#I need to vesuvian man him

[beansprean]

Rhys has the most baffling nose I have ever attempted to draw it’s thin then it’s wide it’s long in profile but also kinda flat the bridge is concave but the tip points down but the nostrils are higher and every time I’m struggling with it and need a new ref it somehow looks completely different from my prev sketches!! The man has a new nose for every angle and I for one am SICK OF IT SIR.

#me complaining about a man’s nose!! listen rhys is VERY HARD TO DRAW he has so many angles #usually I can get a face down by identifying a unique feature #and if u get that right it automatically looks like them enough to be recognizable #but rhys?? no one is doing faces like him #you want to sketch using simple shapes?? #TOO BAD YOU NEED 5 JUST FOR HIS GODDAMN NOSE #meanwhile I give taika new noses every day and he looks the same because all u need are the eyes and the beard babey #Nathan so easy just curl his top lip up #Matthew honey hook that nose and draw the mouth higher than you think you should boom it’s him #con? forget about it just make an angry rectangle with sunken cheeks #rhys I’m sitting here running Pythagorean theorems about the corners of his mouth and whether I need to draw a bottom lip #sighhhhhh #I think I’m getting better tho now that I’m focusing on practicing him more #ok end of rant why did I do most of this in the tags djdjsjsj #rhys I love u but your face haunts me with its subtle curves and lifts #I need to vesuvian man him

[teeth-farie]

Honeycomb

Muriel/GN Reader

Notes: trans muriel, lingerie, fingering, feminization, roleplay, cheesy housewife novels, 3k words

☞. . . Hey! It’s been a while! This is based on me and my friends headcanon about muriel liking those cheesy housewife novels

Moving in with Muriel was easy enough, you had been together on the hunt for a year, after all. The two of you had long surpassed any discomforts that new couples would face while adjusting in each other's spaces. You found it easy to fall into his orbit, melding together in peaceful harmony.

But one thing you didn’t expect, however, was Muriel’s lack of…everything in his home. Yes, you anticipated it somewhat, but there was nothing to occupy his time or his mind other than work, nothing for him to relax other than a single, woodcarving chisel. There needed to be more, you needed him to have the necessities of life. 

So you started bringing home books. Simple, short novels from the shop that would give him a little more wonder to his day. But not many Vesuvians knew how to read, and the thought that you gifted something that he couldn’t use made you panic–but as he picked up the small volume and flicked through, feeling the texture of the pages and taking in the summaries, you felt your anxiety quell. You think that Asra must have taught him when they were young, and the thought of the two pointing to words in a too-large tome has you smiling. 

“Thank you,” Muriel breathed, a fascination in his eyes at your gifts, small and lovingly worn in his hands. When was the last time he had gotten a chance to read? A long time. Too long.

He had finished the book in a day.

It was hard to pull him away from it. Many times you caught him flipping the book back open, making his way through chapter by chapter. Nothing could pull him away; he’d use one hand to hold it open while brushing Inanna or stirring stew in the hearth, and it was a miracle that he didn’t try to take the book with him while tending to the chickens. 

Muriel finished it during dinner, his attention focused on the page as he spooned hearty stew into his mouth across from you. It was a short book, only about one hundred pages, but it filled him with a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. 

“Was it good?” You asked, smiling around your spoon, finally catching his attention. He flushed, sheepish as he nodded. “Yeah, I liked it.”

 “I’m so glad! Why don't you tell me about it?” 

Unfortunately, you had only so many books, and Muriel had begun to get picky with his findings. He liked reading fairytales and poetry, he liked mystical adventures with beautiful creatures, and you only had so much. 

So you took him to the market in search for more, sifting through dusted novels and doggy-eared journals for something he’d enjoy. And enjoy he did, walking back home with you with the smallest smile on his face, a new little treasure in his bag. 

Nothing was like seeing the awe on his face when the first official library in Vesuvia opened, and while he didn’t attend the grand opening (far too many loud people, he had said), he went frequently thereafter, making unintentional friends with the librarians and allowing himself to bask in the light of the large windows. 

You kept an eye out for new literature while you were out likewise, searching through the selections to find something new.

And it was meant as a joke, really. You meant it to be a funny gag gift when you brought home a novel with a hand-drawn cover of a delicate, foresty woman holding onto a well chiseled man. 

Muriel’s face had erupted in red, steam practically shooting from his ears. He grumbled, giving the cover a side eye. You hadn’t thought much of it after that, admittedly, aside from the laughs it gave you. 

You stir awake, turning over on your side. Muriel’s sitting up in the bed, the bedside candle lit and flickering, illuminating his large form delicately. He’s holding a book in his hands, and you hear his breath softly hitch as he flips the page, his hand coming up to his face and his teeth catching on his thumb. You’ve never seen him react like that before when reading.

“Honey?” You call out.

You hear him choke on his breath and he quickly snaps the book shut, pinching the flame out with his fingers.

“Go back to bed.” He says tightly.

“What were you reading-“

Muriel quickly lays back down with his back towards you. “Nothing!” He practically yelps. “Go to sleep!”

You snuggle back up against him and he begins to relax again. How odd. 

Muriel was quiet the morning after that, and while he likes to think he’s sneaky, you know he’s hidden that joke gift book under his pillow. When he steps outside to chop more wood, you take a peek at the book under his pillow. You crack it open to his bookmark, letting your eyes fall on a paragraph. 

“-The impish magician finds the nymph under him, her long legs spread open. She smells like lavender and honey, and he wants to eat her whole. 

“My hero,” she croons, watery, doe like eyes staring up into his. “Treat me gently, I beg of you.”

The magician's hand is in between her legs, fingers pressing into her p-“

Ah. You hadn’t expected this little book to be that graphic. No wonder Muriel had been so shy about it! You look over your shoulder at the window, carefully peering to see him still halving wood. With a grin full of teeth and a mind full of mischievous ideas, you flick through a few more pages.

…

The next following days you put your plan into action.

Admittedly, you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him. Fortunately for you, Muriel also seemed to be in a touchy-feely mood, reciprocating the touches and kisses. In the back of your mind, you wonder if that novel had anything to do with his more spontaneous libido as of late. 

Your hands press against his sides, lightly brushing against his ribs and drawing out a breathy little sound that makes you grin against his lips. His mouth is wet and soft against yours, parted as your tongue swipes against his bottom lip. It makes him shiver, his fingers clutching into the knit of your sweater. The hearth is still burning, the low flickering of the fire warming your skin almost as much as the kissing is. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” you breathe out, your teeth catching gently on his lip. Muriel makes a whimpery little sound, and you think about how much more you want to hear it. He hums in curiosity, eyes still lidded when you pull away to fetch a bag from under the bed.

You open up your bag, taking out the linen-wrapped package. “What's that?” He asks, interest peaked as you hand it to him. “Open up and see.”

Muriel looks down at the package in his hands and carefully, like he thought it might bite him, he peels away the covering. The sight inside makes his breath hitch, his skin blooming hotter. 

White and sage lace, silks, all wrapped into each other to form a gorgeous set of lingerie. He feels his hands tremble a bit, and somewhere in the back of his mind says that this feels familiar. 

And then it hits him; this fits the exact description of what the character in the novel wears during one of the scenes in which– oh, oh, Muriel’s face has gotten so very red–

“Like it? I flipped through that book you like so much and thought about doing something special for you.” You rest your hand on his thigh, snapping him away from his flustered focus. He looks at you, biting on his lips. “So what do you say? Wanna put it on, honeycomb?” 

Another piece from the book, an endearing nickname for the forest nymph that has him feeling less than innocent. 

You’re watching him as he pulls off his sweater, inch upon glorious inch of skin exposing, light brown with scars and stretches. He’s gained weight since you’ve both made your peaceful life together, indulging in things he never thought he’d be able to savor. No longer is his skin clinging to muscles. He's soft, squishy over that strong body, and it takes everything in your power not to sink your fingers into his stomach. 

