by, this one at a more measurable pace, the hooves clattering happily against the cobbled street as she steadied her breathing. Her blood thrummed with nervous anticipation at the sight of the gambling hell. You had to be welcomed into the House and her plan to sneak in would surely not be met with any enthusiasm should she be caught. It was no place for a lady—though Tav had heard rumours about Lady Mizora frequenting it. Not that Lady Mizora had a care of being snubbed and was certainly wealthy enough to afford to not give a fig about the opinion of the ton. While Tav may not have been a lady, she had been the daughter of an Earl, before her father had passed. Her family name did mean something and it would damage her to be found in such an establishment. Her ruined reputation would be nothing more than leverage for Auntie Ethel.

Tav sucked in a deep breath through her nose and her eyes glazed over a moment at the thought of her father and the wretched woman he’d entrusted to care for his only child. It felt like she’d been trapped with Auntie Ethel forever. The woman wasn’t even her real aunt, she was her father’s cousin. Tav cursed the day that hag had appeared on their doorstep in the guise of helping her father through his long illness.

Poor Papa.

The street she’d been slinking down turned into a small alley, the end of which her destination glittered. She walked down it carefully, the uneven cobblestones wet beneath her feet. The small amount of gold she had secreted away felt heavy in her reticule as she navigated her way towards the House of Hope. It was not a lot of money, but it would be enough to play a few games of cards inside the house. So many years of playing with Auntie had taught Tav a lot about cards, especially because the old hag had a tendency to cheat. She felt she had a good chance at winning…it was her only chance.

Tav had heard that the Devil enjoyed having many of the high society deep in his pockets and the potential to win enough gold to leave Ethel behind was possible. The proprietor of the hell did not care so much who you were, as long as you had gold…or something of worth to offer if he had already emptied your coffers. He must have a name, Tav supposed as she walked down the alley, but she had only heard him referred to as the Devil.

“Eh, lass, whatcha doing ‘ere all by yourselves?”

The slurred voice startled Tav from her thoughts and she found herself in front of a short, elderly gentleman with a face like a walrus who had appeared out of the darkness. He belched loudly and Tav took a step back as he stumbled, an empty bottle held loosely in his hands before it clattered to the ground and rolled away.

“Young ladies shouldn’t be about all by ‘emselves.”

The man belched again and Tav tried to sidestep him but he grabbed at her cloak, his body swaying with the motion.

“Unhand me,” Tav demanded in the most direct voice she could muster. The man didn’t seem to be much of a threat. He had a melancholic air about him that had her add with a much gentler tone, “Please, sir, I must be going.”

The man peered up at her, his blue eyes bloodshot as if he’d been crying.

“Don’t go there, miss,” he said in a whisper, his eyes darting toward the House of Hope in the distance. “The Devil don’t take nothing.” He tugged on her cloak again and Tav feared the fabric would rip. “He don’t take nothing you ain’t giving. And he’ll make you gives everything you got.”

She managed to pry his grip off of her cloak and quickly hurried away, trying to ignore the prickling feeling at the back of her neck. She made it out of the alley, the cool evening air clinging to her fingers as a low mist settled itself in for the long night. The streets were bustling in this part of the city, though it always felt like Baldur’s Gate was never asleep no matter the time of day. In this busy crossing the streets were full and so she watched as people, some trying to be inconspicuous and some without a care, broke free from the flow of foot traffic to walk through the large open gate of the House of Hope and up to the front door. It was easier to blend in here, with so many people about—nobody was paying her any attention.

Tav knew she wouldn’t be able to get in through the Devil’s front door without an invitation. The large door was flanked by two guards, both looking burly and bored with their trollish appearance. As each new person approached, their name was checked on a ledger before being let in through the large and overly gilded doors. A glimpse of red velvet and glittering candelabras were seen before the doors closed once more. A moment later the doors opened again and Tav watched the guards hurl a man down the marble stairs and into a puddle left from the evening rain. Clearly, his name had not been on the list.

She knew there would be no ‘Miss Tav Larian’ on that list and so she had planned on how to gain entry. For several days she had perused the building on her walks. This wasn’t a bad place for a young lady to walk during the day, and she was never alone—her aunt had her accompanied by her personal maid, Mayrina, at nearly every waking moment.

