#i mean he proposed multiple times to the master

[cactiaintracist]

is it a David Tennant doctor specific thing that whenever the jeopardy gets too high the doctor effectively proposes to his enemy

[strawchocoberry]

MY EMOTIONS ARE NAKED, THEY’RE TAKING ME OUT OF MY MIND

special thanks to @fanouropita ​for contributing to this work

୨୧ featuring: kaeya + diluc, heizou + itto, alhaitham + cyno, tartaglia + pantalone x fem reader 

ଘ cw: smut, threesome, public sex, handjob, nipple play, fingering, oral sex, multiple orgasms, pet names, voyeurism, mild monster fucking (itto & heizou’s part), masturbation, rough sex, double penetration, spanking, dacryphilia, forced orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, degradation kink, dumbification 

୨୧ synopsis: the only thing better than one man is two

ଘ wc: 4.7k

ʚ KAEYA & DILUC ɞ

“Diluc!” you greeted him entering Angel’s Share. 

“Hello, there!” Diluc smiled at you, before his face stiffened like a sour grape. “You’re here too, I see.” 

“Cold as ever,” Kaeya remarked, taking a seat on the bar and ordering his usual glass of dandelion wine. 

“How have you been, Diluc?” you asked, as he served you your drink. “It’s been ages since I last saw you.”

“Same as usual. I was busy in the Dawn Winery. And some other business,” he replied. “What about you?”

“I’ve been trying to lift Captain’s mood here all day, but he’s been difficult to please.” 

“It’s not my fault you didn’t propose anything more fun,” Kaeya defended himself, taking a sip of his wine. “I, on the other hand, gave you a lot of possible ways to entertain me.” His lustful eyes looked deep in yours, as he gently lifted your chin up. 

“Kaeya!” You pushed him away, cheeks blushed red, as he laughed at your reaction. 

“You needn’t worry about him,” Diluc advised you. “Even now that Grand Master Varka left with all the cavalry, Kaeya is just glad he got the chance to be more free of work. He’s just messing with you.”

“You’re no fun, Diluc,” he complained. “I miss that cute little young lad you were.”

Diluc didn’t make any comment; he only looked at the man through narrowed eyes, his gaze threatening. Kaeya innocently smiled at him and drank some of his wine. You sighed, already exhausted by the tense atmosphere between the two. You stayed at the tavern till late at night, currently the two of you being the last customers. Kaeya had been pestering you all night to drink some alcohol and when you finally gave in to his demand, Diluc shook his head in disapproval, already knowing how this was going to end. And he was right, as you got drunk relatively quickly. 

“D-Diluc, have a sip!” You smiled at him, bringing your cup to his lips. 

Diluc only had himself to blame for allowing Kaeya to get you this drunk. And the one responsible for this mess was sitting comfortably on his seat, enjoying his wine, whilst keeping his eyes on the two of you, smirking at how the red-hair was unable to keep you under control. 

“I cannot drink right now. My shift isn’t over. There are customers here,” Diluc tried to explain it as simply as possible so your little drunk self could understand. 

You curiously took a good look around the tavern. “But we’re your only customers,” you complained. 

“Which means that I haven’t got off work yet.” 

You pouted, as Diluc wouldn’t oblige to your request. The next moment, your face lit up, as a thought crossed your mind. Taking a sip of your wine, you cupped his cheeks and kissed him, catching him off guard. Diluc felt the sweet wine inebriate his senses, clouding his mind. You pulled back, giggling at how your plan had succeeded. But you hadn’t really taken the time to think of the bartender’s reaction. Holding the back of your head, Diluc crushed your lips on his, initiating what was going to develop into steamed open-mouthed kisses. 

Feeling left out, Kaeya interrupted you, turning you to him, as he kissed you aggressively, his tongue penetrating your mouth and subduing yours. You felt Diluc rubbing his cock on your ass, as he stole your lips from Kaeya, who focused on your neck. Within mere minutes, all of your clothes had vanished. You were standing there — barely able to stand properly — with both of your hands preoccupied with stroking their cocks. Your moans made them harder, as they sucked on your nipples, biting down occasionally just to hear you whimper. Both of them thrusted one finger each into your drenched cunt, making you lose your mind and unconsciously tighten your grip on them, earning a few guttural groans. 

“Look at you, sucking our fingers in your little cunt so eagerly,” Kaeya taunted, biting your bottom lip. 

“You came so hard, dear,” Diluc slightly laughed, feeling your cunt spasming around him. 

You didn’t have much time to understand what happened. Your hands gripped hard onto the counter, as you felt Diluc immersing into your wet folds, sliding in with ease, before he held tightly onto your hips, drilling his cock in those tight walls of yours. “Archons, you’re irresistible,” Kaeya moaned, rubbing his hardened cock on your cheek, looking down at you with pleading eyes. Opening wide, you welcomed him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around him, coating him with your saliva. He threw his head on the back, your name rolling off his tongue, as you moaned on his cock, feeling Diluc stretching you perfectly, slapping your ass, its print burning your skin in a pleasurable way. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, feeling his fingers rubbing harshly your clit, making your legs weak, almost losing your standing. Kaeya grabbed a handful of your hair and forcefully moved your head back and forth on his shaft, lascivious eyes looking in awe at the stream of tears that fell from your eyes. Holding your head in place, he cummed in your mouth, while simultaneously Diluc pulled out, smearing your ass with his cum. They gave you a few minutes to regulate your breathing, lavishing your body with their marks, before they continued. 

Kaeya lay you on your back on top of the counter, before he climbed up as well. He cupped your cheek and kissed your lips, tasting the remaining flavour of the wine in your tongue. You gasped, feeling him dive into your cunt, having you hold tightly onto each side of the counter, as he pulled back, allowing himself to take in your beautiful face, your lips parting to moan his name. Yet, your mouth didn’t remain empty for long. Diluc was standing on your side, stroking himself, aroused from your fucked out expression. Pushing himself in your mouth, he held your head in place as he rocked his hips, filling you up to your throat, making you gag on his girth. 

Kaeya ravaged your cunt, while Diluc ruined your mouth, making you a helpless mess, desperate for more. You felt Kaeya pressing down on your lower stomach, as he thrusted hard inside you, making it difficult for you to breathe. You couldn’t think, not with the two of them destroying every inch of your body. You moaned as you reached your orgasm, which pushed Diluc to his own release in your mouth, followed by Kaeya who cummed on your stomach. 

ʚ ITTO & HEIZOU ɞ

“Oh well, hello there!” Itto’s face lit up. “It was about time for a few familiar faces to show up! I’ve been bored to death in this cell.” 

“How did you end up here again, Itto?” You sighed, palm to your forehead. “This is what? The third time this month?”

“Actually, it’s the fifth time,” Heizou corrected you. “Did Madam Kujou lock you up again?”

“I only asked her kindly for a rematch,” Itto complained. “She refused, as usual. And when I insisted, that tengu threw me in here!” 

“Sounds like Madam Kujou alright,” you murmured. 

“So, do you two have any news? When do I get released?”

“You will have to wait for Shinobu to come pick you up,” Heizou informed him. 

To say that you were acquainted with Itto was an understatement. You were Heizou’s partner in the Tenryou Commission. You followed him everywhere his instinct led him in search for new cases to solve and evidence to unearth. You were also the one to write apology letters to your superior, Kujou Sara, not to mention plead in his stead for her pardon. And during those few times you actually were in the Tenryou Commission for more than five minutes, you met Arataki Itto. Sometimes when you had time you kept him company, just like right now. 

“It’s so boring sitting here alone.” 

“Eh? Aren’t we here?” You pouted, pulling one of his horns a little hard. 

A low whimper escaped his lips. You noticed how his cheeks slightly blushed, which surprised you. “You shouldn’t have done that, love.” You felt Heizou pinning your body on the bars with his. Taking your shirt off, his hands cupped your breasts, massaging them, pinching your nipples, as he kissed down on your shoulder. “Itto is especially sensitive when people touch his horns,” he explained. 

“I-I didn’t know…” you moaned breathlessly, his lips setting your body on fire wherever he touched. 

“Look how hard he is.” Heizou wrapped his hand on your neck, making you look at the poor oni. “I bet he’s getting so turned on right now, seeing you like this.” 

You gasped, as he completely stripped you off your clothes. Two fingers rubbed your wet folds, making you arch your back to his touch. Heizou slid his fingers in, having you hold tightly onto the bars and squeezing your thighs together. Your eyes were stuck on the hard boner Itto had. It was huge and he seemed to be in a pretty rough spot. Your cunt throbbed only at the thought of it being inside you. You cummed on Heizou’s fingers from that very thought, making him laugh. “You want him, don’t you?” he asked in a rather taunting tone. 

Your body jolted, feeling Heizou push himself in, having you moan at his fingers that were now in your mouth. He thrusted in you erratically, slipping out almost completely, before slamming himself back in, stretching you out ever so well. “You can’t though, not yet at least. This little cunt won’t be able to handle him.” Itto was watching you getting fucked by Heizou, making his boner unbearably hard in his pants. Kneeling in front of you, he kissed your breasts, his hands holding yours, as your moans filled his ears with your melody. He took one of your nipples in your mouth, swirling his tongue around it, whilst stroking his cock. Heizou took you to the heavens, your legs giving out by the intensity of your release. 

And he was right; you weren’t ready for Itto’s massive cock. He lifted you up in his arms, wrapping your legs around his torso, then slowly lowered your body on his cock. You felt as if he was tearing you in half, your grip on his shoulders tightening, your nails scratching his flesh, making him hiss in pleasure. Itto tried his best to ease your discomfort, but if he were honest, he was reaching the end of his patience. He rammed his cock inside your velvet walls as slowly as he could, but the way you creamed all over him had him losing his mind. 

You were crying, not quite used to his size that relentlessly drilled in your cunt. “Is that the best you can do, love?” Heizou taunted, one hand holding onto the iron bars for support, as he used the other to pleasure himself. “And here you were a minute ago, practically drooling over him.” You screamed as Itto hit a spot deep inside you, having your eyes roll to the back of your skull, your breath forced out of your lungs. You looked at his eyes, noticing how he wore a rather sad expression, as if he was regretting having to hurt you. You cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips gently. 

That was enough to send Itto into a rut, him now slamming your body on his cock like there’s no tomorrow. Looking in-between your bodies, you noticed him poking out in your stomach, making you reach your orgasm with a few more of his thrusts. He fucked you throughout of it, his cock throbbing painfully in your spasming walls. “T-This feels so amazing…!” Itto moaned, subconsciously filling you up with his cum, some of it even dripping down your thighs. 

Your mind had gone blank, thinking that he was done. But he wasn’t, not even close. He fucked you raw and rough until you were just a mumbling mess, incoherent words leaving your mouth, your body marked all over by him. He fucked you until your belly bulged from all his cum that coated your walls and he didn’t have any more to give you. When Itto was done with you, you were on the verge of losing consciousness. 

Heizou picked you up and treated your exhausted body. When Shinobu came to pick up Itto, she couldn’t believe in her eyes, seeing the fucked out state her boss was in. Sighing disappointed, she forced him to get dressed and dragged his ass out of the Tenryou Commission from his ear, scolding him in the middle of the streets of Inazuma City. 

ʚ ALHAITHAM & CYNO ɞ

You had only come to Alhaitham’s to return a book he had lent you a while ago. You didn’t expect Cyno to be there with him, the two enjoying a duel of Genius Invocation TCG. You wouldn’t have stayed longer than you needed if it wasn’t for the two of them insisting on it. From what you understood, Alhaitham had acquired a rather rare card and Cyno needed it as if his life was depending on it. And so, the latter challenged him to a duel. Ultimately, Alhaitham emerged victorious from the duel. 

“Oh right!” Cyno lit up, forgetting his defeat, as he turned over to you. “You have another rare card as well, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Then, how about a duel?”

“You really want that card, huh?”

“Of course I do!” 

You couldn’t help but heave a deep sigh. There was no way you could evade Cyno’s request for a duel. Once Cyno was up for a match, he wouldn’t leave his potential opponent alone, not until they accepted his challenge. And if you were honest, there was one super rare card that Cyno had in his possession which you wouldn’t mind winning off of him. The General Mahamatra had no objection to your demand, so you two started preparing for your duel. 

“I’d like to make a suggestion,” Alhaitham announced before the duel started. “Let’s turn this into a little contest among the three of us. Whoever loses one round will go up against the third player. The one with the most losses in a total of ten rounds will be the loser. Two winners, one loser,” he elaborated. 

“Count me in!” Cyno immediately agreed, thinking that this was a good chance of snatching two rare cards in one night. 

“Me too!” 

“Why don’t we spice things up a little more?” Cyno suggested. “The loser of each round will have to get rid of one piece of clothing of the other two’s choice.” 

“No objection,” Alhaitham responded. 

The two were looking at you through half-lidded eyes, waiting for your response. Having already agreed to the match, you thought that you got this and just went on with Cyno’s ridiculous idea. Two rounds in the game, two consecutive defeats caused you to reconsider your decision to go along with the game. They had already stripped you of your shoes and you were anxiously awaiting for what would come next. 

“Take your shirt off,” Alhaitham ordered, looking you dead serious in the eyes. 

You froze for a minute, looking at them staring at you, a hint of impatience gleaming in their eyes. Taking a deep breath, you removed your shirt as ordered, leaving your upper body completely exposed to them. They remained silent for a while, their gazes fixated on your breasts, before Cyno urged you to move to the next round. It was so unlike him to lose concentration, but thankfully that granted you your victory, causing Cyno to lose his headpiece. 

Cyno wrapped up his match with Alhaitham rather quickly, pleased to have acquired the card he wanted, as the defeated removed his coat. You never thought that the day would come when you would see the Scribe waver, but the way your arms squeezed your breasts together as you held onto your cards had him make a grave mistake that cost him that round’s win. You were pleased to see the slight irritation in his face as took his tight black shirt off. Nonetheless, Alhaitham regained his luck in the next round, Cyno losing his belt as a result of his defeat. 