The pants follow next, then his simple underwear, until he’s completely nude in front of you. Vulnerable in all the best ways. He’s biting his lip, gently touching the lingerie in the wrapping. 

“Do you want help?” You offer, meeting his shy gaze. “Mm,” Muriel can only whine, slowly, stiffly nodding his head. “Please,” he tacks on for extra measure, possibly a little less shy than you thought; he knows how hot it gets you when he uses his manners. 

You feel a little shiver in your spine, one of excitement as you grab the panties and twirl them around your finger. “Come on, big boy,” you whistle playfully and your big boy snorts with a roll of his eyes, standing to his feet before the bed where you sit. “Or should I say, little lady?” 

Now that gets you a nice little sound, a stuttery gasp from his kiss-swollen lips. “You like that?” You grin, holding out the leg holes of the panties for him to step into. Muriel grabs onto your shoulders as he does, nodding sheepishly in agreement. “That’s a good girl,” you snap the band around his hips, the sage silks and lace framing his hips and ass snuggly. His hips jerk, already dampening the fabric with his arousal. “So, so pretty. And you’re all for me.” You lean forward, eyes flicking up to his as you press a kiss to his stomach, over the thick happy trail leading into the scrunched elastic of the underwear. 

“Ssstop…” Muriel whimpers, turning his face in embarrassment. 

“You want me to stop? Are you sure?” You fiddle with the bralette you’ve yet to put on him. “Or are you just being shy again?” 

He huffs, face still profoundly red. “Shut up.” He grumbles, though empty of malice. You’ve got your answer, so you hold out the last bit of lingerie for him. Muriel loops the straps over his shoulders, turning around for you to fasten the clasps. You don’t miss how he shivers when your knuckles brush against his spine, or the way his breath catches in his throat when those fingers trail down the length of his back. 

“Turn around, let me see you, honeycomb.” 

Muriel follows your order without a second thought, shuffling to face you. And he looks gorgeous. Green truly is his color, there’s no doubt about that. The bralette hugs his chest, the scalloped-edged cups framing his breasts. Your eyes rake down lower, down his beautiful scarred chest and stomach, thick patches of hair littering the path, all the way down to the hem of his panties. You almost drool at the way his clit bulges against the cloth, swollen and needy. 

“Look at you…” you grab his hips and squeeze, fingers looping under the band of his panties to give them a playful snap. “Back on the bed, hun, come here,”

He crawls into bed after you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he does. Every shift of his thighs has the heat between his legs growing stronger, a measly friction that makes him feel even more desperate. Muriel’s the one to initiate another kiss, his hands carefully placed on the tops of your thighs. You thread your fingers in his hair, smiling against his lips. You have to use your grip to pull him back to speak, a thin line of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. 

“So eager…Lay down, that’s it,” the blankets are soft below his half-naked skin, although failing to warm him quite like your touch. You spread his legs apart, excitement surging through you at the sight of his dampening underwear. 

Teasingly, you run your fingers up the inside of his thigh, up to where he needs you the most. “What was the thing your book talked about? The magician putting his fingers in the nymph’s flower?” 

Muriel chokes on a gasp, hands shooting up to cover his face. “Ugh-”

“Come on, honeycomb, don’t you want that too? You’re already dressed up just like her.” Your thumb rubs over his bulging clit, drawing a whimper from his lips. He nods from behind his hands.

“Ah, Ah, I gotta hear you say it.”

Muriel peeks from behind his fingers. “Don’t make me say it…”

You don’t grant him any reprieve, only giving those just-barely-there rubs of your fingers over his clit. He keens, hips flexing up frustratedly. “Please,” he gasps out, “puh-put your f-fingers in my, inmyflower.” 

“Oh, good girl.” You grin, relishing the shiver that runs through him. He breathes out shakily when you pull his panties aside, fingers spreading him open. You whistle low, sliding your fingers through his folds, slick discharge and arousal gathering on your skin. “Now that’s the prettiest rose I’ve ever seen.” 

Muriel huffs, flustered. You take the time to position your thumb over his clit, rubbing slow circles as you ease a finger into him. His eyes twitch, jaw falling slack at the long-awaited stimulation. “Now that’s a pretty face.” You coo, leaning over to press a kiss against his jaw, teeth teasingly nipping at the skin. “And you’re taking me so well too…” Another finger slid in, two pumping in and out, curled up against the squishy walls of him.

“H-hughh,” his large hand carefully reaches down to where your hand meets his pussy, fingers brushing your wrist. It’s almost like he’s in awe of it, the way you make him feel, the sight of it. His clit sticks out and he can see the way it throbs and twitches when you press your fingers into a good spot. 

You take his hand in yours, the one not currently finger fucking him open, and squeeze it tight. “You’re so romantic, honeycomb.”

His whole body feels hot, like a never-ending fever. You always make him feel all…mushy and soft. You make him feel like he’s special and good, and he whimpers when you lean back up and take a good look at him, embarrassment running deep. But, he doesn’t think it’s a bad kind of embarrassment when it’s you. 

Muriel clenches down on your fingers when you drag them back out, teasing a third against his hole. “How wide do you want me to stretch you tonight, little lady?” You coo down at him, a devilish little thing. 

He swallows, his tongue feeling too thick in his mouth. He’s never been good at saying outright what he wants. “Wide,” he breathes out, thighs trembling while you languidly stroke over his folds. 

“Mm, three fingers?” You slowly slide the three in, savoring his shaking moan, before pulling them back out. Muriel whines at the loss, hips bucking up. 

“Or maybe four? Or did you want my whole hand? I know you can take it, I’ve seen you do it before, honey.” 

The man below you groans, turning his head to hide in the pillows. “You’re teasing me…” you hear him whine, his chest heaving with his worked-up breaths. 

“Oh, I know, I’m just so mean to you, aren’t I?” He spares you a knowing glance and you have the absolute pleasure of watching his jaw fall slack and his eyes roll when your fingers plunge back into him. He’s full with three, toes curling when you spread them. “Ah- ah- ah-,”

You pick up the pace, thumbing his clit with every thrust of your fingers—and oh how he squirms, his thighs tensing and shaking, his stomach crunching and body twisting when you relentlessly fuck his sweet spot. Muriel makes such lovely sounds, gurgled little cries as he tugs at his own hair, still squeezing your hand that he won’t let go.

“That’s it, you’re so close, aren’t you?” He nods curtly, biting back a gasp. 

“Puh-please, please, I-I’m so close, I’m so close–” His hips buck up once, erratic, teeth grinding. The way he speaks is almost a hiss, hushed and strained. The mossy green of his eyes bounce across your face, lips open in a gape, almost frantic. “I-it’s, it's gonna–”

“I know, just let it out, honeycomb,” you lift his hand to your lips, kissing his sweaty knuckles, and that seems to be what sends him over that beautiful crescendo.

 Muriel gasps, strangled, a moan creeping from his scratched throat like gentle hands around his jugular. His body tenses, hips thrusting up–and he squirts, a forceful arc of it spraying from his spasmed core. It paints your stomach, wetting your skin and spitting with each languid thrust of your fingers. “Thaaat’s it, good girl.”

It seems like almost an eternity that he shudders and shakes, his trembling body slowly falling back until he’s boneless against furs and knits. Muriel distantly smells himself when you free your fingers from his cunt, and perhaps he's too worn to be shameful, only crooning softly at the gape. Sweat and cum soaks the hem of his panties, cooling in the settling air. A log from the hearth falls with dimming embers and it becomes clear just how wrapped up in him you’ve been. 

“Thank you.” Muriel breathes out, chest still heaving, glistened with sweat under the lace. Wordlessly, you lean down to kiss him, falling between his legs. He reciprocates eagerly, lips parting for your tongue, a shiver riding up his spine. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the wetness of your stomach pressing against his. Whether he notices or simply doesn't care is up to you, a languid kiss all that matters. 

He’s the one to break the silence after a lifetime of kisses and shared breaths, his arms coming to wrap around your back, his foot nudging your ankle. 