But luckily for Tav, Mayrina was an utter goosecap. It was easy to persuade the girl to walk around these surrounding streets of the House of Hope on Tav’s daily walk and claim to be enjoying the architecture and surrounding gardens. All the while, Tav was taking note of the servant's entrance at the back of the mansion and how many people in service there appeared to be. She’d seen a few maids and footmen milling about; preparing horses, bringing in fresh food and loads of baskets filled with sheets.

So now it was easy to slip around the side of the building, searching for the servant's entrance she knew was there. When she spotted the open iron gate, she hurried through and was relieved to see nobody else. Quickly, she pulled off her cloak and hid it behind a nearby statue of an ugly-looking imp. She smoothed her dress down—she’d stolen a long apron from Mayrina and had tied it over her day dress—and fixed the pins in her neatly styled hair and put on the cap she’d also stolen from the maid. Her dress certainly was not the right sort of dress for a maid but with the apron and cap, she didn’t think anyone would notice her dress too much. Auntie was always talking about servants and how they were never noticed. Tav could never understand how Mayrina bore working for her.

“You can do this,” she whispered to herself, clutching her reticule tightly. 

It was with a sort of disappointed relief that she found the servant entrance door unlocked. If it had been locked, she could have told herself she had tried and then simply go home. But there was nothing stopping her now. She darted in quickly and waited for the inevitable shout from someone demanding who she was, but none came. There was a young man lounging nearby, idly smoking a grimy looking cigarette. He hastily put it out and looked at Tav with a guilty expression.

“Er, please, don’t tell Korrilla,” he said. “I just needed a quick break.”

Tav raised her chin. “I won’t say anything.” 

The man smiled with relief at her words and Tav tried not to run through the hallway. She passed a few others maids who nodded at her and she returned the greetings. Nobody had said anything! She could barely believe her luck so far, but she did not dare test it. When she came to a set of stairs she quickly ascended until she came to a door which opened with ease as she turned the handle. Creeping through, she found herself on a lushly carpeted floor that was empty of anyone else. Music and laughter greeted her and as she slinked further she realised she had come upon a mezzanine floor. Slowly, she walked forward and peered over the gold balustrade and down below. It was full of people! There were so many tables set up for all different kinds of card games and waiters were walking around with trays laden with champagne. It was like the most raucous soiree Tav had ever seen. She could even spy some men and women lounging together on a settee, sitting far too close than was proper and laughing as they clinked their drinks. Tav’s heart raced when she saw one man slide a hand so effortlessly under one lady's skirt—the woman didn’t even budge! She just laughed again, the feather in her hair swaying hypnotically before she gracefully stood and gestured for the man to follow. Tav watched them as they both drifted off together, arms intertwined, toward a large staircase.

Tav ducked back as the music from below swelled, and in the distance, a champagne cork popped. She’d spotted the cribbage card table and all she had to do was get down there and act like she belonged. 

Easy.

The couple had reached the top of the stairs and Tav watched as they disappeared behind a set of closed doors. She closed her eyes and prayed to any god that may hear her plight and possibly offer guidance. With nothing left to do but either flee or continue with this madness, she steadied her resolve and started to head for the large staircase. Her heart was racing. As soon as she reached the top of the staircase she would remove the apron and cap before stuffing them in a nearby vase. The closer she got the more panicked she became. But she couldn’t leave now. That odious old woman was so desperate to get her to marry the new Earl—her estranged cousin who just happened to be next in line for the title and also just happened to be Ethel’s son. Sometimes Tav wondered if the old woman had poisoned her father and addled his brains to even let him think to give that hag control over Tav and her inheritance.

Too lost in trying not to cast up her supper, Tav failed to hear the door open behind her.

“A lost little mouse is running through the house…”

[n00b-vegas]

A series of BG3!Tibbs sketches

[lurafita]

Raphael is a little shit (and wow, that's an underrepresented trope in this fandom if you ask me). He especially likes to mess with shadowhunters.