“Remove your skirt,” Cyno demanded of you, as the winner of your duel. 

You did as he asked, sitting now across Alhaitham, wearing only your panties, your thighs squeezed tightly together and your cunt already pulsating. At this point, you weren’t paying much attention to the duel, making one mistake after the other, seeing the two of them smirking at your imminent defeat. You couldn’t help it, though. The expressions on their faces might be rather blank and derived from all emotions, yet their eyes couldn’t hide the lust that burnt fiercely in them. 

“Remove your panties,” Alhaitham ordered. 

You hesitantly stood up from your seat and slightly bent over, as you removed the last piece of garment on your body. Standing up, you didn’t have time to react, when Cyno suddenly crushed his lips on yours, as he led you to sit on your hands and knees on the couch. He rubbed his hardened cock on your cheek, then pressed the tip through your lips. You caught on quirky, taking over the task of sucking him off, rolling your tongue around his girth, causing him to throw his head back, his fingers ruffling your hair. 

A low moan that sent vibrations to his cock made the General moan your name. You were caught off guard when Alhaitham buried his face between your legs, his tongue licking fat strides along your soaking wet folds. Focusing on your clit, he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling them and repeatedly hitting the sweet soft that had your legs trembling, causing you to breathe heavily. Your muffled moans sent Cyno over the edge, as he pulled out and stroked his cock, ultimately cumming all over your titties, listening to your moans caused by that wicked tongue of Alhaitham’s that had you cumming a moment later. 

Lying you on your side on the couch, Cyno lifted your leg up, aligning himself with your drenched hole, before slowly pushing himself in. And as he stretched your little cunt ever so delightfully, you looked up at Alhaitham whose figure loomed over yours, stroking his cock that already leaked precum. You smeared his tip with cum using your thumb, then took him in your mouth. The Scribe felt impetuous, as he grabbed your head with both of his hands, keeping it steady for him to thrust himself inside, occasionally hitting the back of your throat, causing tears to well up in your eyes. 

You didn’t have time to catch your breath after your orgasm, as you were forced to your knees again, Alhaitham was now thrusting his throbbing cock through your walls, holding you tightly against his chest. Cyno cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples, smirking, seeing you wincing and whimpering. He left marks all over your breasts, taking pleasure in how you whined every time he bit your soft skin. Alhaitham rubbed your clit with one hand, whilst thrusting hard into your drenched cunt that clamped down around him, making him groan at the sensation, sending him one step closer to orgasm. 

ʚ TARTAGLIA & PANTALONE ɞ

Everyone was on high alert at the Northland Bank, making sure to put forward their best performance, as Pantalone, the 9th Harbinger and director of all of the bank’s branches, had arrived for an inspection. Currently, Tartaglia was discussing some things with him in his office, while you continued your work as usual. Everything was going well, until you were informed that Pantalone had requested your presence at his office immediately. Not wanting to irritate him by keeping him waiting, you rushed over. 

“You asked to see me, sir?”

Pantalone was going through a couple documents and ignored you. You looked over at Tartaglia who shook his head sadly. A sudden feeling of terror took over your body, noticing Pantalone raising his head from the documents, a malevolent smile curved on his lips. He leant forward on the desk, intertwining his fingers, then finally opened his eyes to look at you. 

“Would you care to explain to me what this exorbitant fine from the Ministry of Civil Affairs is, darling?” 

You reluctantly took the document from his hand and quickly skimmed through it. The Ministry of Civil Affairs had amerced the Northland Bank for conducting illegal business in Liyue without a business permit. Looking back at your superior, you noticed him tilting his head, the same malevolent smile still on his lips, as he awaited for your answer, his patience running thin. 

“I personally delivered all necessary documentation to the Ministry a month ago,” you explained. “And I received the renewed business permit.”

“Then, why would they issue this fine?”

“I-I don’t know, sir…” You lowered your eyes, feeling the anger that exuded from his body. 

“Hmm…” he hummed in a menacing yet amused tone. “What do you think about this, Tartaglia?”

“I find it impossible that she made such a grave mistake, so I suggest we conduct an investigation regarding the matter. I could personally go to the Ministry—”

“Very well,” Pantalone interrupted him. “Send Andrei to deal with this. You, on the other hand, will be staying here. I’m afraid to say that I highly doubt the Ministry of Civil Affairs could have made such a grave error. Which means that this little kitten needs to be punished, so as not to repeat the same mistake again.” 

Tartaglia stepped out of the office momentarily to find Andrei. You were just standing there, head hanging low, eyes stuck on the ground, as you awaited for your superior to announce your punishment. Your body jolted as Tartaglia closed the door behind him, your being scared caused Pantalone to chuckle. He called you over and you instinctively walked up to him, scared of angering him any further with your incompetence. Turning his chair to the side, he had you sit on his lap, running his fingers through your hair, caressing your cheek, taking pleasure in seeing you afraid of him. 

Pantalone tore your clothes, making you gasp. His hand wrapped around your neck, keeping you in place as he hungrily took in every inch of your naked body. He couldn’t help the small intimidating laugh that escaped his lips, feeling your cunt pulsing. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he taunted. You were scared and yet something in the way he exerted control over you, literally having you tremble in his arms, made your mind incapable of thinking a single thought, except for how good his hand that choked your neck felt. “That won’t do, though. Because this is your punishment.” 

He turned you around and you noticed Tartaglia standing before you, already stripped off his pants and boxers, stroking his cock. “Suck him off,” Pantalone ordered. “Now,” he slapped your ass. You bent forward, holding onto the 11th’s thighs, as you gave a long lick to his shaft, before taking him in your mouth. Busy as you were, swirling your tongue around Tartaglia’s cock, you didn’t notice yourself subconsciously grinding onto Pantalone. Only when you felt his clothed boner, drenched already in your slick, did you realise what you had done. 

The 9th leant over you, gloved hands fondling your breasts, his cold rings sending shivers down your spine. His grip was harsh, you felt his rings digging into your skin, causing you to whimper, having Tartaglia groan, as he pulled harshly your hair. He cummed in your mouth, forcing you to swallow it all down, although some leaked through the corner of your lips. Grabbing your arm, he forced you to stand up, then turned you around to face Pantalone. Tartaglia penetrated your tight walls, making you hiss, as you weren’t quite ready to take him in yet. “Fuck— You’re so tight,” he groaned. He bent you over, holding you by your arms, as he thrusted viciously into your cunt. 

You watched as Pantalone discarded his pants and boxers, his cock springing free, hard and the tip coated in his precum. He fondled your breasts again, then slapped them, making you whimper and cry, as you creamed all over Tartaglia due to the stinging pain. Grabbing your hair, Pantalone forced you down on him, your mouth wrapping around his shaft. He shoved your head up and down, hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag on his girth. He climaxed in your mouth, having you swallow all of it. At the same time, Tartaglia, who had been stretching that tight cunt of yours, filled you up and slapped your ass, before pulling out, some of his cum dripping down your thighs. 

You were still panting hard, when Pantalone lifted you up and sat you on the edge of his desk. He spread your legs and looked at the dripping cum from your hole. “I bet I can fill you up even more,” he whispered in your ear. Slamming his cock into your cunt, he ravaged your velvet walls, his grip on your waist bruisingly tight. Tartaglia sat behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other around your neck. You threw your head back on his shoulder, as he started rubbing your clit, whilst leaving hickeys in your neck and shoulders. You whined at him biting your neck, feeling a small amount of blood running down your skin. 

“Even after all your previous orgasms, you still want more, don’t you, whore?” Tartaglia taunted, amazed at how easily he slid inside you. 

“There really is no end to this cunt’s greed, hmm?” Pantalone forced you to look at him by grabbing your chin. 

“N-No… Please… Stop… P-Please…” 

The stretch of accommodating both of them in your cunt was unbearable. It mattered not how much you tried to shove them away, as neither even budged at your pathetic pushes. You were crying, begging them to stop, as you were exhausted from the numerous orgasms they had forced upon you. Your cunt was dripping both of their cum, as they climaxed time after time inside you, competing one another at who would fill you up more. But the only thing your little cries managed to do was rile them up even more. You buried your head on Tartaglia’s neck, feeling them pounding into you, making you lose your mind over the immense pleasure that seized control of your body.

“Sir, it’s Andrei.” He knocked on the door. “I have returned with the report from the Ministry of Civil Affairs.” 

“Yes, please tell me, but don’t come in,” Pantalone ordered him. “I’m a little preoccupied right now to welcome guests.”

“I’ll be quick, sir. It appears that there was an error on behalf of the Ministry. One of their newest clerks accidentally issued the fine to Northland Bank. We’ve already renewed our business permit since last month and all of our activities are legal.” 

“Alright, thank you, you can return to your work.”

Pantalone looked at your trembling body that clung onto Tartaglia’s, biting onto his neck in order to muffle your moans. He kissed your abused body, making you jolt at his tender action. You turned over your shoulder and looked at him through your blurry vision caused by the non-stop stream of tears. Pantalone cupped your cheek gently, crushing his lips onto yours, as he bit down on your lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Tartaglia who was underneath you left affectionate little kisses all over the thousands of marks that they had left on you. You screamed in ecstasy, as they both cummed into your cunt, slowly pulling out and observing it dripping down. 

“It appears you were telling the truth, darling,” Pantalone said in a low voice, kissing your shoulder. Sitting back on his seat, he wrapped you in his arms, gently running his fingers through your hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” 

“I-It’s alright…” you breathed. “I-I had missed t-this…” 

“What a naughty little kitten,” Tartaglia purred, soothingly running his fingers on your body. 

“To make it up to you, the three of us will go on a trip together. You pick the destination. And we’ll heed to your every command.” 

“Mmm… Can’t wait…” you murmured, as you drifted to sleep. 

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[creative-frequency]

Raphael x Reader: Act II: The Dinner, pt.1

Summary: Your patron Raphael invites you for a dinner with multiple ulterior motives. Part 1 of 2. Word count: 2219 Notes: Dinner date with the devil man coming right up 😘

The lanceboard was left in disorder. The white Cyric was toppled by the board. The match between the devil and the most cunning and ambitious tiefling child in the Sword Coast had ended in the latter’s victory – spurred on by some insightful advice from Gale.

You had no idea what a Theskan Double Counter-Gambit was, but you had an inkling that Raphael had let Mol win, just to grow her appetite for triumph. Concerned, but dedicated to not interfering, you looked after Mol as she returned to her friends. You had no right to moral superiority or telling her what to do. If a deal with the devil – your devil patron – was what she thought the best move in this game of survival, then a deal she would make. Just like you had done to survive. You might only advise Mol to read the fine print carefully.

It had been surprising to meet Raphael at the Last Light Inn, though you assumed it shouldn’t have been. No doubt he had something on his mind, and the presumption caused a buildup of anxiety and something akin to a thrill in you.

Raphael seemed to sense that you felt familiarity with Mol’s situation, because he gave you a cursory glance before turning to address Astarion with a pointed finger. What the glance meant, you had no idea.

“Now, let’s talk about you. I sense there’s something you want to ask me,” Raphael mused.

Taken aback, you turned to face Astarion, whose chin lifted up sharply. Gale and Shadowheart shared your impression and traded confused looks. Out of your whole group, you had always been the closest with Astarion. Secrets and thoughts had been shared just between you two, along with multiple bottles of wine. Raphael had not shown interest in any of your companions in your previous encounters, so for him to do so now was… disconcerting.

“I do. I have a…” Astarion hesitated, obstinately avoiding your gaze, “proposal for you.”

“A proposal?” Raphael repeated, clearly intrigued and chuckled. “If you’re hoping to taste my blood, little vampling, think again. It burns hotter than Wyvern Whiskey.”

“This is serious business, devil,” Astarion interjected and proceeded to explain: “My old – well, a long time ago, someone carved some runes into my back. I’d rather like to know what they say.”

Cazador. Astarion was talking about his old master. Alarms blared in your mind.

Raphael let out a long hum and looked more complacent with each syllable.

Right then you also realised why Astarion had been casually asking about Raphael and your contract earlier. He had even said he would like to have a chat with the devil. Completely out of curiosity, of course, and just because he thought the devil rather liked your miserable little group. You should have known the vampire spawn had something else in mind.

“What do you mean? What scars?” you asked Astarion, brows furrowed with worry. He still didn’t look back at you.

Raphael’s eyes glinted with interest.

“You haven’t told them? And you’ve kept your clothes on this whole time? How unlike you,” the devil said, exultant at this revelation of secrecy.

The comment filled your insides with icy discomfort on Astarion’s behalf. You could have sworn Raphael held back the beginnings of a smirk as his gaze glinted over to you.

“That’s enough, Raphael. Can you help him?” you said pointedly. A severe heart-to-heart would be waiting for Astarion at camp, but he didn’t deserve being debased like that.

“I might. If you ask nicely, little raven,” the devil prompted and you rolled your eyes in exasperation. Raphael and his theatrics.

He took another moment to contemplate. Astarion tensed beside you. Gale and Shadowheart monitored the situation, worry etched on their faces.

Raphael finally continued: “It’s something very important to your master. But is it a love letter, a warning, or a deed of ownership? I could give you all the gory details.”

“So you know what it’s about?” you pushed.

“Of course. But, you’ll have to do something for me first.” Raphael tapped his chin in thought, then casually pointed at you – not Astarion. “Let me think about it and get back to you.”

The motion made you feel ever more severely that the line was meant specifically to you rather than your group as a whole. Your pulse sped up.

“Fine,” you replied, cutting Astarion’s attempted reply off and ushered your party to leave. “Let’s go.”

You had just found out you rather hated the idea of your patron tempting your friends into contracts or roping them into acts of service. You didn’t remember harbouring any territorial feelings before becoming a warlock.