“There’s another scene, after this one.” 

You grin, bottom lip caught between your teeth. He blushes brilliantly, but the proposal is still there, up to you to grab. 

“Enlighten me then, honeycomb.” 

#muriel #spicy #sub arcana #muriel the arcana

[themushroomgoesyeet]

I apologize for breaking schedule already; this took me a while to figure out and I guess I accidentally forgot to actually write this up yesterday (Sunday is going to be the day that I post these, unless I decide otherwise btw)

Anyway!

Arcana characters as cryptids

(see I told you it wouldn't all be Disney)

Asra - the Loch Ness Monster

Water theme? Check

Mysterious to a mind boggling degree? Check

Is it a dinosaur that the asteroid missed? Is it an ancient Celtic creature with nebulous shape-shifting magic? Is it just a hoax? Who knows! Certainly not us, and I feel like this fits Asra's "no gender only magic and adventure" vibes

Both of them have an increasingly frustrating ability to disappear at random and only be seen when they want to

Julian - Mothman

Big, blanket shaped, black and red color palette, sexy for some people

Did I just describe Mothman or Julian?

Both also have a bad habit of materializing from/melting into the shadows

I think if Julian were to find this post likening him to such an edgy, mysterious creature

Muriel - Bigfoot

I mean is there really even a question about this one

Literally all you have to do is make Muriel hairier and have bigger feet and you're all set

Both of them live out in the middle of the woods & don't seem to care for company

Bro basically is a cryptid to some Vesuvians

Lucio - Goatman

I feel this needs even less explanation than Muriel's tbh

Especially since a nice chunk of this fandom double as BuzzFeed Unsolved fans

Fuck you goatman

Nadia - sphinx

Ok so I'll admit this is where I started running out of ideas

Hear me out tho

I know that some of you will say that sphinxes are mythological creatures and not cryptids, and personally I disagree; I bet in a thousand years archaeologists and the like will look back on our cryptid studies and be like "man, these guys had a weird mythology"

So long story short sphinxes are just ancient cryptids

There are two flavors of sphinx, both of which I think fit Nadia well

Greek sphinxes were usually portrayed as guardians - usually of cities, gates, and doorways - and (in the case of Oedipus) challenged people with riddles. As ruler/protector of Vesuvia, I think it's safe to say that Nadia slots into the guardian role quite nicely

I'm not as familiar with Nadia's route but I imagine she'd also enjoy riddle games

Then there's the Egyptian flavor of sphinx; while these are also guardians (of tombs and temples specifically), they are also representations of Pharos and their closeness to the gods, as well as symbols of their strength and ferocity

And of course we love the strong & independent queen that is Nadia

Portia - Tonttus/Nisse/Gnomes

For those who don't know, Tonttus are creatures from Scandinavian folklore; they look like tiny men with white beards and colorful, conical hats

While their description doesn't fit Portia (aside from being incredibly small in stature), their actions and temperament certainly do

If treated well, Tonttus will become guardians of homesteads and farms, helping with chores, caring for livestock, and warding off danger and misfortune.

If treated poorly or insulted, Tonttus will instead cause mischief in the place that they live, playing tricks, stealing from the family, and sometimes even killing livestock

Now Portia may not go as far as killing animals, but she's definitely got a short temper at times and is a wild prankster

I almost forgot about these homely little creatures but I'm glad I found something that fits Portia's cottage core vibes so well

#the arcana #the arcana game #arcana #muriel of the kokhuri #count lucio #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #julian devorak #the arcana as _

[a-star-aquarium]

The Mad King

His Highness, Juno Ara Malik

Nicknames

Junebug - by everyone who he loves

Rat King - he gained it by those who only view him for his title

Anak laki-laki ungu yang manis - possibly not translated well, but it means Sweet Purple Boy in Indonesian. It is used by his mother, as she would adorn her son in Royal purple, and since, it has become his color, it remains stained on the palace walls, and shown in almost ever rug he owns-which is ironic, considering his favorite color is actually red.

Age: 28

Birthday: January 21st

Gender/Sexuality: Bisexual man {He/Him}

Astrology: Aquarius sun, Pisces moon, Leo rising

Patron Arcana: Judgement

Upright- Awakening, decision-making, redemption, transition

Reversed - Poor logic, self-doubt, stagnation

Physical Attributes:

Ethnicity: Prakran with a bit of Indonesian and Indian

Height: 5'8

Face Claim: Imran Anj

Hair:

His hair is Mid-length, so a little longer than past his shoulders

Light brown eyes, and thick eyebrows, but he definitely trims them to look arched most days

I'd say he looks similar to face claim completely when it comes to lips, nose, facial structure {that's generally how I picture him if he didn't have the long colorful hair}

Important Relationships:

King Arogatus Malik of Kari Beaundes - His father, who rules over his home land

Lee Lee and Amaria, his cousins. Both live with him seeing as their parents died of the red plague {they were in Vesuvia at the time of the plague, it was miracle the pair didn't pass away too}

High Council Madame Luvia - His grandmother, who is deceased. She was decapitated.

Jayda - His right hand man and closest friend. Sometimes it's hard to tell if theres something between them, or just longing

Zahra - The one who handles all his business with his courtiers, and who basically took his grandmothers job. She's also a good friend of Jayda's, as he would trust her with his life, which she's complained is far too much responsibility considering how irresponsible he can be.

Favorites

Favorite food: Grilled halloumi

Favorite drink: Pinot Noir 

Favorite Flower: French Hydrangea 

Background/Other Info:

Juno is a bastard child, as yes, he is his father's son, but his mother was not of royal decent. Juno's father is not completely to blame for this, as his wife, The Queen, passed away of an illness, and he had to resort to sleeping with a servant to produce an heir, otherwise his line would've been endangered. Juno will not take after his father though, his cousin Amaria will; ergo why Juno's father had him take over a small Provence at the age of 14. He felt bad that his son would not be able to take after his footsteps.

Juno was raised by his teachers, servants, and guards when he was sailed across the sea to Roya. His grandmother took no interest in him besides hating him, she would regular burn his hands and back, and he remains to have a scar on his face from her dagger. In fact, her treatment only resulted in Juno growing to be spiteful and cruel in some ways, and at the age of 17, he decapitated her in a purple blaze. Her very own sword being used to do the beheading.

Because he is a bastard, he has no biological connections to the countess, but when asked about him, she called him 'Cousin Juno', and he holds her dearly for including him, even if they're not blood related.

Juno did in fact meet Nadia once, and Zahra insisted on putting a show. So they brought several animals, fabrics, and gifts for the whole palace, and city of Vesuvia. Zahra claims it was a good thing, because now vesuvians have a good image of him, but he thinks that they probably think he's stuck up for doing that much.

Style Preference/Clothing:

It's important to mention that Juno shows as much skin as possible, but not for the reasons you think. He does it to show his burns, his scars, what his grandmother has left him, to remind the people of Roya, that he too has suffered at her hand too. His need to bare himself to the world often results in lots of silk and sheer fabric. He needs to be seen.

He is often adorned in deep blue, red, black, and purple fabrics. He likes a lot of gold in jewelry, commonly wearing black jewels and rubies. He loves the way they reflect in the light. He has a nose piercing, but he'll also wear earrings and necklaces. He's actually very weirded out by lace though, so you'll see him avoid it.

More formal attire:

Dynamic? How is he with others?

Juno, while his reputation states otherwise, is genuinely kind-hearted. While he surely can seem sly or charming, he generally has the best intentions when doing so. He's not going to treat you like a threat unless your a genuine problem.

To strangers, he's welcoming, he wants to get to know them, discover what makes them, well- them. He's aware of boundaries though, and will always make sure he's not crossing a line. He's especially kind if he has a good word about you from Zahra or Jayda, getting to know them is the key to getting to Juno if we're being honest. He holds their opinion extremely highly.