Raphael to Alec: "So, what did you get Magnus for tomorrow?" Alec: "Why, what's special about tomorrow?" Raphael: "It's the anniversary of the day he became High Warlock of Brooklyn. He might not say as much, but it's really important to him." Alec, panicked: "I need to go shopping. Underhill, you are in charge!" runs out of the institute Raphael whispers to Izzy: "There is no such anniversary." -

Raphael to Jace: "You know, since Luke is basically Clary's father, and the alpha of the biggest wolf pack around, it wouldn't hurt if you paid tribute to him." Jace: "Tribute? What are you talking about?" Raphael: "You are dating someone he claimed as his child. For werewolves, that makes you pack-adjacent. It's tradition that you offer a gift to both the alpha and the next of kin to your lover. Since Luke is both, you only have to appeal to him in that case." Jace: "Isn't that a little old fashioned? Sounds like a practice from one of those regency novels Izzy denies reading." Raphael: "Oh, because shadowhunter traditions are all up to date according to the times we live in?" Jace: "Point. What kind of gift do I even have to get?" Raphael: "I'm sure you will think of something. It doesn't need to be expensive. Just remember that it has to appeal to his wolf side more than his human side. A pack of bacon, or a raw chewing bone would do." Luke is very confused when Jace invites him to a steak dinner the following evening

[chocolatecatcupcakecheese]

GORTASH REGENCY AU for the wip name ask game! @plethomacademia @orlesianapologist 💞💞💞

I am still in the outlining stages for this one, so I have no juicy tidbits of story to share. But please imagine:

Every single character in fancy impractical dresses for no reason at all, lots of heaving bosoms, assignations in the rose garden, and Gortash scheming to free himself from his manipulative father and make his own life, with a match for love.

An absurdist crackfic featuring:

Gortash as the most eligible debutante of the season.

Raphael as his guardian, aiming to use his son as a political power grab.

Haarlep as his oddly-fuckable, incredibly irresponsible chaperone.

Every other character as Gortash's love interests. Honorable mentions include Childhood Friend The Dark Urge, Disgraced Prince Wyll, Tourney-Champion Knight Karlach, Diplomat Lae'zel, Imperial Court Wizard Gale, and Scheming Rival Lady Orin.

[unreadpoppy]

To Win the Princess's Heart - Chapter 1

Raphael x OC (Genevieve)

Summary: Raphael is a bastard, having no title or land given to him by birth, but he has managed to make a name for himself, gaining success. However, ambitious as he is, Raphael wants to be more than just a wealthy bastard, he wishes to become a party of the nobility.

To achieve that, he decides he’s going to seduce like the most wanted bachelorette in town, Princess Laverna von DeWilde. The only trouble is getting through her older sister, Genevieve, who can see beyond his lies.

(Bridgerton season 2 inspired AU).

A/N: Althought Bridgerton is set in the Regency period, I don't like the regency period, so I tried to go a more victorian era route. Also, I'm not going to be following canon that closely bc then this wouldn't work as I want to. Anyways, enjoy.

Read on AO3

Dearest Reader, 

As we enter the most exciting months of the year, good news have arrived. Her Royal Highness, Princess Laverna has recently celebrated her twentieth birthday, and her parents are already intent on finding a good husband for her. Traditionally, the oldest daughter would be married first, but having seen as princess Genevieve was incapable of forming a match, her sister shall have to fill those shoes. The expectations are high, but as more and more suitors leave the palace with sour faces, one must ask:

As beautiful and charming as the princess is, will she score a husband before the season ends? Or will she fail just as her sister has? 