After merely three steps, Raphael cleared his throat behind you. It was enough to make you pause since you knew it meant he was not going to let you leave just yet.

“Tav, a word, if you will,” his honeyed voice rang out.

The use of your name shot a thrill up your spine. And the tone he said it in. It was smoother than the sweetest nectar or dark chocolate melting on your tongue. It indicated the transition from business to pleasure.

You glanced at your companions and gave them a reassuring nod, barely holding yourself together. Raphael waited until you were truly alone. Other people had just been going about their businesses in the Last Light Inn, but for the moment, you only saw Astarion, Gale and Shadowheart discussing with Jaheira at the other end of the large dining area. The Harpers were avoiding the little corner Raphael had set up the lanceboard in.

You sucked in a breath full of that scent of cherries, musk and sulphur and the world around you disappeared, along with any irritation you had just felt towards the devil.

“Tell me, O apple of my eye, how have you been?” Raphael questioned, a hand to his chin. “You don’t have any gills to get green around yet, but you do look a bit worse for wear in this light.”

His brown eyes flickered across you, more gauging and analysing than they had been moments ago in the company of others. His next words were added in a carefully crafted neutral tone, but they still served to make you uneasy:

“You haven’t been summoning me in a while.”

In the cold darkness of the Shadowlands, the unsaid words had often burned in your throat and hovered just at the tip of your tongue: Dominus, inferior ad te me flecto inferni. The verbal component to the ritual spell that completed the magic of the focus item on your left ring finger. The ring’s phantom weight made you hide your hand behind you. Raphael and your previous encounters with him had been in your thoughts often. Too often.

You cleared your throat and shied away from his measuring gaze.

“I’m fine,” you said curtly.

Raphael raised a brow in disbelief.

“Was there something you wanted to discuss?” you asked.

“Yes,  though mayhap somewhere better suited. Why don’t you join me for dinner tonight, my raven, after you’ve taken care of everything here,” Raphael ventured with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

A dinner? Your heart leaped at remembering the last time you had visited the House of Hope. How the warmth had radiated off Raphael’s body and how his fingers had travelled over your – well, his – shirt. That shirt you had now tucked away beneath everything else inside your travel chest. It still smelled like him.

More importantly, you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. Daydreams of the dinner he had served you on your first meeting had also often been on your mind embarrassingly often. Not that there was anything wrong with Gale’s cooking but the options were severely limited at camp.

You barely hesitated before replying: “I’d love to, thank you.”

The corner of Raphael’s mouth tipped upwards ever so slightly.

“Until later then.”

And he was gone with the usual fiery blaze. You had a feeling he had just rushed off to prepare for whatever would be waiting for you at the dinner tonight and your stomach twisted in anticipation.

—

Exhausting hours later, your party settled in the safe haven of the camp for the night. With each passing minute, you grew more anxious, knowing you should summon Raphael to let him know you were ready for the dinner. But, before leaving, you had to tell someone you would be away for some time. Maybe even until the morning. The thought made your pulse grow more rapid and your stomach twist into knots that had nothing to do with hunger.

Eyeing tentatively Karlach, you cowardly approached Astarion, who was reading a book. Karlach had thrown a glorious fit about the infernal ring on your left ring finger and the ritual it was used for. (“What the fuck were you thinking, Tav?!”) The situation had evolved into one of the worst arguments among your group and you were not looking forward to another one.

Karlach wasn’t an unreasonable person, but understandably, dealing with devils made her blood boil. She had almost “smacked the shit out of you”, but you had somewhat successfully argued that, while she didn’t have to like the fact that your powers came from a devil, she would still have to make peace with it one way or another. You were not going to forsake your powers as long as the tadpole swam in your head. Astarion had been disappointed to miss the brawl that the argument had – fortunately – never evolved into.

So Karlach absolutely hated the idea that Raphael had you curled around his little finger, quite literally, and you could bear no other explanation than you had made the pact out of necessity and, for the time being, would not consider trying to worm your way out of it – no pun intended. It was somewhat of a shock to find yourself unable to discuss the details of your contract, but what you could explain was that you needed the warlock powers to survive, and you still owed some ration of allegiance to Raphael because he was your patron.

He was your patron. An excuse you had already heard yourself using a thousand times over.

In her rage, Karlach had burned through her own tent and afterwards you had not spoken outside combat in days.

So, you paused in front of the vampire spawn, wringing your hands nervously.

“Um, Astarion?” you started.

“Yes?” he replied, obviously irritated at the interruption and didn’t lift his gaze from the book in his hands. He was likely still cross with you from the earful you had given him after departing from Last Light Inn. What he had been thinking trying to make a deal with your patron behind your back, you didn’t comprehend. There would be more conversations to be had about the topic, but later.

“I’ll be away for a bit,” you said quickly, “Raphael needs me for something.”

Astarion’s head snapped up as if he couldn’t believe his pointy ears. “What?”

“I’ll be back in a few hours, I think. I’ll see you in the morning,” you explained in a tone that hopefully was carefree enough to not warrant any concern. No matter that Astarion’s vampire senses probably caught your accelerated pulse.

“Seriously?” he protested in a hiss.

You shrugged. “I need to hear what he has to say. He is still my patron.”

Shit. The words had slipped out before you could stop it.

Astarion scoffed, rolled his eyes and went back to his book. “I’ve heard that excuse before…” He flipped a page. “Make him think faster about helping me, will you?”

You stepped forward and placed a hand gently over his shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t... trust me enough to tell me about the scars before.” The touch hopefully conveyed more than the words.

He didn’t meet your eyes, but you saw how his gaze glazed over for just a trice. “Well. Now you know.”

“I’ll do my best. Wish me luck.”

“Hah. I’m sure you don’t need luck with Raphael.”

You paced a short distance away from camp, not daring to venture too far away into the shadows. The pitch blackness seemed to breathe around you, impatiently waiting for you to take a step further into its embrace. You had seen how the shadows had snatched a Harper when you first arrived at this cursed place.

With a short inhale you recited the words:

“Dominus, inferior ad te me flecto inferni.”

Warmth filled the air and the sudden smell of sulphur was overwhelming. The ring on your finger felt heavy, almost burning your skin. Your heart thumped uncomfortably and you could feel the blood rushing in your ears.

“Shall we, little raven?”

You spun around towards the voice. Raphael stood there in his human form, dressed more casually than expected. Instead of the elegantly embroidered doublet, he donned a simple, dark shirt. The upper buttons were left open to reveal hints of his toned chest.

You swallowed. Maybe he hadn’t wanted you to feel underdressed in your camp clothing? At least your simple shirt and pants were mostly clean tonight.

Raphael offered his hand for you to take and just as your fingers brushed his palm, you found yourself in the House of Hope.

-

Part 2

My writing masterlist

[beevean]

I went through the trouble of retranslating the MF manga, because you never know what you can find :)

A typical mistake: the translation keeps "Rosaly-nee-chan" as "Sister Rosaly", implying that Ted or all the children she's taking care of are her actual siblings. It confused me the first time around :P

English: "Adrian... Not just Hector, but now you too. Foolish betrayers..."

Japanese: "アドリアン…　ヘクターのみならず貴様までが。愚かな裏切り者どもめ…"

The translation is 1:1, but it's one that contains multiple nuances. Dracula calls Alucard kisama, the suffix ども implies a higher status of the speaker, and the suffix め is even more derogatory. Dracula is mad :)

English: "A great many of us will be coming..."

Japanese: "ほどなく、奴が来る"

"He will be coming soon."

I like the implication that Hector is lumping himself with the demons, but he's clearly talking about Isaac here. What makes it weirder, though, is that Ted asks what he means by "我らの"... something Hector never says. Whoops.

English: "I am the Devil's Sorcerer. At an evil castle to the east of here... I immersed myself in evil, and I commanded evil. My powers attract the ways of the darkness. They are cursed. Although I am human, I acquired the art of creating devils... and there is no doubt that they inflict harm on humanity."

Japanese: "俺は悪魔精錬師。ここより東、魔の城で…　魔を帯び、魔を従え、悪魔を作り出す術を身につけた。俺の力は闇の眷属を引きつける呪われた力だ。人の身であれど、人に害為す存在には違いないな…"

"I am a Devil Forgemaster. To the east of here, in the Demon Castle… I was entrusted with demons and I subdued them: I acquired the art of creating devils. Mine is a cursed power that attracts the followers of darkness. Although I am a human being, there is no doubt that I am a creature that causes harm to people…"

(sadly "followers of darkness" is not quite a reference to the tracks in CoD, the word is different)

The words are rearranged, but they are more or less the same. There are however some significantly different nuances.

One, "evil"/"demon". As far as I know, 魔 means exclusively "devil/demon/evil spirit", so I went with that. This changes the meaning of the verb 帯びる from "being tinged with, being imbued with" to "being entrusted with" (although it is canon that Hector was imbued with evil energy, so both interpretations are technically correct).

Two, the ambiguity of the subject in the last line changes the meaning. In the official translation, 存在 was assumed to mean the devils, and so they are the ones who inflict harm on humanity. But personally, considering the previous "although I am a human"... I think Hector is calling himself a creature that causes harm. Remember: he's really struggling to see himself as a human being :)

A bit of a funny detail: 悪魔精錬士 (akuma seirenshi, Devil Forgemaster) is spelled here as 悪魔精錬師. It's read the same, but the last kanji actually means "master" as in master of a craft, while 士 most commonly means "warrior" and in a suffix it merely means "person with a license". I wonder why this change.

English: "Hector! You disgusting child!"

Japanese: “ヘクター！忌み子め！”

1:1, but TIL that 忌み子 is an actual word that means "unwanted child, shunned child". Which hits even harder :)

English: "He's cursed... poor kid. How horrifying..."

Japanese: “呪われた…不吉な子。恐ろしい…”

"He's cursed... a sinister child. Terrible..."

不吉 means "unlucky", but in the sense that he brings back luck: he's a bad omen.

English: "And you brought home another black cat?! [...] I never should have given birth to you!!"

Japanese: "また黒猫なんて拾ってきて…　[...] お前なんて産むんじゃなかった…！！"

1:1, but Hector's mother uses the expression なんて, which roughly means "something like" and expresses disdain. In case it didn't hurt enough :)

Hector's father is an alchemist, but by looking up the word, I learned that in Japan "alchemist" is also used to disparangingly describe people who want to make easy money, without morals or shame. And the story says that the man was so concerned about power and wealth that the other villagers hated Hector also because of his dad. Huh.

(@the-crow-binary proposed a headcanon that in the past the father swindled a witch to gain money, and she placed a curse on him, which is why Hector was born with his powers.)

English: "When my heart grows weak... the devil comes speaking to me."

Japanese: "心が弱まれば悪魔は語りかけてくる。"

"If my heart grows weak, the demons come speaking to me."

Surprisingly, the nuances of the English translation are vaguer than the original, stemming from how akuma is liberally translated between "demon" and "devil" and the confusion between singular and plural: it's unclear if Hector is talking about the Devil as in Satan, the demon who caused him the nightmare, or even the fairy. The latter is because the word 使い魔 ("familiar") was translated as "servant devil", further muddying the terminology. In Japanese, it's much clearer that Hector is referring to the demons who torment him.

Also this is more of a nitpick, but the ば form implies a more hypothetical condition than "when". It's not a common occurrence: it's Hector's fear.

English: "For someone reputed to be the greatest sorcerer of the dark arts, you look pretty pitiful. I've been wanting to see you, General Hector!"

Japanese: "最強の悪魔精錬師ともあろう者がずいぶん情けない姿じゃあないか。会いたかったぞ、ヘクター！"

"For someone of your standing, the strongest Devil Forgemaster, you look quite pathetic. I missed you, Hector!"

Someone should have given the translator the proper terminology used in the game because they clearly struggled :P

I never liked how in English Isaac sounds as if he never met Hector and he's finally getting the chance to do so, not helped by the mocking "General". The Japanese version goes to the polar opposite: 会いたかった literally means "I wanted to see/meet you", but it can also mean "I missed you", which IMO fits Isaac's way of speaking much more and implies a former closer relationship. i'm saying that he had such an obvious crush that there is no other way to read it

English: "Why? Why do you attach yourself so much to these people? [...] They turned their back on Lord Dracula, who has protected that land for so long. Traitors who bit the hand that fed them!!"

Japanese: "何故だ？何故お前はそんなにも「人」に固執… [...] 長らくあの地を守ってきたドラキュラ様に背き、奥方に手をかけて裏切り者ども！！"

"Why? Why are you so fixated on those humans? [...] They are traitors who went against Lord Dracula, who has protected that land for so long, and laid hands on his wife!"

The English translation has a slightly different nuance: it almost implies that Hector grew fond of certain people, which is not true... yet :P in Japanese, it's more clear that Isaac is just taunting Hector's mercy for humankind as a whole, judging by his emphasis.

Also, as it was already noted, he specifically mentions Lisa in his speech, who was mysteriously cut in the translation.

English: "Otherwise... you'll fall victim to my spear right now, Hector."

Japanese: "さもなくば、今ここで我が槍のサビになれ、ヘクター。"

"Otherwise, become the rust on my spear, Hector."

The English translation works well enough. I just think that expression is raw :P it's expressed even better in French.

English: "It can't be true... there's no way. There's no way Count Dracula could be defeated."

Japanese: “そうだ…　そんな、ドラキュラ様が敗れるはず…”

"That’s right… Lord Dracula must have been defeated…"

... either I'm misunderstanding something, or the translator took some liberties. Not that it doesn't work, actually it might be better... but I'm confused.

A minor note: when Hector is invested by the waves of the Curse, and he hears what appear to be demonic voices, they say "you killed it", as in his cursed power. In Japanese it has no object, it's just "お前が殺した". Killing a power isn't exactly natural, so I believe it's actually Dracula, shown in the vision, accusing Hector of killing him.

English: "Hector, damn you! You, I'll never forgive!"