To friends, it really depends on who he's with. With Jayda, he's gentle, he jokes, but only mildly, nothing that could genuinely hurt him, and he's highly aware of how sensitive Jayda can be to insults, he knows that the magician has given him the gift of awareness, and he knows it's led to him being insecure about every single thing he does. So he is there as a pillow for Jayda. In contrast, with Zahra and Atlas, he teases them and mocks them all the time, because they do the same, and he's gained the sense they like it. They mean it in no rude way, and it's merely what their used to. For newer friends, he'll analyze you, see what you seem comfortable with, and then he'll try to follow that pattern with you

To partners, you have two options:

You show that you're not really interested in romance, you're more into the passion, the desires of it all. He will treat you as such. He will spoil you, listen to your every fantasy, and do his very best to please you. But he won't show his love as much. He will send you gifts, treat you to nice dinners, balls, all of it. But he won't show how much he loves you, because he'll think it's a turn off. Though, that doesn't mean he's not head over heels for you, he absolutely is, otherwise, your relationship would just be friends with benefits.

You show that you want him, love him, you want him to romance you, lure you in. God, will he play into your every demand. He loves you, and if you let him show it, he won't hesitate to every single moment he's around you. He's handsy, he'll keep his hand on your shoulder, your back, your face. Wherever he can. He may not be too public about it, but that's because he considers your relationship sacred to just you too. Overall though, he's way more affectionate.

Juno is always available for interactions, or ships, so if you're curious, feel free to send an ask

"Oh, our dear king, what a fool someone would be to love you, what a fool someone would be to fall into that trap"

#Juno Ara Malik #the arcana #apolloverse #edited with a picrew of him (that is also edited #they had no purple hair)

[pugwitharug]

M6 With An MC Who Uses Sign Language

am I just projecting my Arcana MC without any other context? yes. am I actually gonna give context later on? possibly. do I miss my babies? without question.

GN Reader, my MC is mute and uses sign language as one of their ways of talking but this is for mute/deaf/HOH people

🔮Asra Alnazar🔮

He's lived with you for years, he definitely knows sign language

If you do want to talk in a more magical way, he's one hundred percent up to helping you find something that works for you. Projecting your thoughts into words in the air? What color do you want your text? A magical telepathic link? What ingredients does he need?

If you just want to use sign language, wonderful! I think he'd like to make little shortcuts for phrases you use a lot so you don't have to make the whole phrase, and it's like a secret language for you two lol

If you're deaf/HOH and you can read lips, he does make sure that he enunciates a little more and has a sign in the store that tells people to make sure their mouth is uncovered

He's more than happy to take over the shop if you're getting overwhelmed with trying to talk to people

If someone tries to mock you they will get kicked :3 maybe hexed while he's at it :3

⚰️Julian Devorak⚰️

He canonically knows seven languages, sign language has got to be one of them

The two of you will have entire days where neither of you talk (if you do talk) and when he finally has to talk to someone his voice is strange in his tongue

I feel like if he's not playing a part in a play, he'd be one of the interpreters who stand alongside the actors and act along with them. He'd have so much fun with that

He tries to write notes to you around the house, little reminders like "we're out of coffee" or "don't forget to feed the leeches" but....this poor man has the worst handwriting and it's all illegible

If you're deaf/HOH then he would be extra careful not to accidentally sneak up on you. If you're in public then he just kinda hovers around you to make sure no one else does the same thing. He's a tall boi it's pretty easy

He's a little hesitant about you using magical means of talking but will in no way demean you for it. He thinks it's wonderful that you've found something else, he's just always a little hesitant around magic

He loves you so much and he wants to do everything he can to make you happy in your own skin, please my darling I love him

👑Nadia Satrinava👑

If she was taught sign language back in Prakra, it was most likely Prakran sign language and not Vesuvian, and even so she probably doesn't know very much of it. Learning verbal languages was probably more important in sign language, for diplomatic purposes

That being said, she will absolutely learn sign language to help you two talk. She'll hire the best tutors in Vesuvian to teach her

If you so wish, she'll have someone by your side to interpret, but she understands if you want to be more independent. She has the resources to make you comfortable and dammit she will use them

If she catches the slightest whiff of someone making fun of you during a ball or a meeting or something they will feel a glare so fierce their spine will crawl out of their back :)

If you use writing as a way to talk she will get you the finest papers and the most exquisite quill, one that holds ink inside it rather than having to be dipped. Or she'd make one herself, and you see a proud gleam in her eyes whenever she sees you use it

She will devote her entire attention to you whenever you're signing, and if it's during a meeting and someone tries to talk over you they will get a shoulder colder than the South. She's so good at being intimidating I love her

🐻Muriel of the Kokhuri🐻

Honestly, the less he has to talk, the better

He would definitely learn sign language, but he'd prefer if you taught it to him. Not just because he doesn't wanna go into town for a teacher, but because he wants to spend more time with you

Like with Asra, you two create simple signs for popular phrases. Once again another secret language thing, something just for the two of you

If you're deaf/HOH and you wanna go in the forest, he's gonna insist on going with you. The forest can be a dangerous place, even more if you can't hear when danger is coming

He loves sitting in the bed with you, fire crackling in the fireplace, Inanna spread out between both of your laps with his hand on her stomach as you tell him a story, fingers flying and face animated, acting out all the emotions you felt in that moment. The way you tell stories, it's unique only to you, and only he gets to hear it

He does his very best not to sneak up on you by accident, but unfortunately he's too big and quiet (regardless if you can hear or not) and he always feels so bad 😫 please kiss him and tell him it's alright

🐱Portia Devorak🐱

She doesn't know any sign language right out of the gate, maybe "hello" and "I love you" but that's about it

Nonetheless she would love to learn it! She's a very fast learner and would pick up on it pretty quickly

She's normally very expressive in her face which I've heard is very useful in having signed conversations so she's pretty much made for it

Pepi would keep thinking you're trying to play when you're signing and she'll attack your hands lol

It doesn't always work the best when she's working and you're trying to talk though, so she would like some sort of magical verbal communication, like a telepathic connection

She will absolutely stand up for you if someone is getting on your nerves about not hearing/not talking. She is a 5 foot brick house and she will throw a punch in your honor

*slight spoilers for her Upright Route* knowing sign language would also be great for her ambassador job. Granted it would only be Vesuvian and sign languages can be quite different but still

🐩Lucio Morgasson🐩

He might be a little...insensitive at first. If you're mute he'd ask why you can't simply talk, but I don't think he'd be like that if you're deaf/HOH cuz there's not much you can actually do about that

He'd be better about it though as his character develops, and he feels sorry about it and works to better his understanding. Well, okay, when I say "works on it" I mean that he doesn't ask the question again and that's about it

He tries to learn sign language, but he doesn't exactly pick it up. He's better at understanding what's being said than actually saying it, but he'd still prefer writing

If you can do something magical, he'd show you off to everyone, like "Look everyone, my wonderful partner can make words appear out of thin air! Aren't they incredible?"

If you're deaf/HOH, sometimes you put your ear to his chest when he's talking in bed so you can hear the vibrations of his voice alongside his heartbeat. You can't see it, but Lucio is practically smitten

Look I don't particularly care for him, but there are times where he can be cute, I'll admit that

#the arcana #my writing #headcanons #asra alzanar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson #sign language

[the-iron-orchid]

Thinking about Gay Pirate Summer (as soon as I wrap up Bathtime With Jinana) and I’m probably gonna mostly divvy it up into two interacting figures per scene, with a few non-physically-interacting trios (trying to do too many interacting trios Kills The Jen and also my Renderbeast lmao)

(Related Aside: I’ve considered a small fundraiser to get a new CPU - it’s the bottleneck in my system for sure, and I can get a decent one for under $200 - but I also dunno how I feel about doing that when people out there also need like... food and medicine, you know? IDK man, we’ll see what I can do finances-wise)

Anyway, I’m brainstorming some Ideas below...