Yours truly, 

The narrator. 

~~~~~~

The long winter had ended, the snow melting away and allowing the flowers to bloom once more. Spring had arrived, and with it, the social season had begun. During this time of year, the daughters of the aristocracy who become of marrying age would be presented to society, in hopes of scoring a husband by the end of the season. 

Even if the royal family was no longer responsible for governing, that being the Council of Four’s job, they still served a symbolic role, and it was during times like this where they shined. As per tradition, they hosted the first ball of the season. This year, it would take place in the household of Prince Theodore, the King’s fifth and youngest son.

During the ball, the ladies would wear the best dresses they could find, hoping to be asked for a dance. The men would chat and drink, and should someone catch their eye, they would quickly make their way and ask for a dance before any other could. 

One of the gentlemen attending the event was none other than Raphael. A bastard son of the Archduke Mephistopheles, lands or titles were not in his birthright. Everything that he had accomplished, that he owned, the reputation he had, had been of Raphael’s own making, and of that, he was proud. If in the Hells he was seen as nothing more than a half-breed, amongst the humans, he made a fortune providing solutions to any poor soul that found itself in need of help. 

Now, although Raphael was a wealthy man, he still had his ambitions. He wanted to move up in the social ladder, he wanted a title. Of course, being the devil that he was, no king in his right mind would freely bestow Raphael a title. Now, he had come up with a plan to do just that. Tonight, on the opening ball, there was one young lady he would keep his eyes on: 

Princess Laverna von DeWilde. 

She was a half elven maiden, with fair skin, dark blond hair, green eyes and freckles across her face. Tonight, she was wearing a lovely green gown. Laverna seemed to charm everyone in the realm. 

Laverna was also the second daughter of Prince Theodore. Being the beloved granddaughter of the reigning monarch, Raphael was sure the girl could convince her grandfather to make him a duke, if they were to marry. 

Raphael was standing at a corner of the ballroom, sipping on some water and analyzing the people when he was met with an old friend of his, Lady Korilla Hearthflame. She approached him and struck up a conversation.

“Will  you try to fight for the princess’s attention tonight?” The dwarf looked at the dancing floor, where Laverna had been spun by several different suitors. 

Raphael smirked at the question. “It won’t be much of a fight. Look at them. ” He pointed with his chin towards the male guests. “All I need will be one dance with her, and the girl will be charmed.” 

“Well, it wouldn’t be your ‘competition’ that I’d worry about. Her sister’s the bigger problem.” 

Raphael’s eyebrows furrowed with that comment, but before he could ask, he noticed how the current song was nearing an end, finally allowing him a chance to dance with the princess. 

He pushed his way through the mass of men, until he was right in front of her, extending his hand and bowing. “May I have the honor of this dance, your highness?”

Laverna nodded and took his hand. While they danced, he asked. “Tell me, princess, have you found any suitors yet?”

She chuckled. “Plenty, my lord, but none that interested me.” 

“And what would you be looking for? A wealthy man? One who could provide for you?” He spun her. “Or a charming young man, to swipe you off your feet?” In truth, he asked those questions to better know what she would want from a potential partner, so that he could prepare himself. While he waited for a reply, he couldn’t help but feel as if there were a pair of eyes watching him closely. 

Laverna mulled on the question for a second. “I want much more than that. I want love. True love. To find someone who completes me. I know it may be silly, but I want to be courted.” 

“I understand.” At this point, the dance approached its end. They bowed to each other, but before he left, Raphael held one of her hands and kissed it. “I hope we see each other soon, your highness.” 

He noticed her blushing cheeks. “I hope so too.” 

Raphael smirked as he made his way to the garden outside. Arriving there, he found Haarlep passionately kissing one of the guests, a white haired male elf. When the devil made his presence known, by cleaning his throat, the two of them quickly let go. Noticing Raphael wanted to speak, the incubus told the elf “Go back inside, we’ll speak soon.” The man nodded and brushed past Raphael on his way out. 

“Haarlep, I see you already found entertainment here.” 

“What is it that you want, Raphael? Don’t you have a princess to seduce?” They asked, with their back turned to him, clearly annoyed to have been interrupted. 

“I have.” He replied. “And I just finished dancing with her.”

Haarlep turned around. “Oh. And what did you think of her?”

“She is delightfully naive. The poor thing wants to be loved.” Raphael scoffed. “Love. What a terribly human emotion.”