Japanese: “ヘクター！貴様だけは許さん！”

The English translation always sounded off to me, but now I understand the intent. Isaac is specifically singling Hector out: he's saying that he is the only one (だけ) he won't forgive, even though he has realized that Trevor has killed Dracula. But without italics it's hard to convey this emphasis on "you", so I can't blame the translator too much.

(extremely minor note, but Isaac switches from omae to kisama the moment Hector makes his Peak and Raw speech. Which is to be expected, of course. The weird part is that he uses omae again when he rants "if you and I had been there, Belmont wouldn't have...!". An involuntary request for camaraderie?)

I just noticed that the official translation, when describing the aftermath of Trevor's victory on Dracula, calls him "the young lord of Belmont". In Japanese it's simply "若きベルモンド家の英雄", "the young hero of the Belmont family". accidental nfcv foreshadowing?

English: "You alone always kept yourself looking human!"

Japanese! "お前は昔から…　自分だけいつまでも人間のような顔をして！"

The English translation is very literal. I think I would translate this as "You always were the only one who kept yourself human!", even if literally it means "you alone always had a human-like face!" lmao

(also notice the omae again. It's as if Isaac can't be too derogatory on Hector when speaking in the past)

English: "You possessed more powerful sorcery than I! And you were able to get closer to Count Dracula over me!!"

Japanese: “俺より強い魔力を持ち、俺よりドラキュラ様の近くにいながら...!”

"Even though your magic is stronger than mine, and you were closer to Lord Dracula than me...!"

That "even though" (ながら) subtly changes the nuance. Isaac isn't just venting: he's confused as to why Hector, despite being Dracula's special boy, insisted on "looking human", or clinging onto his humanity.

As I pointed out here, chapter 4 is not called "redemption", but "atonement". The two words have slightly different nuances :)

When Rosaly tells Hector that the priest has spread the news that Trevor saved everyone, she speaks in a respectful way. She calls Trevor "Belmont-sama", calls him an exorcist, ("悪魔払い") and uses keigo when talking about his feats ("救って下さった"). It's cute and it shows how much Trevor is respected for his feats :)

English: "It might not be a bad idea to stay here for a while in this sunny place..."

Japanese: "ほんの少しだけこの日だまりに身を置くのも悪くはない。"

"It wouldn't be bad to stay under the sun for a little while..."

Kind of. 日だまり means "sunny spot". The translation works perfectly fine, and it paints Rosaly's house as a warm, happy home... but I think this is meant to be a callback to the first page of this scene, Hector standing under the shadow and Rosaly dragging him to the light. Hector is finally accepting to stand under the sunlight :)

[absent-o-minded]

Jesper and Inej Deleted Scene - Analysis

Scenes get cut for various different reasons, whether it comes down to lack of episode/season placement, running times, not fitting an intended vibe/tone etc. However, that doesn't mean that some resigned part of me will not be upset that this scene was not included, because it instantly became one of my favourites of S2.

So, here are some thoughts:

A beautiful thing about Inej is that she only lets others know of her presence should she want them too. She is a master of anonymity. Multiple times throughout both seasons, we see this happen. In the very first episode of S1, she lingers by the window, an implicit signal to Kaz that she is present. It also echoes in her choices to be deliberately known of, such as in S2 with the taxidermist, where she intentionally makes her entrance known, instead of slipping in through some crevice. Always, her choices are driven and deliberate.

Throughout both the books and the show, Jesper is constantly spooked at Inej's sudden appearance. He is a character who is constantly in motion, so the art of invisibility is something he reacts to. But this is the first instance where he is not surprised. From the dialogue, "You're not coming back to Ketterdam, are you?", he already anticipated that Inej was leaving. He also, in knowing Inej, knew that she wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.

I think it's partly because Inej wanted Jesper to know that she was there, and what she was there for, but also because this moment was not a surprise. To anyone. Back in S1, Jesper already says "I don't have a say in what you do with your shot of freedom." As much as Kaz gives him slack for being impulsive, for missing the small details, Jesper foresaw Inej leaving way before Kaz did.

"I was already the looks of the operation, guess I'm going to have to be the heart too."

I love this line so much. I think it captures not only their relationship, but also their positions in the Dregs/Crows as a collective unit. Inej's heart is big enough to swell an ocean. It's repeatedly spoken about in the duology how Inej was the clue to the whole gang. She was the clasped hands, the tape, the glue and the bridge, holding everyone together. This is why everything goes into disarray when she is taken by Jan, and why certain pairs reach their most tense. Her unwavering faith, and her hope, and her rational, is just part of why the Crows survive the broken world the way that they do.

But, this also references that Jesper was very much secure in not being the heart of the operation, because he doesn't see himself fit to be that. Or more so, he doesn't give himself the credit that he could equally be the heart of the operation. He dismisses his contributions under the usual humorous guise, playing his role for laughs. He tries to deflect from sentimentality in the same way that he tries to avoid any emotionally charged moments.

What he doesn't realise is that it's that same humour that breaks the tension, that offers a comfort amidst certain doom, that serves as a catharsis to bracket everything in between. And that in all of his worrying of 'Can they see right through me?', Inej did something worse. She saw him.

I think that for Inej and Jesper, they are a comfort for one another. Most noticeably because Inej feels comfortable enough to cry in front of Jesper. One of the strongest forces allowing herself to be vulnerable, because she trusts him.

It's also interesting that Inej decides to cover her face, or to obscure her expression whilst she cries, because it suggests that there is still a barrier. Amita mentioned in a panel how Inej's trauma is always at the forefront of her mind, and through choosing to cover her face, it harks back to the repression of emotion that Inej was forced to learn in order to survive at the Menagerie. All of the feigned emotions, the expressions that were purchasable, the proposed fantasy that choked the reality, all of it bleeds through.

You can argue that through being the glue, Inej is given some sort of an unfair burden, but it's important to note that whilst she may be the glue, every other member is a stick that holds her up. They all bat back at Kaz when his reluctance to communicate and stubbornness takes over: "Is Inej going to be okay?", "You know, Inej took some serious damage.", "You might want to keep your Wraith grounded for awhile."

This scene is just so OJSW''LLDJIOEJ GOD-

Jesper's initial response to Inej standing and walking over to him is just to stand there. He makes no hurried movements to immediately comfort her, nor does he step away to give some supposed space. He stands, staring at her face, to give her a moment of un-broken presence. But also, he is considerate of the temperature of the moment. Perhaps he isn't sure what to do with himself in a moment like this, and for once is worked into stillness. Perhaps it's because he respects Inej's choices, both with her life and with her relationships, and let's her have control over any physical affection. Maybe, he's just trying to prolong talking with her, to savour it.

I just think that her scrunching her fists in his waistcoat and gently tugging him forward is such a brilliant show of their brother/sister relationship. It's childish. It's wholesome. It's an action that young children will do, but it fits so well.

You know when the found family starts found family-ing? That's the good shit.

Initially, I had to go back through the books to see if I had missed Harij as a character, but then remembered that one of the changes they made for the adaptation is to give Inej a brother. It could've just been added as an additional motive for Inej to go looking for her family, but I think that it's interesting how it changes the relationships of the OG Crows with Jesper, because both Kaz and Inej now have a brother. In a way, Kaz and Inej are grounded on the fact that they are given the same thing worth fighting, even killing for. More importantly though, they both have something to mirror Jesper.

They both see him as a brother. Kaz, in his own cynical and not entirely healthy way, models Jesper after Jordie. He rinses Jesper's impulsivity because he is worried about where it might lead him. He delivers him hard truths to protect him. He loves him, but will never say it outright - "Tell Jesper that he's missed. Around the Slat."

In being taken away from her brother, Inej has followed the same thing. She doesn't say, "But you, Jesper, are my brother too" because she doesn't need to. He is categorised as closely as family. It's ironic, in this scene, because Inej hopes to "reunite" her family, but in doing so, she has to separate herself from her second family.

For both of them, Jesper fills that tiny void. They see their brothers, both the lost and the gone, in Jesper's unrelenting closeness.

I am....unwell over this screenshot.

Physical affection and intimacy, regardless of its intention or form, is so complex when considering Inej's trauma. "Even now, a boy will smile at me on the street, or Jesper will put his arm around my waist, and I feel like I'm going to vanish."

Initially, Inej doesn't immediately respond. In a sudden burst of decisiveness, or comfort, or guilt, Jesper hugs her tightly. Because of their height difference, he has to physically bend down to do so. And Inej doesn't, or rather cannot, return it without registering it first. (I love the hallucination scene as much as the next person, but I really do feel like it was a missed opportunity to delve into Inej's backstory).

But then, she does. She shows strength in allowing herself to have this moment.

Inej Ghafa, who once said that she would never miss Ketterdam, now saying that she will miss what, or who, was there.

I just think that this is so lovely in illustrating how close Inej and Jesper are, and how in pursuing her own life and reaching far beyond what was chosen for her, Inej is still anchored in her love for her family.

And again, Jesper deflects with, "Oh yeah. Course you will." because he doesn't want himself to stint Inej's life further. He doesn't want to prevent Inej from going, or for her to be far out at sea, ruminating over how she misses them all. If he had explicitly said, "I'll miss you too", I think that it definitely wouldn't leave Inej's mind. It's too close to his heart to admit that he'll miss her just as much, maybe even more than she could, if that's even possible. Even in the ASOCAS2 Panel, Kit said that without Inej, Jesper would be an emotional wreck.

There is a sort of unspoken understanding that passes between them. She knows that he won't say it back, otherwise it's too real, too fresh, and he'll have to confront the fact that she really is going. He knows that she really means it.

This sequence of affection only further solidifies the trust between the two, but it also shows that to compensate for his lack of words, Jesper kisses the two places that are most significant - Her hand and her head.

It's this subtle signal that Jesper appreciates Inej most for not what she represents (sincerity, hope, the last ounce of good in this broken band of dolls) but for what she does. The hand that prays and wields the knife. The same hand that holds him. The head that remains hopeful. The same head that rests against him. It's a really beautiful moment. Whether it was intentional or not, we will never know.

I also think that this moment is important for Jesper in terms of trust. He is so often left out of the loop, or doubted before he has even begun, that his trust starts to waver. But, to know that Inej is comfortable enough to let herself be vulnerable, to trust him enough to say goodbye, is a comfort for him. Jesper is a secret sentimentalist. He may use humour as his mechanism, but beneath that, he will cherish that Inej let him properly say goodbye.

"Where're you going now?" / "To say my prayers"

For once, Inej leaves in the open light, and Jesper watches her go. There are no shadows for her to slip into. There is only the sun, the open of the hills, and Jesper, stood by rocks. Inej's faith is so integral to her character, and I was really happy that this was not dulled down in the book to screen adaptation process.

Jesper just clicks his fingers and nods, looking down at his feet. He would never ask her to stay. That is the arc that is reserved for Kaz, who is initially selfish but desperate, but then grows to actively help Inej achieve her freedom.

The issue is that Jesper is usually the one who walks away. But this time, he is having to watch his closest friend do it. And it's like watching a sister leave.

It's all shits and giggles until the comic relief breaks down.

Unlike Inej, Jesper waits until she is out of ear-shot, walking down the hill or turned round the corner, for it all to come out.

But even then, it's stifled. It's like he's gripped by his sadness suddenly, like Inej physically leaving opened some repressed emotion that Jesper knew was bubbling to the surface, but was trying to keep down. He suddenly feels the weight of her absence. He realises the potential that he might never see her again. He wipes his hand over his face, he scratches at his neck. Her departure is already itching away at his skin. Everything comes in one big wave, like he was trying to will it into not being permanent, but knowing that it very well might be.

I also think that this ending is great, but Jesper can't use humour to distract himself. After the hallucination scene in Ep6(7?), Jesper comes to and then asks if anyone else's dream was one of "happiness or joy", which clearly, was not the case at all for any of the other Crows. But here, in this secluded part of a hill, Jesper is left out in the open and unravelling.

______________

For me, one of the main appeals of the Crows is their relationships. I love the romantic ships as much as the next fan, and I think that they are so nuanced and well-written. But, I also love the Crows for their fearsome friendships.

Inej has incredible friendships with pretty much every crow which is shown in numerous brilliant moments in the books, but there are some great and (probably) underappreciated platonic relationships like: Kaz and Wylan ("You're letting shame decide who you are."), Jesper and Matthias ("I can hear you, Fahey"), Nina and Kaz ("Talk to me when you've done something about that terrible haircut") etc etc

[two-red-lungs]

Hey I loved your Marko headcannons 🖤 Do you have some nsfw headcannons about tall dark and handsome Dwayne?

(Bursts through the door like the Kool-Aid man) OH DO I EVER!!! Listen I love Paul and Marko and David, they are my blorbos, my boyfriends, but DWAYNE. I would PROPOSE to him. Husband material.

TLB Dwayne NSFW Headcanons

Okay, let's get the basics out of the way. Sex is gonna be rough, occasionally aggressive, and potentially deadly but hey?? If you wanna fuck a vampire that comes with the territory

Out of all the boys, he and David are probably the hardest to bed TBH

Where as Paul will throw himself at anybody, Dwayne kind of looks down his nose at a lot of humans. There are not a lot of people up to his 'standards' and he's pretty jaded about mortals in general

Because "they all die in the end, anyway."

But if you catch his interest? Oh no baby I am so sorry you're gonna need a wheelchair by the time he's done with you

Insanely intense. Ridiculous amount of patience, fucking phenomenal self-control (sexually, hunting is a whole other deal), the stamina of a goddamn greek god (and the abs of one lmaooo)

Breeder. Breeding kink for days especially if you're a woman. This man will fill you and keep you as full of his cum as you'll let him

Extends to cockwarming. He adores it. Loves feeling you squirming on his cock, devolving into a begging mess asking him to just move

All about the timeline: Dwayne doesn't have a lot of sex but when he does, it's an all-night event. It's a whole thing. Bring water.