Jinana and Long-hair Julian (lbr he’s probably tied up and grinning fit to make the top of his head fall off while s/he faux-menaces him lol)

Jinana, Heron and Ell hanging out on deck @foxfirefallout

Vissacha horny swordfighting on deck (we all know it’s foreplay for them lolol) @vissentasenadz @devoraqs

Marcus and Miloš sharing a Moment @vesuvian-disaster @xx-sharpfawngz-xx

DonDon and Valerius because I’ve literally never rendered them together lmao @bottomvalerius​

Vida about to drink Asra’s lightweight ass under the table @apprenticevida

Nadia and Portia as Captain and First Mate

Again, idk if I’ll get to all of them, because I am Just One Guy, but I do have like... twenty pirate and pirate-adjacent outfits in my assets library lmao, may as well get some use out of them

Taking suggestions, though not requests per se - this is just something I’m doing at my own pace for my own amusement, and to deliver a lil dopamine into the world ;P

#the life of a 3D artist

[cranetreegang]

Unwanted Guests - Part 3: Valerius x Court Magician/MC

Summary: With the news of Valerius' capture, you deal with the aftermath and the plan of attack to get him back.

Word Count: ~2,500

Read Part 2 Here

Arcana Masterlist

--------------------------------------------

Portia paced the Creasta’s war room while Nadia, Edelina and Nik were looking over a crude map of the palace and the surrounding area. We had spent most of the early morning and day talking, much to my mounting displeasure. I listened to them discuss how best to counter the invasion, where the weakest point in the palace was, and other strategies. My mind couldn’t focus on them though as it ended up going back to the same thing.

Captured. 

One simple word had brought me to my knees. My duty had taken me away from him and now he was in mortal danger. I knew there was something going on. I knew, yet I didn’t warn Valerius. I didn’t confront Nadia. I blindly trusted her judgment when I knew there was something amiss. Thinking back on when I first told her the news of the invasion, she didn’t even have the decency to look surprised. She knew. 

A hiss left me when the pain of my nails digging into my palm registered in my mind.

The Ahesh.

Faj was the representative for Ahesh and it didn’t take much thought to connect the invasion to him. After Nadia ignored his demand to have me taken back to the Ahesh capital for punishment, it came as no surprise he would be looking for revenge. 

I should’ve killed him that night. 

Instead, I allowed such an oversight to take place. I had failed my lady and the man I loved. Something like this should’ve never happened. Yet…,

I stared at the dinanar crystal pulsing in my hand and I knew there would be only one way to stop this Ahesh infestation. 

I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote:

Hide in the throne room. It’s safe there. I’ll come for you. 

I shoved the paper into the leather bag with a silent prayer for the message to reach the intended recipient and stood from my chair. 

“We need to return to Vesuvia. Immediately.” I stated. 

The room fell silent as they exchanged glances. 

Nadia held my determined gaze, “How? Even with a fast horse, the journey would still take over a day of hard riding. And we cannot reclaim the palace without the entirety of the royal guards at our backs.” 

I looked over to Nik, “How long are you able to sustain a portal?” 

Nik’s iridescent eyes shone with a hint of pride, “Long enough.” 

“We create a portal at the palace gate.” I pointed on the map. “They don’t know that we’re aware of them yet. We’ll be returning weeks ahead of schedule, and they won’t have any forewarning of our arrival. They’ll be scrambling to defend the palace and I doubt they had an easy time taking it over. If we don’t strike now, they’ll have too much time to create a foothold and they’ll be impossible to root out without suffering heavy Vesuvian casualties.” 

Nadia grimaced with a sharp nod then turned her attention to Nik, “When can we have a portal ready?” 

Edelina and Nik exchanged glances before Edelina gave a nod. 

“I’ll gather my people and we’ll have it ready by sunrise.” Nik left the room without further delay. 

“Thank you, Edelina. For allowing us to reclaim our home.” Nadia said with a low bow.

Edelina smiled, “I know you would do the same for me, my dear.” 

The night was long as I listened to Nadia discuss what awaited us to the guards. Their faces never once showed a hint of doubt or fear. They were all eager to defend their home from the bastards and I found myself sharing their bloodlust. I was about to head back to my room when Nadia took me to the side with a stern expression.

“I sense you’re worried.” She said with a cool tone. 

“I am. But it hasn’t impeded me, if that’s what you’re wondering.” I replied. 

Her brows furrowed, but she nodded, “I’m glad to hear it. Vesuvia needs you. I need you.”  

A coppery, bitterness coated my tongue and I couldn’t look at her for a moment. Now she needs me. After everything was falling apart, now she chooses to confide in me. Despite a piece of me knowing to keep my frustrations to myself, a greater part of me won over.

“I have to ask,” I met her eyes once more with a stern glare, “why didn’t you tell me?”

Nadia’s head raised, her shoulders falling back, “Tell you what?”

“The nature of our journey to Creasta. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Her eyes flickered for a moment as she shook her head, “You’re upset and angry. I won’t take offense to your tone, nor your brazen accusation.”

“I am angry.” I spit out. “I am angry with Ahesh, and their lack of honor and courage for attacking our home while we’re away. I am also angry with you.”  

Nadia’s eyes widened, but I continued to speak before she could, “You knew. You knew something like this would happen, and you kept me in the dark. So, I will ask again, why?” 

She lowered her head with a grimace, “I wasn’t sure if my suspicions were correct.” 

“Yet, here we are. So obviously there was some reasoning for concern.” 

Nadia holds my gaze, “If I were wrong, and there was no threat, then I would have looked foolish for letting my intuition get in the way.”

My nostrils flared, “Young Countess, if your pride is the reasoning behind this, then I pray it was worth it.” 

“I had reason to believe someone infiltrated my Court.” Nadia hissed. “I wasn’t sure who to trust with this suspicion.  I didn’t even inform Portia about the nature of this visit.” 

She sighed while pinching the bridge of her nose, “I had reason to believe they would go after me, if I left them an opportunity to do so. So, I did. I wanted to draw out the traitors hiding in our shadows to prevent something drastic from happening.” 

I clenched my hands behind my back, “If you do not trust me, then you should have me removed from your service. Because my life, my purpose, is to serve you, and Vesuvia.” 

Nadia frowned, “I do trust you.” 

“Then you would have told me your ruse. Even if nothing came of it, I would have looked into it further. I would’ve ensured we were prepared for anything.” I countered. 

Nadia’s features darken from my unchecked fury. She held her head high as she warned, “You are letting your feelings for Valerius cloud your judgment. I need your mind clear of emotion if you are to be of any use to me, or him.”

At the mention of his name, another sharp twist, similar to a dagger in my gut, made me hiss through ground teeth. 

“My judgment clouded?” I glowered at her through narrowed eyes, “Right now, the Ahesh have taken over the palace where the most important and vital people in all of Vesuvia reside. The Vesuvian Courtiers are more than likely dead, or, worse, being held hostage to draw you out, where they will lay claim to a swift siege and victory of Vesuvia without lifting so much as a finger against any resistance. My judgment and mind have never been clearer, Countess. And my anger resides in the fact that this should’ve never happened.” My voice echoed off the stone walls of the empty corridor over the pounding of my heart. The distraught expression on her face made me falter. 

I sucked in a sharp breath and turned away from her before I said anything further. 

“Magician!” Her voice called after me, but I kept striding to my room.

“Do not fret, young Countess. I will clean up this mess. As is my duty.” I spit out as I leave her sight. 

It wasn’t until I collapsed on my bed, my head falling into my hands, did I feel the regret of my heated words. A choked sob left me before I could stop it. My fingers dug into my scalp, pulling on my hair. My throat and chest constricted, leaving me to suck in sharp breaths of air as I tried to reign myself back.

He can’t be dead. No… Ahesh may be cowards and pigs, but they’re not stupid. To kill the Courtiers would be a major blunder on their part. They needed the Courtiers, not just as hostages to control Nadia, but as shields from my wrath. Until I knew of their status, I had to assume they would be kept somewhere in the palace under watchful eye.