“My oh my, will the great Raphael give up his pursuit then?” Haarlep replied. “Afterall, you wouldn’t be able to provide what she desires.”

“That’s where you are mistaken, my friend.” He faced the incubus. “I’ll make her fall for me, lure her into my den, and only after I get my title, will she realize it was all an illusion on my behalf.” 

Haarlep’s eyes suddenly widened as they looked behind Raphael and quickly exited. 

“I pray that you are not speaking of my sister, my lord.” A female voice, filled with anger,  spoke up behind him. 

When Raphael turned around, he was greeted by none other than Genevieve von DeWilde, the sister Korilla had warned him about. Now, although the two women were sisters, they couldn’t look more different, considering that Genevieve had been born a tiefling. 

She had skin as white as snow, having a fuller figure than her sister, two horns and a tail, light blue wavy hair, and blue eyes. She wore an aquamarine ball gown, along with two opera gloves covering her arms from hand to elbow. 

But most importantly, Genevieve looked at Raphael as if she was ready to tackle him to the ground and suffocate him to death with her hands. 

“Princess, were you eavesdropping on me? How unbecoming of a lady such as yourself.” Raphael raised an eyebrow, trying to get her to leave him be. 

It did not work. 

“You ought to hold that tongue, my lord, or unless you wish to lose it.” Before he could reply, she continued. “I heard what you said of my sister, of your foul plan to seduce her, and I will not allow it.” She said firmly. Genevieve stepped closer, and although she was shorter than Raphael, her rage made her look more intimidating. Were he a lesser man, he’d cower in fear.  “Laverna deserves a good man who will treat her right, and if she wants a love story, then by the gods, I’ll make sure she gets just that.” 

Raphael stood his ground, furrowing his brows as his nose scrunched. “I do not appreciate what you imply, your highness.” 

“I am saying that you are a scoundrel and you ought to stay away from her.” By some strange force, it was as if her voice had boomed much louder. When Raphael looked into her eyes, it was as if they had a small glow to them.

For a moment, Genevieve broke eye contact with him and looked around and then down at her gloved hands. After hearing a few gasps, she noticed her mother at a distance, looking for her. She grabbed his coat and leaned closer. “Heed my warning. Should you try anything against Laverna, I won’t let you live to see another day. Now, have a good night.” She whispered, letting go of him and then turned around and left. 

Raphael brushed his coat down, furious. No one had ever dared to challenge him like that before. But the little altercation of words had given him more motivation. If moments before he could have been persuaded to stop going after Laverna, now he was determined to get her, if only to spite her sister. 

But there was something that left him intrigued. When the tiefling’s voice had boomed, he felt magic in the air. Could the princess be hiding a secret? If she was, he would make sure to discover it soon and use it in his favor. 

For now, he thought it best to leave and start planning his new strategy. 

[sky-kiss]

I have to say that since Rosamund Pike and Charles Dance both have a few period dramas under their belts...this is adding fuel the fire to my very silly little regency/rococo Raphael x Tav AU that I am plotting. Probably rococo since Raphael needs color and embroidery...

Go, my child. Go and do your dark (colorful) work. Use their beautiful faces and voices to inspire you. Also. Send me a link when the time comes.

[crispydonuts]

Found a file in my gdocs of my unfinished (and now deleted) damianya fanfic where they’re adults in the regency era and are in a marriage of convenience hehehaha. This was supposed to be the final chapter and it is incomplete and kinda wanna share it here haha, happy reading!

———————————————————————

It was a fine morning when Anya started to complete some documents that were left by Damian when he went out to war. The tip of her quill hits the paper as she finishes signing some documents, which were needed to be finalized and approved by Demetrius in order to start working on the important deals from across the country.

Today marks two years since the war between Ostania and Westalis has ended. The peace treaty was signed by the kings, Donovan Desmond and his troops were sent to prison for stealing the lands of the west without the country’s knowledge, their unjust treatment towards the citizens, and causing conflict between the two countries.

Anya thought to herself. It has been two years since the countries signed the peace treaty and everything went back to normal…

Two years since she gave birth to Raphael and Roxana, the twins that were once inside her womb are now jolly four year olds that run around the manor’s gardens and bringing noise and laughter to hers and to the servants’ lives.

Two years since she started to take over the affairs of the Forger household and rebuilding the Desmond dukedom from its downfall, alongside being officially named as the grand duchess of the Desmond Dukedom by Demetrius himself.