He's very big and very strong and he will use it. Enjoys pinning/bending/folding his partners. Wall sex is a fave. Expect to be held up by nothing but his arm strength at some point.

Definitely a dom. I usually think most men are a mix of dom and sub but not this guy. The most submissive he'll get is power-bottoming and letting you ride him cowgirl-style, but even then he's got a handful of your hair in his grip and he's purring

Speaking of noises, not super vocal. Like Marko, he's more animal than man in the sack. Growls, purrs, snarls, hums.

Has a daddy kink because of the breeding kink

He's meh about exhibitionism and public sex. I mean, he WILL fuck you in public, but he'll fuck you anywhere because he does not give a shit. For him sex is more about what he's doing to you, not the environment.

Enjoys emotional sex: angry sex and makeup sex especially

I have great/terrible news. Dwayne's nickname is "horsecock" because he's hung like a stallion. Like that thing is a monster. If you're under 5 feet tall you'll die

The amount of prepwork needed??? For that beast??? Insane. Real talk sometimes he'll have to fist-fuck his partners to get them ready

Master of eyesex. He'll just lean back against a wall far away, and pin you with a stare so intense you're sweating and blushing

BIG fan of multiple orgasms. He'll dedicate entire hours to it, just to see how many he can wring out of someone. His record is eleven.

While Paul is Laddie's best friend, Dwayne does most of the actual parenting: so if Laddie needs literally anything, sorry, sex is getting rescheduled

Can fluster people really easily. He's just big and dark and silent, but his touch will legit set you on fire. Always seems to know exactly where to touch someone

Grazing fingers behind your neck, dragging knuckles up the inside of your thigh on the boardwalk, etc. You are HELPLESS you are WHIPPED for him in 10 seconds

He and Paul actually do a lot of honeypotting for the gang

Not a big fan of oral. Prefers penetrative sex and it absolutely shows: his thrust/hip snap technique is 👌. Can find a G-spot like a goddamn metal detector

Favorite thing is turning his partner into blabbering, drooling, exhausted putty in his hands. A different sort of sadist than Marko. He wants it to feel so good it hurts and you're crying for mercy

Loves partners begging. LOVES it.

Dwayne is an ass man. I will not elaborate

Out of all the boys, the line between hunting and fucking is the most clear for him. You always run the risk of dying, bedding a vampire, but you're safest with him

David likes to get rough in the bedroom and so does Dwayne, but in different ways. David likes to slap, and Dwayne likes to crush. Likes a nice hand on your throat, or putting all his weight on you as he fucks down into you, watching you struggle to breathe under the force

He's one of the strongest vampires, so you will be bruised. Anywhere he grabs you, bruised. Ass? bruised. Neck? Bruised. Cervix? Sorry bestie that's bruised too. Buy some ice packs.

TL:DR a very hard man to bag, and if you do, expect to get folded like a greeting card and have your organs rearranged for three straight hours until you're stuffed like an eclair. If, somehow, you manage to still walk afterwards, don't ask for a phone number. He doesn't want you to contact him again: not unless he's fallen in love with you. And that hasn't happened in three hundred years.

[fruitydemogorgon]

A Character Analysis of Bob and Mike

And (mainly) what it means for Mike and Will

The parallels between Bob and Mike are made quite obvious for casual viewers in the show. They're both head of the AV Club, interested in science and puzzles, etc. But, I wanted to look a little further into their similarities because I believe we can understand Mike and his relationship with Will a little more.

The Crazy Parallel

There's a popular motif in Stranger Things revolving around the word crazy. Specifically, it's definition. For multiple reasons, the word crazy symbolises in love.

In s2.ep2, as the kids are trick-or-treating and Bob and Joyce are dancing together, Bob proposes that he and Joyce move away to Maine together. Joyce is initially wary of this, and Bob dismisses it as a crazy, drunken idea. Joyce states that "It's so hard to explain", and "This is not a normal family".

Later, in the same episode, Mike and Will have their 'crazy together' conversation. The scene starts with Will trying to explain the 'feeling' to him. Mike doesn't understand initially, but quickly catches on as Will describes it as being like a 'View Master caught between two slides'. Throughout the conversation, Mike tries to finish Will's sentences, showing him how desperate he is to understand Will's explanation.

Mike asks him if it's "Like the doctors say, all in your head?" Will replies saying he doesn't know. Proceeding to instruct Mike not to tell the others, because they wouldn't understand.

Mike then says "Eleven would".

This all builds up to the famous:

"I don't know, sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy,"

"Me, too"

"If we both go crazy, we'll go crazy together, right?"

"Yeah, crazy together."

This conversation parallels three romantic couples from the show; Bob and Joyce, Hopper and Joyce, and Jonathan and Nancy.

Firstly, as I stated earlier, Bob and Joyce also discuss being 'crazy'. Joyce says that Bob won't understand, that it's not a normal family. However, in s2.ep5, after Will is admitted to hospital, Bob finally understands. This is similar to how, in Mike and Will's conversation, Mike doesn't understand what Will is trying to say at first, but figures it out eventually. Bob says he's crazy, but Joyce can't reciprocate it.

Next, it has multiple parallels to Hopper and Joyce.

In season 1, Hopper, amongst practically everyone else, believes everything Joyce is saying about Will is just all in her head. Later in the season, they talk about living a normal life, and feeling safe. Hopper and Joyce, in season 3, talk about going crazy. However, there are multiple times throughout the show where miscommunication (not understanding one another) leads to them fighting.

Finally, Nancy and Jonathan, the couple they parallel the most. Nancy was initially with Steve, who she could fit into the 'societal norms' with, before she got with who she truly loved; Jonathan.

Flo told Nancy that "Only love makes you that crazy, and that damn stupid."

And, in season 3, when they're fighting, they say:

"I guess we just don't understand each other anymore".

Here, we see the Three Rules for Love in Stranger Things:

You must defy the norms if you want to find who you truly love

Communication and understanding are key aspects to a healthy relationship

You are crazy together

The only pairing in the show that demonstrates all of these requirements is Mike and Will.

Let's check how they fit into these rules:

In the 80s, a gay relationship was not considered normal. Mike is convinced by pretty much everyone that he romantically likes El (Lucas, Dustin, Nancy).

Mike and Will clearly understand each other throughout the show. They have trust and faith in each other (Obvious in season 1: Will telling Mike he rolled a seven, Mike believing that Will can hide from the Demogorgon).

"Yeah, crazy together."

Let's check how M!leven fits into these rules:

Mike's clothing reflects his parents in s3, representing him following the normal. His Mom, Karen, falls for someone named William, straying from her socially acceptable relationship.

There is a major lack of communication between El and Mike. In season 1, it takes them a long time before Mike actually wants her to stay with them. In season 2, Hopper is the main cause of their miscommunication, however El still spies on him and doesn't communicate with him properly when she can. In season 3 it is most obvious. Their conversations are filled with missing pieces and unresolved complications, El spies on him, etc. El doesn't even understand when Mike is trying to tell her he 'loves' her, even after she overheard him saying it in Hopper's cabin. At the end of season 3, Mike doesn't understand what she's talking about when she says he loves her. The lack of understanding and communication is an extreme focal point of their relationship.

They are not crazy for each other. When Mike tries to tell El he's crazy (in love), she doesn't understand. When Mike tries to tell Will he's crazy (in love) he understands completely. He also is wrong when he says "Eleven would (understand)", because she doesn't understand when he tells her he's crazy (another point of not understanding).

They don't. As simple as that. Lots of relationships reflect Mike and Will's, but none compare to it.

The IT Parallel

When Will is having dreams of the Mind Flayer, Bob believes he can help him. He reminisces of when he was a child, and had nightmares about a clown.

This is a noticeable parallel to IT, where Finn Wolfhard (Mike) plays Richie, who is tormented by Pennywise (a clown). At one point in the film, Pennywise is chasing Richie, telling him he "knows his dirty little secret" (his attraction to his best friend, Eddie Kaspbrack).

Bob advises Will to, rather than run from his nightmares, tell them to go away. He tries doing this, but fails and is caught by the Mind Flayer.

If Bob is symbolising Mike, he is telling Will to suppress his feelings (tell them to go away), like he (Mike) did, but Will fails. Mike manages to direct his feelings for Will onto El, but Will can't run from them.

The only thing that needs to be resolved between Mike and Will is their disagreement in season 3. However, I will mention a few things about the fight:

Their fight is not cut off (like M!leven 'love' confession scenes).

There is nothing major left unsaid (aside from an apology).

It is not a lack of communication and understanding, but a lack of resolution (which is common amongst healthy ST couples).

This needs to be resolved, though, in order for them to return to a healthy relationship. It is likely this will be the conflict early on in season 4, and once it is resolved their romantic relationship will be more unavoidable (in a positive light, though. Not unavoidable with 'no option of divorce').

Mike and Will check-off the Three Rules for Love:

Not normal

Understanding

Crazy Together

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Why was Gilgamesh so obsessd with Saber? What did he see in her that he legit waited for her 10 years to come back?

I'm pretty sure that he would have dropped her in the moment she agrees to marry him so.....was the chase this exciting to him?

The Muffin, Fate, and You

Anon asks about the Nasuverse, which is a sprawling multiple anime, video game, visual novel universe usually with the title "Fate" where you can summon historical/mythological figures to do battle for you over the Holy Grail which may also be the source of ultimate evil if corrupted.

I'm one of those heathens that only respects Fate/Zero, which is the prequel series to the original timelines of Fate/Stay Night, Fate/Ultimate Blade Works, etc.

I've tried other franchises in the multiverse aside from Fate/Zero, I couldn't do it. I'm sorry guys, to me, they are complete trash and unworthy of contemplation.

And guess which one you're asking about, anon?

Alright, Alright, I'll Try

Arthuria Pendragon is one of those strange, rare, people who fully embodies an ideal (in this case chivalry and the divinely anointed king). However, because of this, she is a failed king in that while she inspired her people she ultimately failed to keep them, was betrayed by those around her, and had little to no understanding of what it means to lead a nation.

Alexander the Great points this out to her and pities her for it, he believes she'd make a far better vassal under his command than a king in her own right.

Gilgamesh, however, is fascinated.

Arthuria is such a tragic figure to him, a classic tragedy given form, and one who never quite breaks even when the results of her efforts are shown before her.

This is the shit Gilgamesh lives for.

He wants to see just how far Arthuria can be pushed before she crumbles. And, if she never does, if she retains this hopeful naivite and someone worthy of being presented Excalibur in the face of everything that's happened, then she is something truly extraordinary.

Gilgamesh lives in a world that bores him in which the people he tends to meet, for this or that reason, are all the same. There are a few who stand out of the crowd: Kirei Kotomine in the depths of depravity and pure evil the man is capable of and Arthuria Pendragon on the opposite end of someone who despite everything refuses to be anything less than infuriatingly noble.

He knows, as of the end of Fate/Zero, that he will see her again when the next Grail War comes about. What's ten years for one of the most interesting people he's met? Who, the last time he saw her, was utterly betrayed by her master, faced her underling who she learned she'd driven utterly mad, etc.

I think his marriage proposals were actually quite genuine in that Arthuria was just that interesting to him.

[textribe]

Plural of Half: Everything You Need to Know

The word "half" is a fundamental concept in both language and mathematics, often used in daily conversation and academic contexts. Its significance lies in its ability to describe a division of a whole into two equal parts, a concept critical in various fields such as mathematics, science, cooking, and everyday life. Understanding the plural of "half" is essential, as it frequently appears in both spoken and written English. This article delves into the plural form of "half," exploring its correct usage, common mistakes, and answering frequently asked questions to aid language learners and enthusiasts in mastering this aspect of English grammar. The Singular and Plural of Half - Singular: Half - Plural: Halves The word "half" becomes "halves" in its plural form. This transformation occurs due to a rule in English language where nouns ending in -f or -fe often change to -ves in the plural form. Examples include "knife" to "knives" and "leaf" to "leaves. Understanding Half Definition of Half A "half" refers to one of two equal parts that together constitute a whole. This division is not just numerical but can also be qualitative, representing an equal division of an entity or quantity. Usage of Half The usage of "half" extends beyond simple numerical division. It is often used in expressions like "half-hearted" (indicating lack of enthusiasm), "better half" (referring to a spouse), and "half-baked" (meaning incomplete or not fully thought through). Use of Half in Sentences - Quantitative Example: "She ate half of the pizza by herself, leaving the other half for her friends. - Qualitative Example: "His explanation was only half-convincing, leaving many skeptical." - Idiomatic Usage: "After years of partnership, he considered her not just a friend, but his better half." - Comparative Example: "To save time, they decided to split the work in half." - Expression Usage: "His proposal seemed like a half-baked idea, lacking in detail." Common Mistakes and Confusions - Incorrect Pluralization: Using "halfs" instead of "halves." - Misinterpretation: Confusing "half" (50%) with "part" or "portion," which can represent any fraction. - Colloquial Usage: Mistaking idiomatic expressions like "half past" (referring to time) for literal half divisions. Commonly Asked Questions - Why does "half" change to "halves" and not "halfs"? - This change follows a common English language rule for words ending in -f or -fe, where they often change to -ves in their plural forms. - Can "half" be used for both countable and uncountable nouns? - Yes, "half" can modify both countable nouns (like "half a cake") and uncountable nouns (like "half a liter of water"). - Is the use of "half" in time expressions like "half past ten" considered plural? - No, in such expressions, "half" is used in its singular form as it refers to half of an hour, not multiple halves. Conclusion Understanding the plural form of "half" is crucial in mastering English grammar. The transition from "half" to "halves" is a common grammatical rule that, once understood, can be applied to similar words. This article provides a comprehensive guide to using "half" and "halves" correctly, enhancing communication skills in both formal and casual settings. Remembering these guidelines ensures precise and effective language use, an essential skill for both native speakers and language learners. FAQ What is the plural of "half"? The plural of "half" is "halves." Can I use "halfs" instead of "halves"? No, "halfs" is not the correct plural form of "half." The correct plural is "halves. How do I use the plural form of "half" in a sentence? You can use the plural form "halves" when referring to more than one half of something. For example, "I have two halves of an orange. Are there other ways to express the concept of multiple halves? Yes, besides "halves," you can also use phrases like "more than one half," "several halves," or "multiple halves" to express the idea of more than one half. What are some interesting facts about the plural of "half"? The plural form "halves" can be traced back to Old English, where it was spelled "halfo." Additionally, the word "half" does not follow the standard rule for forming plurals in English, as it does not add "s" or "es" at the end like most nouns do. Read the full article

[ultramagicalternate]

ULTRAMagic Interlude Chapter 18

Previous | First | Next

Master Post

“Don’t worry, Dunja, I’ll be right here with you” Englehart reassured as the two stood outside the throne room.