And if he’s not a hostage… 

A surge of magic rippled through me which I barely held back. I let out a heavy sigh. I’ve never been this turbulent, not just with my magic, but with my emotions. Nadia was right. I needed to maintain a clear head if I were to be of any use. I closed my eyes with a deep inhale.

He’s alive. Yes, he’s alive. I repeated the mantra to myself several times, even if the words held little weight to me, they brought momentary comfort. And if he’s not, then not even the Gods would be able to stop me from ensuring the Ahesh met a long, painful end to their cowardly lives.

Once dawn came, we gathered the guards into the circle on the ground in the middle of Nik’s lab. Nadia had changed into an armor which reminded me of a conqueror you’d read in tales of old. I admired her ability to exude such power and the fierce spark in her crimson eyes matched my own. When she looked at me, her eyes revealed a heavy guilt. I frowned at the sight, but the time for reconciliation would have to wait.

“We will begin! Do not move!” Nik warned over the sounds of humming magic charging up. He had the dinanar crystals lined up in a relay to create a powerful surge. The circle below us began to illuminate until the lab transformed into the Vesuvian palace gate in a flash of light. 

The palace on the outside seemed untouched and serene. I had a moment of doubt there was even an invasion until one of the palace guards sprinted up to us. 

“My lady!” A young guard yelled, outbreath and frantic. “They’ve taken over the palace. T-They were already in the palace before we even knew. I’m so sorry, my lady.” He fell into a groveling bow at Nadia’s feet.

“Rise, knight. I need you to tell me everything. Quickly.” Nadia ordered.

The guard jumped to his feet and nodded his head, rattling his helmet, “They came during our rotation. T-They just appeared in the ballroom all at once. A small platoon, maybe thirty men. Most of us had no clue, until Ahesh announced they were here. We wanted to attack. We really did. But, they said they had prisoners. And they’d only speak of their release with you, Countess.” 

Nadia looked like she had been gutted with the way her skin paled and her lips parted in shock.

“Who’s still inside the palace?” She asked. 

“They’ve let most of the servants go, but…,” the guard shifted in place before saying, “They have the Courtiers hostage.” 

“All of them?” I spoke up. 

“Yes. They weren’t able to evacuate in time. I’m sorry, my lady. This attack happened so fast.” He bowed once more. 

I stared at the palace as an icy resolve came over me. I went over to Nadia, “I’m going in there. Right now. We can’t waste any more time.” 

Nadia grabbed both of my shoulders to keep me in place. Her features stern and her lips in a thin line, “You cannot go in there. Negotiations may prove more fruitful.”

“Negotiations will only serve to humiliate you before they kill the Courtiers anyways. If that bastard Duke Vehsil is anything like Faj, then they’ll do everything in their power to ensure you are not in power again. I’m the only one who can stop this without further bloodshed. You know this.” 

Her eyes widened in realization and she shook her head, “I should be the one leading a retaliation, not you. We will find a way in. We will-,” 

“You are the Countess.” I stated with a bite in my tone. “You cannot go in there. Without you, we are lost. I must be the one to go.” 

She grimaced, “There are other options we can pursue besides this.” 

I removed her hands from my shoulders to hold, “I have sworn myself to protect you and everything you love, my lady. They’re in our home, and I cannot allow them to defile it further.” 

“You’re included in those things I care about.” She whispered. 

I frowned with a sharp inhale. I took a step away from her then gave a low bow, “It’s been an honor, my lady.” 

Nadia closed her eyes with pinched brows and a deep frown. 

She bowed her head, “May the High Priestess smile upon you, Magician.” 

I turned away from her before she could have anyone try to stop me. I cast an invisibility spell over myself and slipped past the gates and into the palace with ease. An anger kindled in me at the sight of the ballroom. The priceless paintings were in flames, leaving the room filled with smoke, and furniture had been turned into splintered wood. I could only imagine most of the palace was in this same state of disarray.

I let this anger manifest into a massive ball of lightning. I sent the orb careening to the right wing of the palace, enjoying the way the lightning arched across the entire hallway with a deafening crack. I continued towards the throne room as Ahesha guards yelled for help to deal with the attack.

I snuck my way to the large double doors then pressed my palm against the intricate wood. I sensed people on the other side, but I wasn’t sure who. My magic seeped below my feet until I felt the familiar coolness of the Silver-Bark reaching back for me. A frigid coil formed in the pit of my stomach as my hand settled on the metal door handle. Whatever may happen, I only prayed Valerius would be alright.

“Ah, there she is.” A shrill voice made me whirl around. “Right on time.”

The sight of the woman behind me sent chills down my spine. She was pale, unnaturally so. It was as if she drained all the color from her skin. Her eyes were a startling black and I found it difficult to maintain eye contact with her. The magic radiating off of her was malicious, itching to lash out. 

She craned her head, “Something the matter? You weren’t expecting me?” Her face morphed into a wide grin as she came closer towards me. “That’s too bad. Because I’ve been waiting for you.” She pulled out the note I had sent and placed it against my chest. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Part 4

-------------

A/N: yeah... sorry nadia stans. but i like juicy conflict hehe. also i really wanted to show how angry the court mage is in the moment and what better way than to lash out at people hehe. Also, do you know what's gonna happen? Do you think this is all part of the plan, or has the court mage fallen right in to Ahesh hands?

#consul valerius #the arcana #the arcana game #fanfic #creative writing #arcana valerius #valerius x mc #court magician #arcana #fanfiction #the arcana fic #consul valerius x court magician

[qtipcottonbuds]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙊𝙔 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼 𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍𝙉 𝙄𝙉 𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙎𝙄𝘿𝙀.

helloooo my lovelies, so this was an anon request from this blog here (i do hope it’s okay) and i hope you enjoy !!

the request being;;

julian + “you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

warnings for themes of injuries, nurse/doctor terms are of course gender neutral, shameless flirting and pining !!!

by qtipcottonbuds 2021. do not repost.

𝗝𝗨𝗟𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Julian.”

“Doing what, pray tell; I am technically a doctor, so this does go within my decree, I’ll have you know- oh gods, don’t press down on it, ow-”

“Does being a doctor include using means beyond the sciences,” you remark, staring blankly at his slouched form, hidden by ale barrels - his only available responses being twitching and hissing, “exactly, just as I thought, now hold still.”

Curse mark still pulsating a deep purple (the rhythm almost mimicking that of a heartbeat) you pick up the pace and quickly undo his belt buckle, weaving the remaining parts of the leather out of the belt loops to act as a ligature; he was losing blood much faster than you thought. Ever the reckless man, you suppose it was inevitable that Julian would, of course, bite off more than he could chew. In this case transferring a deep gash from an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire of Vesuvian guardsmen, to himself, the wound on his upper thigh.

Regardless of the countless reminders of, “it’ll heal on its own, don’t worry,” it didn’t help ease the panic that accompanied watching him bleed out each time; often doing what you could to help the strain on his body in the process. Even if it was more for your benefit than his.

“You know, have I ever told you-”

Tightly winding the leather around his upper thigh just short of the wound, slacks now drenched with blood, you bite down harshly for extra support to keep the knot secure - knowing Julian, he’d undo it all in a second, repeating the recorded mantra once again.

“Julian, now really isn’t the time-”

“-how attractive you are, all worked up like this, my dear? This nurse roleplay would be very appealing, albeit the blood loss isn’t helping down there, so apologies for the lack of visuals for the moment,” sighing and resting on your heels, you finally meet his gaze - eyes boring into yours with a smirk.

Even heavily injured, Julian never failed to make you bashful, him now grinning at your flustered state.

“Would you just- okay, I’m going to lift you slightly, make sure to support your weight on your other leg, and I’m going to need you to give me the directions back to your place so I can treat this properly.”

“My place? My, you’re awfully eager, aren’t you-”

“Julian, please.”