Two years have passed and still no signs of her husband’s return from war, still waiting patiently for any sign that he’ll return, breathing in one whole piece.

If Anya will be honest, anxiety sometimes waves over her with thoughts that he might not return, or something bad has happened that nobody has the heart to tell her of.

A knock on the door abruptly paused Anya’s thoughts, returning her back to reality where the desk is occupied with paperwork and a quill with dried ink on her hand.

“Come in!” A maid holding a tray that held a familiar black brooch and a letter came in. The maid walked towards the Duchess, placing the tray on the table.

“A letter came in from the military, my lady.” The maid informed her. A letter from the military could only mean two things: the status of a man if he is alive and breathing, or the man is deceased and the body was found after weeks of searching.

“Thank you, you may now go.” Anya replied and the maid left soundlessly to the room. Reaching for the letter, she cradled the letter on her hands like a fragile trinket, feeling its rough texture and the smoothness of the wax stamp in blood red. She reached for the letter knife then sliced the folded paper open, only to present a paper that changed in color due to time. Nervously, she read the letter with care.

To my beloved, Anya,

I snuck into the night to write this letter as a reply to your message from three months ago. Forgive me, my love, that I took a long time to reply as I was still trying to convince myself that I am finally going to be a father of two children. Believe me when I tell you that I was so ecstatic when I read your letter that I have to contain my joyous cries at midnight.

It still feels surreal that in a few months, probably when I get home, I’ll see you holding our children onto your arms with a smile on your bright face… Getting to watch our family grow and watch our children get married…. Oh, just thinking of such things are filling my insides with joy!

The war is still a long way before it ends, most of our men have perished in both painful and painless ways. It was traumatizing to watch such a tragedy in front of everyone’s eyes. To tell the truth, I just want to return home. Although it may sound cowardly of me but this is the truth, all of us don’t want to experience more of this traumatic event where our skin and clothes are tainted with blood from people we were ordered to kill… Because these people have families, wives, children, and friends waiting for them back home, and this fact continues to eat my conscience alive.

I wish I could run away from this place and return home, where you are right now. Maybe if I have the choice to refuse the order to be in war, I would’ve helped you during your years of pregnancy and spend the rest of our lives in bliss and happiness-

[passingbypainfullyaware]

Some Saphael AU ideas and prompts, because there needs to be more CONTENT:

Nurse AU: Simon and Raphael are both nurses in different hospital wards but it literally just this tiktok:

Police AU: Simon and Raphael are detective partners. Raphael is well dressed and functional, Simon is Jake Peralta with a penchant for forgetting his anxiety meds. So naturally, they fall in love.

Roommates AU: Raphael and Simon share an apartment but theyve never gotten along all that well so Simon tends to avoid him. Raphael is packing for his trip home for Easter when the pandemic hits.

Nerd/Jock AU: Simon gets asked to prom… by Raphael… HOLY SHIT! Simon just got asked to prom by Raphael.

Time travel AU: Simon is a time traveller, Raphael is the mysterious immortal he runs into in every now and again in each new time period he visits, like it’s some kind of reoccurring bit. (This is based of of another persons post but I’ve since lost the link lmk what it is and I’ll add it)

Regency AU: Raphael is a desirable bachelor amongst the men of the most honourable nobility, but each expression of admiration and attempt at courting him simply does not seem to bear fruit. Enter Simon, who although is known as the prodigious son of social elites is in reality, a recluse of a man who spends his days tinkering rather than learning social etiquette and proper decorum. Raphael is, quite understandably, enamoured.

Boy next door AU: Simon has lived next to Raphael for as long as he could remember. He’s had a huge crush on him for most of it.

Ghost Hunter (AKA buzzfeed unsolved) AU: Simon is a ghost hunter with his own channel, Raphael is the demon he picked up on the way. Simon walks into haunted buildings and Raphael prevents him from dying, usually he can also be found vehemently denying the very existence of the supernatural whilst alpha dogging the rest of the ghost and demons they encounter into submission.

Country town: Simon is a musician and Clary is an artist, a little time off in Bordertown wouldn’t hurt to get all those creative juices flowing. They enter a quaint little town and interact with the colourful locals. Simon is drawn to one in particular.

Found fam: The Clan is Found Family for Raphael and Simon

Reunion AU: Simon and Raphael return to their old high school with the rest of their graduating class.

[pennylucky]

hot. (raphael)