She took a deep breath. “Right… this feels strange…”

“There’s nothing to fear. In fact, I went out of my way to keep your seat in tip top condition.”

“Really? Did you anticipate me coming back?” Dunja received a look that said “yes” in the most blunt way possible. She opened the doors and was overwhelmed with a wave of nostalgia. “You know what? I missed this place.” The two sat down at their thrones, with Dunja letting out a massive sigh of relief.

“Shall we start today’s royal court meeting?”

Dunja paused for a second, then nodded. “Sure.”

Englehart focused for a second and sent a cloud of blue energy from his hand that went over to a device on the far wall. A bell began chiming with a light calmly turning on and off. It was a neat little system that alerted the royal court to when Englehart wanted to conduct a meeting. This had been implemented after Dunja left, in case an emergency had arisen. It was the brainchild of Radovan and Rose and worked fantastically throughout the years. Soon the Duke and Duchess, the councilors, and Blood-Wraith arrived, taking their seats after greetings were conducted.

“Well ain’t this a site for sore eyes; A court meeting with the queen,” Drazhan pointed out.

“Indeed, general,” Radovan agreed. “The past couple of days have been quite the wild turn of events.”

Octavius had a bewildered look on his face. “Honestly I thought the next time we’d see Dunja would be with her and Gratiana storming the tower. I’m glad that didn’t come to pass…”

Dunja laughed. “Octavius, trust me when I say Torunn would have never let that happen… Hey, where’s Barna?”

“Sorry I'm late!” He announced as he entered the room. “I heard the alarm, but I was in the middle of showing Aureolus a welding technique.”

“No worries, brother. We haven’t quite started yet either way” Englehart assured.

“Well before we start, since we have a lot to discuss, I have a question for the king,” Rose stated.

“Go ahead, Rose.”

“In regards to Kresimira and Corentin, will you be presiding over my daughter’s wedding?”

Englehart nodded. “Indeed. This has already been arranged. Given that Corentin will be ready to take the throne if anything should happen to Dunja and I, I figured this warrants my presence, haha.”

Something occurred to Blood-Wraith. “Wait a second, what about Barna? Couldn’t he take over if need be?”

“Two reasons, lad: one, I still don’t have a spouse. Two, I’m a blacksmith and a farrier, not a ruler” he replied.

“Englehart has tried to convince Barna multiple times, son,” Radovan added. 

“On what? Getting married or succeeding the throne?” Drazhan quickly cut in. This made everyone laugh.

While Barna shook his head, Dunja pounded her fist on her arm rest. “OH! Shoot, I forgot about the thing… oh boy…”

“What is it, dear?” Englehart inquired.

“It’s that thing I mentioned at the colosseum yesterday…” She took a deep breath. “Everyone? I did something questionable in Shadowland.”

This caught everyone’s attention. “I don’t mean to be rude, your majesty, but hasn’t that been the case for at least the past decade or so?” Drazhan pointed out.

“Ah…you… well played. Ahem, I mean I did something that Milosh suggested, aside from the whole overthrow The Iron City bit…”

Theobold rubbed his temples. “I can’t wait until we are rid of that heathen…”

“...I created a son of me and Englehart through void magic.” This shocked everybody, with some nearly choking on their spit.

Englehart looked at his wife with wide eyes. “I was not expecting this… I’m going to need a bit of explanation.”

Dunja took another deep breath. “So that rat Milosh, being obsessed with subversion and whatever nonsense ideology he’s peddling this week, proposed that I create an “heir” to ruin Englehart’s reputation…”

“Outsiders…” Barna grunted.

“... Dunja, how did he expect you to go about doing this?” Caius questioned.

Dunja groaned. It was something that made her cringe just thinking about it. “That impotent freak originally wanted me to sleep with him…”

“I take it the rumors are false then? That you slept with Milosh?” Englehart asked, his tone indicating that the subject had been bothering him for some time.

“Do you know how badly I wanted to behead that liar over his claims? In hindsight I should have… Whelp, might as well get this off my chest: The other rumors that I spent a few nights with Andelin and Gratiana are true. I’m not proud of it, but at the same time…” Radovan cleared his throat loudly, pointing to Blood-Wraith who was starting to look nervous. “RIGHT! Too much information…”

Truthfully Englehart was not bothered by this revelation. They were not Milosh and Dunja could not conceive a child with the two women… hopefully. “You mentioned void magic, dear. How did that play into this plot of sorts?”

“My plan B. Despite all of my shenanigans, I did not want my first child to be with anyone but you… I’m aware of the irony in hindsight. I still felt loyalty to The Iron City deep in my heart… So I cast a spell that called on the potential for us to bear a child. What appeared was a young man named Albrecht Schindewolf.”

Everyone appeared to be deep in thought over this. Englehart could feel his heart ache a tiny bit. “What happened to the boy?”

“I quickly realized that I couldn’t use him in Milosh’s braindead scheme. He was too pure and even I knew that was too cruel. Before he had become fully cosignant, I gave him the pseudonym of Allan Erkstrom and left him with Torunn. Furthermore, I implanted false memories that he was an orphan drop off. And since this was after Torunn had left us, Milosh naturally tried to reprimand me… I responded in kind by threatening to execute him and ordered him to drop the plan all together.”

While everyone was relieved, Barna had a feeling of familiarity. “Wait, hold up a second! You don’t mean our Allan, do you?”

“Yup.”

“Huh… jeez, I always wondered why he looked and sounded like a Schindewolf…”

Englehart was still a bit worried. “I presume he’s doing well, brother?”

“Oh absolutely, the lad’s doing fine. Claudius has praised his hard work and I’d say he’s got a knack for leadership.”

“Then we shall make that another priority for your upcoming mission. Dunja, can you bring our son home?”

“Absolutely. He’ll be here safe and sound.”

Something about this was not sitting right with Regnault. “That’s all well and good, but Dunja; You’re implying he may have formed an attachment to Torunn. How do you plan to deal with that?” It was a valid point and Theobold nodded in agreement.

Dunja thought for a moment. “Well, I did consider dissolving the Blades and reforming them, with Torunn being one of the new members.”

Blood-Wraith was intrigued. “Does that mean they’ll work with us?”

“I have no idea, Blood,” Dunja answered as she slouched on her throne. “Torunn? Probably. Andelin? Hard maybe. Gratiana? I have no idea. She stuck with me back in Shadowland, but she was also the most proud and most likely did that because she could not stand Milosh.”

Octavius looked around at the others. “Well I trust you and Barna will figure out the best course of action for this predicament. If you’ll pardon my judgment, I’d dare say this subject has run its course for now. There are a bunch of potential decrees we still need to discuss…”

“Right you are, councilor” Englehart confirmed. “We’ll have to put a pin in the Shadowland discussion for now…” Rose handed him several papers that he then handed to Dunja. “Now my dear, would you like to do the honors?”

She felt a little embarrassed. “Aw shucks, let’s see then…” Dunja looked through the documents as she sat upright. “Now what’s this about a Trench Unlight?”

“Ah yes, Thora and I discovered the old research of Deimos and established communication with a team tasked with exploring this new realm” Rose replied.

“Uncle Deimos is looking for new people to explore the Abyssal Unlight since the old crew has been at it for too long” Blood-Wraith added.

“Alright then, I’d say this is a go,” Dunja decided.

“Abyssal Unlight expedition volunteers is now pending” Radovan stated. “The council shall now vote. All for? Any opposed…? Decree passes 5-0 vote.” He then stamped a paper on his table.

“Hey, wait! Can I vote on the next one?” Blood-Wraith asked.

“I… don’t see why not. Your majesty?” Octavius responded.

“Since most of the current matters are straightforward, I’m fine with it. Radovan? Rose?” They both nodded.

Blood-Wraith looked very excited. “Alright, so what’s next?”

Drazhan cleared his throat and crossed his fingers. “I’d like to bring up our resource concerns. We’re not running out, far from it… but the great hunt did cut into our supplies. I don’t want to go anywhere near The Roaring Mountains and it feels wildly inappropriate to go pester our newfound woodland neighbors. What I’m thinking of is Deadman’s Pass, on the way to Shadowland. There’s a whole bunch of resources on our side… that were seized by Milosh. I was just thinking since we have the queen back under our wings…” It was abundantly obvious what he was indicating.

“Um, yeah… forgot about that. By all means, have at it… I just need to get rid of the spell I put on the area to protect it” Dunja replied.

“Well that’s no problem as we can take care of it on the way to Shadowland” Barna pointed out.

“Alright then, Deadman’s Pass resource acquisition is now pending” Radovan stated once again. “The Council shall now vote. All for? Any opposed…? Decree passes 6-0 vote.” The paper was stamped once again.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly from that point on. The majority of the issues were things that needed to be tackled because of the Great Hunt. All of it was fairly uneventful, but Blood-Wraith did not care. He was just happy to see Dunja happy. She was legitimately enjoying being back with her friends and family. After the meeting, Dunja and Englehart went for a walk around the city while Radovan and Rose took Blood-Wraith home. They were very proud of him for the discipline he displayed during the meeting.

“Girls? Anyone home?” Radovan called out as they entered the mansion

Dragoslava appeared from the hallway. “Hey dad, hey mom… Blood! Just who I wanted to see. Where were you? I’ve been looking all over for you…”

“He was at his first, proper royal meeting with Dunja today” Rose answered. “We allowed him to vote on the decrees and he did an excellent job.” Blood-Wraith looked really proud.

Dragoslava smiled. “Well then, you become more of a knight as we speak. Blood, would you like a present, a sort of really late birthday gift?”

“A present? What is it?”

“Well come with me and I’ll show you…”

“Since you’re doing that, I’ll go get the kitchen ready” Rose said as she began walking in that direction. “Honey, could you go fetch Kresimira, Corentin, Valentina, Vexation, and Aureolus?” She asked Radovan.

“Certainly. Should I also invite Barna and Corentin?”

“That would be lovely. Drago, is Desislav here at the moment?”

She nodded. “Yup, I’ll send him to the kitchen when we’re done…” Dragoslava called out as she led Blood-Wraith down the hall.

Dragoslava’s room was quite spacious, but this was primarily because she had been clearing it out. Either way, it was quite big and cozy. Her desk was on one side while her bed was on the opposite. Blood-Wraith liked it alot as it felt very welcoming. It definitely needed some decorating, however. At the far end near the window was Desislav, standing next to some boxes. He was looking a lot better than he did a week prior.

“Hey, Blood! Have we got a surprise for you…” he announced as he pushed a box over.

“Ooh, what is it, what is it?”

Dragoslava opened it up and revealed it was full of action figures. “Here you go, my old toys, just for you…” She could see his eyes light up, which made her feel warm and happy.

“Oh cool!” Blood-Wraith exclaimed as he picked up the golden action figure and began messing around with it. “Thank you, sister! Are you sure you want me to though?”

“Yes. Trust me, Blood, they’re just going to sit around collecting dust… plus I need the room. I figured you and Aureolus can have fun with them.”

Desislav chuckled. “Also it’d be a little strange for a grown couple to have a bunch of kid’s toys laying around.”

“Ha, I see… Hey, what about that dragon toy?” Blood-Wraith asked, pointing to a shelf.

“Ah, him… that one I’m going to hang onto, Blood,” Dragoslava answered. “He’s a bit special.”

Blood-Wraith realized why this was the case. “Oh… here, let me do something real quickly…” He got up, went to the toy, and waved his hand in front of it. A shadowy dragon figure made of metal appeared around it in a flurry of sparks. It was like it had always been a part of the action figure. “There we go!”

Dragoslava and Desislav were amazed by this transmutation. Dragoslava then went to inspect it. “Incredible… Blood, since when did you get this good? Also jeez, pull at my heartstrings much? Haha.”

Blood-Wraith chuckled. “No idea, it just came to me.”

Next: Chapter 19

ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)

[reidjumpers]

Sunday Afternoon

Spencer Reid x (implied) BAU!Reader

Warning: none! pure fluff, Spencer made a joke

Summary: Spencer asking you whether you want to have kids someday or not.

Note: again, as I said before, Dad!Spencer concept is something personal to me. This is him discussing with you about building families and having kids. AGAIN I'm no longer asking, I want Spencer to become a dad. Thank you.

“Do you want to have kids someday?”

You popped one eye open upon the question, your gaze meeting Spencer’s distracted face. He was staring into the television mindlessly that showcased a Master Chef episode. You had been hooking him up with some mindless TV show just to fill the time lately. He had never been a fan, but he strangely enjoyed Master Chef and The Great British Bake Off the most.

“Huh?” you shifted on your spot. Your head was on Spencer’s lap, and his fingers dutifully scratched your scalp soothingly just the way you liked it.

“I’d love to have one someday,” Spencer continued, ignoring your confused look and question. “I always wonder what it feels like to have a sibling. Or siblings.”

“You spent three Christmases in my parents’ house, you basically have a glimpse of what it feels like to have siblings.”

Spencer snorted. “Yeah. It’s always fun to see how you manage to find anything to argue about with your sister.”