#arcana julian #julian devorak #julian x male reader #julian x female reader #julian x gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #the arcana #the arcana game

[stelladea]

Starry Rendezvous

Hi @borednschooled! I'm your @arcanasecretcupid. I loved seeing how much depth and thought you’ve put into Claudia's character -- she was super fun to write. I hope you enjoy this slightly-spicy Claudia x Asra x Muriel! It's set in a vague-ish time period after Asra's upright ending. Happy Valentine's Day! (And thanks so much for organzing, @arcanecadenza :3)

Claudia-Nomusa’s customer-service smile slipped from her face as she waved at the final patron of the day. They had left her and Asra’s shop satisfied, a fragrant basket of pale pink flowers in their hands that would give their partner romantic dreams. The whole day had been filled with local Vesuvians strolling into the shop with intentions to buy magical gifts for their loved ones to celebrate Vesuvia’s national day of romance – and while Claudia was eager to assist them, every face filled with love and excitement only served to remind her painfully of Asra’s absence.

Asra had been gone for almost a week at Countess Nadia’s behest, assisting at the palace with some urgent court issues. While Muriel and Claudia were happy to spend time alone together in companionable silence, they each felt a piece of them missing – a hole in their souls – where Asra should have been in their everyday lives. The bed on the second floor of the shop seemed just a little too big and empty without Asra there, even with Muriel’s sizeable presence.

Claudia hadn’t heard word from Asra in a handful of days, and wondered if he even remembered that Vesuvia’s annual romance celebration was here – or, even worse, that Nadia had remembered and disregarded his need to return to his partners.

“Any news?” Claudia said hopefully as Muriel lumbered into the shop after checking the post. Inanna, his wolf, and Elna, her fennec fox, trotted in at his heels. He gave her an unreadable look and shook his head.

Claudia sighed and stooped to pet Elna as she rubbed her muzzle into her calf. “Maybe we should plan on just the two of us celebrating tonight, then.” Muriel nodded, his own face mirroring the disappointment Claudia felt, and she continued. “Surely Nadia would allow him to come back tonight, even if she needs him again tomorrow…”

“If she needs him for something important, you know she’ll make him stay,” Muriel rumbled sadly.

The rest of the afternoon passed without event, and Claudia could feel a sinking feeling of disappointment cloud over both her and Muriel, almost a physical weight on their shoulders. On this day, the one day a year Vesuvia celebrated romance and relationships, one of their trio would be missing, and it just wouldn’t be the same.

Just as Claudia was about to suggest they begin to make dinner plans, the door creaked open and a smiling figure with curling white hair slipped into the shop.

“Asra!” Claudia exclaimed, running to him. “You’re here!”

As they hugged, Muriel approached as well and wrapped his massive arms around them both. “I’m here,” Asra said, muffled, into her dark curls. “I’m sorry I was late.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re back now!” As Muriel released them, Claudia stepped back and smiled happily at Asra. Asra’s mouth curved, not into his gentle smile, but into his mischievous, upturned catlike grin.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Asra’s smug little smirk widened as he turned away from them both.

“But you just got here!” Claudia protested.

Asra said nothing as he slipped up the stairs to the bedroom, leaving Claudia and Muriel to stare at one another perplexedly.

***

After Claudia had finished closing up the shop, she could hear Muriel’s stomach rumbling from across the room, and knew it was time to start crafting dinner or else her mountain man would start getting ornery. She had no clue what Asra was up to, but she was getting tired of missing Asra still, even now that he was in the same building.

“Asra?” she called, walking up the stairs leading to the bedroom. “Asra, I don’t know what you’re doing, but Muriel and I are getting–”

She stepped into their bedroom, and Asra was standing in front of the open window, sharing a mischievous look with Faust, who was draped casually over his shoulders.

“Hungry?” Asra grinned. “Well, that’s perfect. Muriel! Come on up. I’m ready.”

“Ready?” Claudia raised an eyebrow as Muriel stumped up the stairs.

“Come, you two,” Asra beckoned, holding out his hand.

Claudia shook her head, nonplussed, and took his hand. Together, and to Claudia’s utter surprise, they climbed out of the window and onto the roof of the shop.

There, draped along the rooftop tiles, was a massive blanket covered in what couldn't be called anything but a feast. Honey-glazed figs, aromatic cheeses, crusty breads all lay on shining golden platters. Bowls of nuts, dried fish, and fresh fruit stood next to the massive carafe of red wine and a towering pile of chocolate-covered strawberries and pink heart-shaped cakelets. Plush pillows stolen from the bedroom served as cushions and lounge props.

“Nadia felt guilty for keeping me at the castle longer than anticipated,” Asra said, squeezing Claudia’s hand. “So she sent me home with all of this for us.”

Muriel carefully stepped onto the roof and stared mutely at the feast laid before them. He turned to Asra. “We thought you’d forgotten…”

“I could never forget,” Asra replied earnestly.

The three of them sat on the pillow wonderland and ate their fill as they swapped stories of their time apart, Asra describing the latest drama at the palace and Claudia recollecting the most interesting visitors to the shop.

Finally, their bellies full and mugs of wine topped off, Asra and Muriel settled themselves on either side of Claudia, cuddling close and gazing up at the stars.

“Each of the major Arcana have a constellation,” Asra murmured during a lull in the conversation, pointing upwards. “See – there’s the Magician, with the tail of the fox made up of those five stars. Looks a little like Elna, don’t you think?”

Claudia chuckled.

“And there – there’s the Empress, with her wings expanding out of those stars… Muriel, where’s the Hermit? You’re always good at finding the constellations.”

Claudia and Asra looked toward Muriel, who had been staring at them both. At their glance, he blushed. “I always forget where they are when you two are around… to distract me…” He mumbled.

Claudia smiled, placing a hand on Muriel’s cheek. “That’s sweet,” she said, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his.

Muriel did as he always did when kissed – he shivered in surprise before melting with pleasure into Claudia’s embrace, kissing her back in full.

“So I get a show today…” chuckled Asra, wrapping an arm around Claudia’s waist. From behind, he began to kiss along the nape of her neck, sending a thrill of goosebumps down her spine.

Something like electricity crackled through the air. The three of them, here, now, finally reunited after a time apart. The air was rife with bottled up tension.

Claudia moved her lips down to Muriel’s jawline, and a desperate moan escaped his lips. He leaned back, lying down on the blankets beneath them. With his cheeks flushed and hair splayed across the blankets, Claudia couldn’t help but to surge forward, straddling him.

“Well, that’s a nice sight to see…” murmured Asra. He closed the distance between them, pressing himself against Claudia’s back. Claudia could feel the heat rising in her belly as Asra’s fingers teased beneath her blouse, brushing along the sensitive skin of her waist. Claudia herself couldn’t hold back a sigh of pleasure as Asra moved his hands downward, dragging his hands down each of her thighs and biting gently at the skin of her shoulder, humming with satisfaction.

Claudia leaned down to press her lips against Muriel’s as Asra’s hands continued to wander, their kisses frequently interrupted by gasps of surprise and pleasure. Muriel pawed one massive hand across Claudia’s chest as she strained against her shirt, his other hand gripping around Asra’s shoulder in a desperate attempt at bringing them closer. Claudia could feel Muriel’s chest rising and falling in uneven gasps, his heart fluttering with anticipation.

When Muriel spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Shouldn’t – shouldn’t we go back – inside –”

Claudia looked up from their rendezvous surreptitiously. No windows faced their rooftop, and no onlookers had decided to make their own rooftops a romantic getaway, so she leaned down and kissed him reassuringly.

“Only the constellations can see us from here,” she murmured.

Needless to say, they did not make it back to the bedroom to continue their celebration of Vesuvia’s national day of romance.

#the arcana secret cupid #arcana #the arcana #arcanasecretcupid #claudia-nomusa abara #oc x asra x muriel #asra the magician #asra alnazar #muriel #the arcana game #borednschooled

[dearlazerbunny]

I Made This For You (i hope you like it)

Pairings: Apprentice/Muriel, Apprentice & Asra

Chapter 2 of ?