NOTE: while this particular drabble is not explicit it is included in an otherwise entirely explicit 18+ fic

rating: none word count: 100 pairing: raphael x f!mc tags: regency style eye fucking (originally posted on ao3 oct. 2022)

Summer sun beat down joyously and fiendishly ravaged her flesh in all her blithe human ignorance. As the rest slept with sand in their hair and salt on their skin, Raphael conceded to her request. She perched upon the bathtub’s edge, hair pulled away from newly dampened shoulders, robe slipped down her back for a view of the red glow of summer’s hot fury. Gooseflesh rose as his fingertips spread the sticky aloe across her skin. From one shoulder to the next, from the base of her neck down, down, down… Lingering, her eyes on his reflection damning temptation alone.

[missygoesmeow]

okay so I ended writing a little last night - not Silco but Raphael - and it wasn’t terrible. it’s a silly regency story and ive also put the Emperor in it too haha

[darth-sonny]

in the Regency AU, there's a much bigger age difference between the teetles

[blogdemocratesjr]

PORTRAIT OF A KNIGHT OF THE KNIGHTS TEMPLAR by British School, 19th Century

In the fourteenth century we see Sorat, the adversary, rising up once again.

It was the time when — out of the deepest depths of soul much more than out of orientalism — the Order of the Knights Templar wanted to found a sun view of Christianity, a view of Christianity that looked up again to Christ as a Sun Being, as a cosmic being, a view that knew again about the spirits of the planets and stars, a view that knew how in cosmic events Intelligences from worlds that lie far apart from one another work together, not only the beings of one particular planet, a view that knew about the mighty oppositions that are brought about by such obstinate beings as Sorat, the Sun Demon, who is one of the most mighty demons in our system. What is at work in the materialism of human beings is, fundamentally, the demonic work of the Sun Demon.

It is of course difficult now to consider what might have become of European civilization if that powerful, that externally powerful Order of the Knights Templar — their riches were confiscated, as we know — had been able to achieve its goals. But in the hearts and souls of those who could not rest until the Order had been destroyed in 1312 and until Jacques de Molay had met his death in 1314, in the hearts of those who were the adversaries of the Christ who looked to the cosmos, in these hearts Sorat lived again, not least by making use of the Roman Church's attitude of mind at that time to bring about the death of the Templars. The appearance of Sorat was more visible than it had been the previous time, and the demise of the Templars is shrouded in a stupendous secret. When you can see into what went on in the souls of the Templars while they were being tortured you can gain some idea of how what lived in their visions was instigated by Sorat. As a result they slandered themselves, providing their enemies with a cheap indictment through what they themselves uttered. People were confronted with the terrible spectacle of seeing individuals being unable to speak about what they genuinely represented, while different spirits from among the cohorts of Sorat spoke through them instead, accusing the Order of the most disgusting things out of the mouths of its own adherents.

The number 666 has twice been fulfilled. And now the time has come in the spiritual world when Sorat and the other opposing demons are preparing to prevent the Sun Principle from entering into the earth. Michael, on the other hand, preparing for his new regency, is fighting with his hosts for this entry of the Sun Principle. Michael was regent of the earth before the time of the Mystery of Golgotha, around the time of Alexander. The other archangels then in turn took over from him: Oriphiel, Anael, Zachariel, Raphael, Gabriel. Since the last third of the nineteenth century he has again been regent of the earth in order to continue working in his way for Christ, for whom he worked until his previous regency ended, approximately until the end of Alexander's rule. Michael is on the earth once again, this time in order to serve here on earth the preparation for Christ and for the deeper comprehension of the Christ-Impulse.

—Rudolf Steiner, The Book of Revelation & the Work of the Priest: Lecture VIII

More on the Templar Order: see Rudolf Steiner, Inner Impulses of Evolution: Lecture VI

[veronicaleighauthor]

“Celestial Persuasion”: A Review

Description:

Abigail Isaacs fears ever again falling under the power of love and dedicates her life to studying the heavens. However, upon her father’s demise she finds herself in reduced circumstances and must write to her brother, who has long been away at sea. When instead Captain Wentworth of the HMS Laconia sends a tragic reply, Abigail is asked to set aside her own ambitions and fulfill her brother’s dreams in the Viceroyalty of Río de la Plata. In his relentless pursuit for justice, Lieutenant Raphael Gabay lends his sword to the Spanish American cause. But as he prepares to set sail with the others, he is entrusted with the care of a young woman. She is quite unlike anyone he has ever known, and Raphael begins to wonder whether the brilliant astronomer will see beyond his frivolous façade and recognize his true nature. Their destinies have been plotted beyond the celestial veil; their charts foretell of adventure. Can these two troubled souls be persuaded to heed the stars and find love—and their purpose—in this fledgling nation?