“Or fight the remote with my brother,” you rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips quirked up at the thought.

Spencer laughed this time. He gently grabbed your hand and entwined your fingers together, bringing it closer to his lips to plant a soft kiss on your knuckles. Silence fell upon you comfortably, in such familiarity that didn’t leave you suffocating. You practically could see his gears turning inside his fast-paced mind, thinking about everything and nothing.

“I would love to someday,” you mused. Your finger mindlessly made a soothing circle pattern on his palm, indicating that you were thinking and rambling.

“To have kids?”

“Hmm-mm.” You gently pushed his arms away to sit up. Spencer gently pulled his arms away, eyes staring at you getting comfortable on your seat. You let out a sigh, hand loosely toyed with the hem of his hoodie. “Maybe two or three kids. Nothing more than that.”

“I want a house full of kids.”

“Spencer Reid, that means I have to get pregnant multiple times. I am not going to push that many babies of yours out of my body,” you deadpanned.

Spencer, however, grinned widely. “My babies?”

You could feel your face warmed up, but you fought it with an eye roll and a huff. “If you think I’d willingly carry any man’s baby that’s not yours, you’re crazy.”

Spencer laughed, “Are you proposing to become the mother of my children?” he grinned, so wide and childishly that you couldn’t help but to smile back. You still wanted to smack his head, however. “Is that what you’re implying?”

“Unless you have another person in mind, then yes.”

“I can’t think any other person that I’d partnered up to raise a child with.”

“Partner?” you cocked an eyebrow.

“Isn’t that what we are?” Spencer’s corner of lips quirked up in a teasing smile. “A partner? Co-workers?”

You snorted. “Co-workers that sleep together for three years, spend every holiday together, move in together, and get engaged a week ago?”

“Exactly.”

“Then we’re one hell of an amazing partner,” you whispered, caressing his face and smiled when Spencer immediately melted on your touch. “In my professional opinion, we’d make an amazing team to raise a child together.”

Spencer sighed. “In my professional opinion, we should get married.”

You smiled. “Too bad somebody already put a ring on me.”

Spencer laughed, shaking his head. He gently covered your hands on his face, thumb so slowly brushing your knuckles. “How mad do you think our friends would be if we run away to Vegas now and get married?”

“I think it’s my mom we should be worried about,” you laughed. “And Penelope. She’d terrorize us. And I don’t want to think about what she’d do in order to get us to throw a party.”

“I don’t need a party. I’d marry you here and then, I’d marry you in the bullpen if I have to.”

“Spencer Reid, I’d marry you in a dumpster. But we already have a venue waiting to be visited next weekend,” you gently reminded him.

Spencer wrinkled his nose. “Gross. But points taken.”

You laughed, and couldn’t help yourself to press a kiss on the tip of his nose. Spencer squeezed his eyes and scrunched his nose adorably in response, then managed to whine that you didn’t kiss him in the right place. You ignored his whine in favor of munching on a snack, and Spencer spent ten minutes pouting like a little kid.

You could imagine it as clear as the day, this place filled with laughter and a pitter patter of small feet running around the place. You could see Spencer beaming and being a loving dad, you had seen it almost every weekend with his godsons. You could see a future with white picket-fences together with him, a happy one that you deserved.

You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life together with him, that’s for sure. But you still had a wedding to go through, and you decided you’d go one step at the time.

[angelasscribbles]

Bad Romance Chapter 26: An Audacious Proposal

Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Multiple

Paring this chapter: Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

Song Inspiration: The Phoenix by Fallout Boy

So we can take the world back from a heart attack One maniac at a time we will take it back You know time crawls on when you're waiting for the song to start So dance alone to the beat of your heart

Hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out? I'm gonna change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix Wearing our vintage misery No, I think it looked a little better on me I'm gonna change you like a remix Then I'll raise you like a phoenix

Word Count: 3,627

Warnings for this chapter: Riley might or might be plotting a murder 😂

My other stuff: Master List.

Drake didn’t turn when he heard the door open. His back was to her, and he already had a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. “Why are you here?”

“Because you need me right now.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. I know this whole thing has shaken you, Drake. It’s ok to have some feelings about it.”

He snorted as he turned toward her. “That’s the problem though. I don’t feel bad about it. Not even a little.” He threw the drink back in one gulp and looked at her with pained desperation in his eyes, “And I should, shouldn’t I?”

She closed the distance between them and took his face in her hands. He tried to look away, but she pulled his face around and peered into his eyes, “Listen to me. What would have happened that night if you hadn’t come to my rescue?”

“I….don’t want to think about it.” He blew out a breath and leaned his forehead against hers, his arms going around her as he gazed back into her eyes, an ache in his chest.

“Exactly. You protected me, you defended me. And if I weren’t the queen in waiting right now, if I were still just some random American foreigner, if I didn’t have Liam backing my play, backing you, if I didn’t have Rashad to call on to help you, if it had just been you, a commoner, who had killed a nobleman over me, another commoner, what would have happened?”

“Best case? My career would be over. Worst case? I’d be sitting in a jail cell for the rest of my life.”

“That wouldn’t be justice. Tariq deserved what he got.” She practically whispered as she traced a finger down his jaw.

His eyes ran across her face wondering what kind of world they lived in that Tariq would have gotten away with it and no one would have cared if not for the fact that a king was in love with her. “But the justice system would only see that someone like me, who they deem worthless, killed someone they deem important. No one would care what he did to you. Just like they didn’t care about Sierra.”

“Exactly. You understand why you aren’t sitting in a jail cell right now, don’t you?”

He let go of her and stepped away, “If you expect me to feel beholden to Rashad, I don’t! That’s the problem with the nobility. I only needed help from someone like him because of the way the whole system is set up! Not blaming him, he’s a good guy but-“

She grabbed his arm to stop him from pacing, “No, Drake. That’s not what I mean at all! All your life, all my life, we’ve been at the mercy of people like Tariq. But it doesn’t have to be that way, not anymore. You’re not just getting your job back; you’re getting power that you’ve never had before. When you were in the Royal Guard, you answered to Bastien, you had a chain of command, rules to follow. You were still just a cog in their machine. I’m offering you your own command. As the head of the Queens Guard, you’ll answer only to me. And I’m not planning to control you.”

“I’m not one of them. I’ll never be one of them, I don’t want to, and I refuse to-“ He started to get agitated.

She cupped his face and drew his attention back to her again, “I’m not asking you to. That’s not what this is.”

“What is it then?” His hand came up to cover hers, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand.

“You won’t be one of them, I wouldn’t ask you to. But you will be above them. Out of their reach. In fact, you will have the power to arrest anyone in this country aside from members of the royal family. For the first time in your life, you’ll have more power than any of them.”

“I don’t really care about having power.”

“Sure you do. Not because you crave it, not because you would abuse it. But because it means nothing they do or say can touch you. Because it means you can protect those you care about. It means you can do whatever you want, within the confines of the law of course. Maybe even finally get the answers you’ve been looking for all your life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean….you told me once that you were never satisfied with the story about what happened to your father and as a guardsman, you learned that his file was sealed. As one of the commanders of the royal guard, you’ll have full security clearance to read whatever classified documents you want and the authority to reopen any cold cases you deem fit.”

“I…I could investigate my father’s death?”

“If that’s something you want to do, yes.”

“And you’re not afraid that will distract me from my primary duty?”

“Of protecting me?” She muffled a laugh, “I think you’ve more than proven the lengths you’ll go to protect me. I have no doubt that you can put together the best security detail Cordonia has ever seen, investigate your father’s death, continue to put away copious amounts of whiskey and keep me sexually satisfied all at the same time.”

That pulled a grin out of him, “You sure have a lot of faith in me.”

“I do. Glad you finally realize that.”

“You paint a lovely picture.” He said wistfully.

“We’ll be a team, Drake. I know you don’t want to rule or be associated with the nobility in anyway, but you can help me identify needs and work on solutions for the common people of Cordonia. You’ll have the career you deserve, the answers you’ve always wanted, a way to help the common people and me. We can have it all, we’ll be an unstoppable team.”

“But Liam-“

“Is the reason for all of it. I can give you everything I just said and more, but only because Liam is giving it to me. I know how you feel about me marrying him, but if you could put your jealousy to the side for a minute and really think about this, you’ll know I’m right.”

“So, what, you’re just using him?”

“I didn’t say that. You know my feelings for Liam are complicated. But you love him too. He needs a queen he can trust to have his back. Liam is smart and he’s a brilliant statesman. He doesn’t need help to run this country, but he is required to marry. I’ve no doubt that if he had to marry someone like Madeleine and spend the rest of his life watching his back, worrying about her true motives and loyalties, he could. But he shouldn’t have to, and he wouldn’t be happy. Doesn’t he deserve to be happy?”

“He does. I just hate that that means happy with you.” He sighed as he pressed a kiss into her forehead.

“But can you see how this…for lack of a better word, alliance, benefits us all? Not just you and I. Liam gets the queen he wants and needs, but I’m only that if I have you in my corner. I know he doesn’t see it and I know you don’t really believe it, but it’s true. He needs me and I need you. The three of us, Drake, are an unstoppable team. But only if we’re together, all of us.”

He considered what she was offering and what she was asking for in return. The career and answers about his father aside, she was offering him herself. A chance for them to be together in the only way they really could. What she was asking in return, was that he had to share her. Which he’d been doing, just not voluntarily.

He had seriously considered just leaving. Going to Texas, or off grid in the mountains for a while, or even following Kiara across the world. Because the only way he was going to stay away from her was to be away from her. If he stayed at the palace, if he stayed in the royal guard and especially if he took her up on her offer to head up the Queens Guard, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away from her. He couldn’t. He had tried, many times, and failed.

“There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.” She said as she took his empty glass and walked to the drink cart.

“What?”

She poured two glasses of whiskey and walked back, handing one to him, “Justice for your sister.”

“I told you, they found the guy not guilty, and he can’t be tried twice for the same crime.”

“Who’s talking about a trail?”

He froze, glass halfway to his mouth, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, who’s to say what could happen to him if he accepted a private invitation from a lady and agreed to meet her alone in a secluded location?”

Of course, he’d thought about delivering justice with his own two hands, it had been the only thing he’d wanted to do in the immediate aftermath, but he’d had his mom and Savannah to comfort, take care of. Bianca had begged him not to retaliate, she said she couldn’t take losing another child, not even to prison.

“So, you’re saying, if I take you up on your offer-“

“Oh, God, no, Drake! I wouldn’t make something like this contingent on anything. This offer is good whether you decide to take the commission or not.”

“Riley, baby,” He shook his head, “I can’t ask you to risk-“

“What would I be risking, Drake? No one will know. He sounds smart enough not to tell anyone that he’s sneaking off to meet the king’s fiancée, come on. We’ll just make sure it’s you on my detail that night-“

“You know you have to have two guards at all times, minimum.”

“Fine. Is there anyone you could trust to-“

“Yep. Marco.” He said with no hesitation at all.

“Marco Rossi?”

Drake nodded.

“He’s one of my favorite guards. He lets me get away with stuff, he’s sweet and polite but serious, a little sad.” She mused. He’d been there the night Tariq had died, he’d been the one to drape her with a robe, the one Drake had trusted the blackmail pictures to.

Not that it had mattered. Copies of those pictures had ended up in the Cordonian Star anyway. Tariq hadn’t been working alone.

“Yeah, he hasn’t been the same since Sierra.”

“He knew her?”

“He was in love with her. They were dating, we all assumed an engagement was coming. Marco would definitely be ok with….this.”

“So, it’s doable?”

“You know I’d be the prime suspect. Especially after Tariq.”

“I’ll be your alibi. You, me, Marco…we’ll be each other’s alibis. You can both leave your GPS trackers and coms at the palace, so the tech will show that we were here the whole time.”

“The palace has cameras…”

“Which can be disabled, or footage scrubbed, or we just don’t leave from here. We do it on one of those endless tours, at a stop that has low security.”

“Wow…you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have. Sierra deserves justice. You deserve peace. Besides, if he did it to her, he’s done it to others and will keep doing it. Someone needs to stop him. Why not us?”

He regarded her seriously for a long moment. “I don’t know, if it went wrong, you could be implicated-“

“I’m not going to be implicated. I’m less than a month from being the fucking queen. No one is going to question me.”

“I don’t know, Riley, it’s a lot to consider.”

“Well, think about it. The offer stands, and there are no strings attached to it.” She understood he needed time to process the idea.

“Ok…I’ll think about it.” He was far more tempted than he cared to admit.

“Ok. One last thing about the position I’m offering you….”

“What about it?”

“I have a list of men I’d like you to consider for my detail.”

“Wait, was all that talk about needing me for real or do you just want me in this position because you think you can control who I pick?”

“No, I know you better than that. You’ll be in complete control of your command. I trust your judgement, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be making the offer. Besides, if all I wanted was control over who got assigned, there are plenty of officers I could pick who wouldn’t have a problem with me choosing the entire team they lead.”

“But the list-“

“Are merely suggestions. Every man on this list has helped me at some point, from giving me a copy of the master key to slipping me Liam’s schedule or even just looking the other way while I duck my detail. I already know they’re loyal to me. Part of it, yes, is to reward them for that.” She knew that moving from the general royal guard to the Queen’s Guard was a promotion that came with a bigger salary and more benefits. She liked to reward loyalty. “The bigger part is because I assume you want men on the Queens Guard that are loyal to the queen, yeah? But ultimately, it’s up to you. You know these men better than me.”

“I’m not sure that letting you slip your detail is a qualification, that’s literally the opposite of their job.”

“Yeah, but one, I was generally doing it to sneak off and be with you…”

“Ok, fair point.”

“And two, with you as the head of my detail, I will neither want nor need to slip it. I need guardsmen that are there to serve me, not spy on me for Liam.”

“If I take the job, and that’s still an if, but if I take the job, then I promise I’ll give each man on your list serious and fair consideration.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

He already knew that he was going to assemble her team for her. He just wasn’t sure he could stay and lead it. He sighed as he drained the glass of whiskey and sat it down on the third coffee table that had been in his living room in the last two months. This one was marble. Maybe they’d manage not to break it. Their relationship dynamic had been….calmer.

Things had fallen into a pattern since the marriage contract had been amended. Riley had moved back into Liam’s room and so had Max, basically. Drake wasn’t sure he wanted to understand all the details of that arrangement, but Liam had calmed down about a million percent from where he was at before.

Wednesday nights were the weekly royal council meetings and every Wednesday morning she showed up at his door right after breakfast and stayed until Thursday after dinner. Liam had to know where she was at, but he never showed up, never sent a guard to drag her back, and there had been no more calls or texts blowing up her phone while they were together.

Liam was busy during the day with running the country. Riley had official duties too, but nothing like what Liam had, or what she would have once she was crowned. Meanwhile, he’d been on suspension and had nothing to fill his days. There were plenty of days where he spent more time with her than Liam did.

Still. He had to decide if it was dynamic he could live with long term. As head of her guard detail, he would have every reason to spend as much time by her side as he wanted, without anyone questioning it. But at the end of the day, she’d still be married to someone else.

Not that he’d ever wanted to be married. That wasn’t it. He’d always assumed he’d stay single forever. Of course, he hadn’t counted on falling in love. But the fact remained that marriage wasn’t important to him. He could love her without being married to her. But her committing her life to another man…. That was the point of contention. That was the thing he had to decide if he could live with or not.

“I’m going to change for bed. Do you want to watch a movie or something tonight?”

He looked at her in surprise. “Don’t you need to get back?”

“Not tonight. You need me. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“I don’t think Liam-“

“Liam knows I’m here. He told me to come. He knows you need me more than he does right now.”

“He….he said that?” Shock coursed through him.

“Yes. Despite everything, he loves you too, you know.”

“I know.” There had been a time when Liam was basically his person. There was no one he had trusted more, or been closer to. Until Riley. Unfortunately, the closer he had gotten to her, the further it had pushed him and Liam apart.

Drake knew he would still take a bullet for Liam if it came to it, but he wasn’t sure how Liam felt about him after everything that had happened.

As if reading his mind, Riley said, “You should talk to him.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He had no idea how to even start that conversation.

She pulled herself into his lap, straddling him, and took his face in her hands, “Hey. It’s going to be okay. Things are only going to get better from here.”

His eyes lifted to meet hers, his hands landed on her hips then slid around to ass. He knew she was trying to be emotionally comforting, but he couldn’t help how his body reacted to hers, how his body always reacted to hers. Everywhere they connected buzzed with electric energy so strong he was surprised he couldn’t hear the crackle in the air.

His fingers pressed into her flesh and he pressed himself up into her.

“Drake…”

“Riley…” His hands moved up her back and took her by the hair as his body surged up to capture her lips with his. She leaned down into the kiss as she squirmed on his lap. He moaned into her mouth as his erection sprang to life.

She barely pulled her lips away to whisper, “Tell me what you need.”

“You!” He growled as he turned them both to the side, flipping her off his lap and onto her back. Her legs wrapped around his waist as his mouth set to work devouring her, he rained hot kisses on her neck, licked along the shell of her ear, bit at her nipples through her clothes. “Take it off.” He demanded.

The low, demanding tone sent shivers through her, and she tugged the blouse off, along with the lacy camisole under it, as she breathed, “Yes, sir.”

Her breasts were bare and full, his hands caressed and squeezed them as his mouth pulled at her nipples, swollen and erect.

She stared up at him with undisguised, stark lust as her hands pulled at his hair and her body arched into him, “What else? Tell me, I’ll do anything you want.”

“Fuck!” He hissed as he dropped his head onto her chest, closing his eyes for a moment as he fought to maintain control. It was a losing battle. She was never so submissive, so yielding. He was usually the one doing all the submitting, surrendering his will to her. Her flipping the dynamic on him had him teetering on a razor’s edge.

His hand went under her skirt and between her legs. Her panties were already soaking wet as his fingers glided and stroked her through the thin material. “I need you to cum first, because I don’t know how long I’ll last once I’m inside you. I’m so fucking close already.”

“Mmmm.” She agreed, biting into her lower lip as her eyes fluttered closed and her head pressed back into the couch. She let every moan and whimper out, at full volume, as she writhed under him. She let the sensation of his touch wash over her as the rest of the world faded away. Her moans of pleasure grew louder, and her body twisted and bucked harder until she screamed out and dug her nails into his back while simultaneously sinking her teeth into him.

“Riley! Fuck!” He gasped out, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body as he yanked her panties down and struggled to get his pants unfastened. He could feel his dick throbbing, he needed to be inside her before he burst in his pants.

She was so wet, there was no need to go slow. He slammed into her, pulled himself almost all the way out and slammed into her again. Over and over before finally submerging himself deep inside as he erupted into her, his whole body convulsing before he collapsed onto her.

He nuzzled into her, mouth softly and gently sucking at the delicate skin of her neck. He loved the way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way her body felt pressed against his. He loved the curve of her face, the way her whole face lit up when she laughed, the frizzy fly away strands of hair that annoyed her. He loved every goddamned thing about her.

Her hands stroked down his back and she sighed in contentment. “I meant it, Drake. I’ll do whatever you want, whatever you need from me.”

He lifted his head to stare into her eyes and whispered, “I just want you to love me.”

“I do love you.”

“I love you, Riley. I love you so much it fucking hurts.” And that was the problem.

[the-last-kenobi]

*kciks down door* ReQuEsTs?!??! uh, 18. “Is it all right if I hug you?” with Obi-wan and character of your choice (please, this boy needs a hug so bad)

Hugs!!!! What an excellent ask.

Took me forever to pick a character though. I came this close to writing multiple hugs throughout the years but it would’ve been very long...

It’s still long. Whoops.

Note: I skipped the actual sentence and instead went for ✨vibes only✨

(From this various prompts list.)

_

Obi-Wan is twenty-three standard years old, very nearly twenty-four.

It is a delightful stage of life. (It’s awful.)

He’s growing in independence, so close to Knighthood he can almost taste it. (Is he? Nobody seems to have a clear opinion.)

He’s receiving more and more solo assignments, and on his missions with Master Jinn, the older Jedi makes an effort to at least await the Padawan’s input before making a decision, sometimes even deferring to Obi-Wan’s word. (Only in public, though, is there a sense of equality. Behind the scenes, Obi-Wan is still very much the learner.)

He longs to be free. (He doesn’t want to be alone.)

The confusing clash of thoughts and emotions is, in and of itself, a creator of more clashing emotions, all resulting in a bundle of self-doubt that crouches near his heart, like a greedy bird, picking away at his strength and certainty when he most needs it.

Doesn’t your doubt show you that you’re truly not ready? the pestering creature asks.

Doesn’t your longing for freedom prove you don’t deserve it? it says, tapping against the veins of ice and fear that lie right against the heat of his heart.

Doesn’t your need to be reassured tell you that you’re too hesitant, too weak to be alone?

His desire to fly is wrong. His desire to be sheltered, even more so.

Both together, coexisting in his heart and mind, could quite possibly mean the one thing he had been dreading for over a decade now, the thing older Jedi, real Jedi, had put into words and addressed to his face when he was only twelve, only eleven, only ten.

You are too emotional, they said.

You are overeager, they said.

You are not destined to be a Jedi, Qui-Gon had told him. I will not train you.

He had, in the end, and Obi-Wan has been wondering in the depths of his heart for all these years of it had not been a dreadful mistake. As much as the Force sings in his ears Jedi, Jedi, Jedi, endure, Jedi, Jedi, it felt like everything he touched, everything tangible, argues back failure, weak, selfish, foolish, unwanted, not fit.

Obi-Wan is twenty-three, almost twenty-four, and he is years into adulthood and light years away from proving that he’s capable of handling it.

When will he be Knighted?

Nobody seems to be expecting it from him.

Do they know, he wonders, have they known since the beginning that I am doomed to fail? Has this all been a gracious attempt, a thank you for my actions on Bandomeer, and they have drawn this out and out and out as long as they can?

How much longer can this go on?

Still, there are moments when he is at peace, when Obi-Wan is sure. When he meditates, when he accomplishes something new, when he walks away from an assignment feeling unashamed when he translates his memories into a tidy mission report.

When he has one of his long talks with Master Yoda, or Master Windu, who despite their revered status have taken to talking to him more like a friend than a child, outside of the Council chambers.

When he remembers the Force whispering inside, Jedi Jedi Jedi Jedi, endure, Jedi...

And then, on one of the missions assigned to both himself and his Master - still the overwhelming majority of his assignments - he and Qui-Gon are separated during a violent uprising.

There are bodies in the streets and buildings are aflame; children weep over the bodies of their parents and parents cradle the bodies of their children and scream as if the sound is their only companion left in the world. The standing government has a point, the rebellion has a point, the civilians caught in the crossfire don’t say which point they agree with because they’re too busy screaming and perishing, and Qui-Gon is simply gone.

Obi-Wan, faced with the threat of further bloodshed right here and right now even as the air is still clogged with ash and flame and as another body topples from a rooftop in front of his feet, raises his hand in surrender and calmly proposes a truce, offering himself as a legal hostage against the government that brought the Jedi here.

Obi-Wan is led away with his hands bound behind his back and his lightsaber taken away, and though his face is calm, the furrow between is brow speaks of his inner turmoil, which sounds like tapping against the cracks in his heart and Qui-Gon, where is Master Qui-Gon, I don’t know what I’m doing, if I fail more people will die, if I fail it will be my fault, is this taking charge or stepping aside, am I a leader or a victim?

He spends not days, not weeks, but three standard months as a hostage. He spends a terrible amount of time sitting in a cell and pondering his uselessness, the gravity of his foolishness, but every time someone opens the door and escorts him out to hold parley with the leaders of the rebellion and the ministry of the planet, he holds his head high, tempers his fear, and speaks to them with all he has.

Which is honesty. Humility.

You don’t know what to do, he says. Neither do I.

We all know we must do something. No matter how much blood you spill and how much earth you scorch you will eventually come back here to this table to have this same discussion until either both of you are broken beyond belief or one of you has been crushed, and half your planet’s voice stolen away. And you will have sacrificed two of the Republic’s Jedi along the way, a black mark against whichever victor is left standing.

Or, he says, we choose to pass over the violence and talk here and now, and choose this again and again and again. You have already had your fighting. Your people are already hoping for negotiation.

Are you here for their sakes or to kill them for show?

He does not use these exact words.

He sews them into his brief speeches, hammers in the point sharply when he must, weaves the common thread over and over again.

He knows they fight while he is locked away.

But he believes, from the growing respect in the eyes of these people who hold him both by his and against his will, that he is making a difference. He must be.

And Obi-Wan is twenty-three, very very nearly twenty-four, when he finally walks free to witness the signing of a treaty like this planet has never had before, to witness the formation of a new government, and he discovers not ashes and mass graves when he sees daylight for the first time in three months — but instead, a city and a planet marred only by scattered battlefields, and marked more clearly by the way its people have fought to keep it clean, to keep it safe.

Children race through the streets, unafraid, because they have had real shelter during the war. It has not entered their homes since that first terrible day.

Neighbors from opposing sides of this fight and friends who staked no claim in this war mingle freely. Their smiles are a little hesitant, but they are there.

The dead are all honored equally.

It is leaps and bounds, it is a civilization that propelled itself through years of struggle in three months, and Obi-Wan is awed by them.

He knows it cannot be this way everywhere.

He knows that there will be wars where no one wants to surrender, or where one side will be so certain of their point of view that they would rather raise hell than cease, and he knows there will be people who resist them.

But today it is real.

Obi-Wan looks at his pale and clammy hands, the marks around his wrists where he was so often bound, and feels the way his limbs shake from months of too little sunlight, not quite enough food, and more than his share of fear and doubt and self-recrimination.

As he smiles for a camera that will record this moment forever, he glimpses Qui-Gon amongst the crowd.

Someone explains to him, when he asks, that his Master had been injured during the uprising and spent the first three weeks of Obi-Wan’s captivity in convalescence. The remaining time, he has spent on the sidelines, forced there by his Padawan’s actions. With Obi-Wan a willing hostage, playing negotiator and leverage both, Qui-Gon had no role except to mingle with the people, offer them comfort and aid.

Something Obi-Wan knows his Master loved, but — he had still stolen his Master’s role.

He had thrown himself into a stupid, foolish situation, and how many times had Qui-Gon teased him about playing damsel in distress? And here he has gone and surrendered of his own accord. What would Qui-Gon have done if Obi-Wan had led them all to ruin?

Obi-Wan slowly loses his confidence, his relief, his silver tongue, as the press and the people recede, and he and his Master walk to a room that has been prepared for both of them, as honored guests by this new government.

Qui-Gon says nothing to him.

They walk in silence for twelve minutes.

And then, as soon as the door has shut behind them, Obi-Wan finds himself pulled into a fierce embrace, one of his Master’s hands buried in his hair, Qui-Gon’s chin resting atop his head.

Obi-Wan hesitates.

Does his Master think him a child?

Perhaps Qui-Gon senses his thoughts, because the man pulls away briefly, still holding his Padawan by the shoulders, as if unwilling to let him go completely, else he vanish like smoke.

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon says, and his voice is loud and strong and brimming with warmth that washes over Obi-Wan like sunlight, like water, like an embrace. “Well done, my Padawan.”

And then he is pulled again into Qui-Gon’s comforting arms, and Obi-Wan breathes in and gives in, folding against his teacher like a child, and if a few tears stain Qui-Gon’s robes or drop into Obi-Wan’s hair, neither of them speaks of it.

Obi-Wan lets his Master hold him, lets go of fear and pride and doubt, and finds that he is safe.

~