Author Bio:

Mirta Ines Trupp is a second generation Argentine; she was born in Buenos Aires in 1962 and immigrated to the United States that same year. Because of the unique fringe benefits provided by her father’s employer- Pan American Airlines- she returned to her native country frequently- growing up with "un pie acá y un pie allá" (with one foot here and one foot there).

Mirta's fascination with Jewish history and genealogy, coupled with an obsession for historical period drama, has inspired her to create unique and enlightening novels. She has been a guest speaker for book clubs, sisterhood events, genealogy societies and philanthropic organizations. Sharing her knowledge of Jewish Argentina has become her passion.

Besides being an avid novel reader, she has had a lifelong love for choral music and is a devoted Beatles fan. Follow Mirta on Amazon, Goodreads, Instagram, and BookBub or stop by her blog: www.mirtainestruppauthor.com

 My Thoughts:

A couple weeks ago, on Mirta Ines Trupp’s invitation, read “Celestial Persuasion.” Some of her books had been on my to-read list for awhile and this was my chance to be introduced to her work and well, a part of history that I was completely ignorant of. I mean, I’ve read my share of Regency fiction: Jane Austen, Georgette Heyer, Julia Quinn to name a few. But this was the first time I read a Regency era novel from a Jewish heroine’s perspective (years ago I did read a Regency romance from a Jewish hero’s perspective, but it was Christian fiction, so he ended up converting). I really did – and do- adore Abigail Issacs. More than a bluestocking, she is fascinated with astronomy and passionate about education and women forging their way in a world ruled by men. When she finds herself in reduced circumstances and through tragedy, she is presented with the opportunity to make a new life for herself in South America…and perhaps a chance at love.

I don’t wish to give away too much of the plot, so I’m going to focus on what I enjoyed most of the “Celestial Persuasion.” As I mentioned, Abigail Issacs is a wonderful heroine. Intelligent, strong, capable, devoted – someone we all aspire to be. I also appreciate that the hero wasn’t a carbon copy of Mr. Darcy from “Pride and Prejudice.” It seems every Regency romance I pick up has a poor imitation of Mr. Darcy as the hero. Thankfully, that’s not the case in “Celestial Persuasion.” I enjoyed learning about the historical figures mentioned and depicted in the novel. I had never heard of Caroline Herschel or Moses Mendelssohn before this. Then when I finished the story, I discovered that some of the characters shown on the voyage to South America and living in the Viceroyalty of Río de la Plata actually existed. Various Austen characters also make cameos – it was great seeing old favorites again.

One thing I want to highlight about Abigail Issacs and Lt. Raphael Gabay is that they are people of faith. They’re dedicated to their Jewish beliefs. Prayer, Scriptures, discussion of religion, and reverence for God is shown. But it’s done in such a natural way that it’s not preachy, overwhelming, or offensive (unlike some of the Christian fiction I’ve read). Though my beliefs are different, I found “Celestial Persuasion” to be inspiring and the novel encouraged me with my own faith. It’s a clean romance and faithful to that era’s societal customs when it comes to courtship.

Now, onto reading Mirta Ines Trupp’s “The Meyersons of Meryton!” I can’t wait!

[malec-ao3feed]

[Podfic] The Haunting of Lightwood Hall

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/xdOhklj by bonibaru A mysterious death shakes the foundations of one of the Clave's oldest families, and the handsome but standoffish Lord Alexander Lightwood is a prime suspect. Spirits are restless and secrets abound - can the psychic Magnus Bane solve the mystery without putting his own heart at risk? Words: 44, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Shadowhunters (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood, Jace Wayland, Maryse Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood, Sebastian Verlac, Lydia Branwell, Aline Penhallow, Raphael Santiago, Camille Belcourt Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Slow Burn, Protective Magnus Bane, Protective Alec Lightwood, Romance, Light Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Regency Romance, Murder Mystery, ghost story, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Character Death, Minor Character Death, The Main Characters Don't Die, But It's A Ghost Story So, You Know At Least Someone Has Died, Because that's how you get ghosts, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 6-7 Hours, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Read by the Author read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/xdOhklj