Summary: You're back from the dead, but all Muriel can think of is all the things that died with you. Maybe finding you all over again is exactly what he needs.

(Non-canon compliant in that Apprentice/Muriel's relationship is established before their death. Apprentice is gender neutral.)

You dream of a Vesuvia twenty years younger in stature and fifty years younger in spirit.

Every stall of the market is bursting with wares, domestic and exotic, and merchants are calling to the throngs of people in a dozen different languages. Shoppers haggle under brightly dyed canopies hung to stave off the worst of the bright Vesuvian summer sun. The hum of the crowds is electric, threading through the air and making you thrum from the tips of your ears all the way down to the cobblestones.

There’s a basket tucked in the crook of your arm, full of odds and ends, and you weave through the crowds with a practiced ease- certainly a lot surer of your footsteps than you are now. It’s strange to see yourself move confidently, deftly, with a blush on your cheeks from both the summer heat and the intoxicating atmosphere swirling around you.

A particular stall catches your eye, and you veer off to the side. Buckets and crates of strange looking foods tumble onto the table and gleam enticingly in the light. The vendor himself is using a pocketknife to cut chunks of yellow flesh from a fruit and popping them in his mouth; he uses the back of his hand to wipe juice from his stubbled chin. “Interested?” He grins at you. “Best prices you’ll find today. What’re you hungry for?”

“Mmm.” You glance over the stacks, brushing one or two with your fingertips. “What’s your favorite?”

His smile gets wider, and he loads your basket with four plump-looking apples, each one a different color. “Three for the price of four,” he winks at you, and you wave him off with a roll of your eyes and a few copper coins before continuing on your way. Asra had told you to meet him at midday, in a little spot tucked away from the main hustle and bustle but still offering a beautiful view of the people and the canals. He’s out doing house calls, and knowing him the magician will take any excuse to chat about his client’s remedies, their kids, the summer season- you’d bet the rest of the coin in your pocket he’ll be late, and you don’t plan on waiting with an empty stomach.

Distracted by the day and your thoughts, you don’t have time to stop yourself before slamming directly into a wall. You teeter for a moment, almost able to catch yourself on a scrap of fabric in front of you, but ultimately land hard on the street, biting your lip and skinning your hands in the process. The apples roll in every direction, and the rest of your basket tips to the side and spills onto the road.

“Ah, shit,” you wince, feeling the sting in your hands. What in the world had you run into? When you look up, you’re surprised to see it’s not a wall you ran into, but a person.

A man, with shaggy dark hair and beautiful green eyes, his cloak now pulled haphazardly around his shoulders. He’s looking curiously back at you- dear god, how tall is he? He could easily clear any of the merchant’s tents. You can feel a sting spread across your face to match your hands. “I am so sorry!” You manage to get out, absolutely mortified. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, and-” you hastily pick up what you can reach and throw it back in the basket, then haul yourself off the ground. “Um, here, let me-” you reach out and straighten the bewildered stranger’s cloak, now looking at you with wide eyes. “There, fixed. I’m so, so sorry, I hope you’re not hurt…?” You sincerely doubt it, considering the size of the man, but it’s something to fill the awkward silence. You cast about for your misplaced fruit- one to your left, one precariously close to foot traffic, and one just behind you. You turn, and the man is holding out the fourth to you.

“Th- thank you. I appreciate it.” You look at it for a moment before taking it, shining it on your shirt, then offering it back. “Would you care to try one?” He raises an eyebrow. “I must admit I don’t quite know what it is myself, it just caught my eye at the market. The vendor said it was supposed to be sweet…”

He blinks, then carefully takes the apple from you. “Thank you.”

His voice is deep and rich, and it makes you smile. “You’re welcome. Do you mind if I wait here with you? I’m supposed to meet a friend, but he’s pretty much always late.” He doesn’t respond, so you take that as a yes, setting down your basket at your feet and leaning against the brick wall behind you. A bite of the fruit proves it is indeed sweet, and you giggle as juice runs down your chin and threatens to drip all over your shirt. In between bites, you try to keep the conversation going, but the man seems content to let you ramble and answer your own questions aloud. His own food is gone so fast he practically inhaled it, and without thinking you reach down and toss him another piece of fruit from the basket. He doesn’t seem disinterested - he doesn’t walk away, at least, though he certainly could. Occasionally it looks like he might say something and respond, then thinks better of it and keeps his mouth shut. You find yourself wanting to know what he would say, if this were a proper conversation. You also aren’t quite sure why you care about this stranger from the market’s thoughts, but something about him seems… unique.

With how far the sun has travelled across the sky, you’re ready to give up on Asra completely and head home until you finally see a familiar white head of hair bobbing through the crowd. He catches your eye and waves wildly, trying to zigzag through the people to reach you faster. As he gets closer, he sees the person you with and for a moment his facial expression looks absolutely devilish. He takes a running start, leaps into the air, and lands on the stranger’s back.

You clap a hand over your mouth. “Asra! What in the gods’ name-?!” Asra is laughing too hard to speak, and to his credit the man didn’t even faulter with the added weight of the magician on his back- just compensated by taking a half step forward. He’s got his left hand wrapped around Asra’s ankle, pulling it closer so he can better cling to his back. There’s definitely a blush on his cheeks that isn’t from the sun, and you’d never think to call a man of his size cute, but… it’s pretty cute. Especially when he shrugs his head to try to get more of his bangs to fall down in his face.

“I see you two already met!” Asra’s purple eyes are shiny, gleaming. He points to the other man’s face, which is a tad unnecessary considering the position they’re in. “This is Muriel! He’s one of my oldest friends.”

Now you do giggle, mostly at the man- Muriel’s- facial expression. It’s halfway between annoyed and fond, like he’d just as easily let Asra fall on his butt if he wanted. “Well, Muriel. It’s very nice to meet you.” You extend a hand, and Muriel let’s go of Asra’s foot- causing the magician to wobble and give a shout of objection- before shaking it. His hands are worn soft, warm, and absolutely dwarf yours.

“You too.” You smile- a real smile, one that crinkles your eyes- and despite the rest of your interaction, Muriel smiles back. The sun seems to get a little bit brighter in the sky.

“Oooh, did you get anything good?” Asra finally dismounts his friend, jumping off his back like he’s done it a million times, and picks up your basket from where it’s set beside you.

“Stop, nosy!” you laugh and shove him in the side. “Not much of anything, stuff we needed for the shop. I got some extra sage; I know we were running low-”

“The apples were good,” Muriel comments, putting the seeds and core into a pocket that must be hidden in his cloak.

“You got apples?! Did you save me one?”

You glance down at your basket. Then up at Muriel, mock horror on your face. “I think we ate them all.”

“All of them? Stars, Muriel, save some for the rest of us!”

Muriel puts on an appropriately sorrowful face, and when the magician isn’t looking, he winks at you.

You wake up still feeling the sun on your face.

You’re in bed, in the shop. There’s light coming from your window, but it pales in comparison to the weather from your dreams. Asra is moving around downstairs, probably getting ready to close for the day. You sigh and sink back into your pillows. Your dream… what was it about? You met someone. Someone important. You rack your brains, trying to pull together threads from sleep, but they dissolve into something insubstantial just as you’re able to envision even a touch of whoever it was you were meeting. So frustrating.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Asra climbs the last few stairs into the upstairs rooms. “You had quite the adventure yesterday.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” You bury your face in your hands. “I feel like an idiot. You should’ve come with me.”

“Hey.” He gives your nose a tap with his index finger. “It’s okay. You’re back and safe. Though we probably won’t be repeating that little trip anytime soon. Hungry?” He hands you a bowl of rice pudding, and you attack it eagerly, the spices comforting and familiar.

“Were you dreaming about something?” When you look up, Asra is already studying you with those unreadable eyes. “You kept mumbling something or other. I couldn’t make it out.”

You shake your head. “I- I don’t remember. I think I was meeting someone. At the market?” You- you jumped on to someone’s back…?” You laugh a little at that idea.

Asra stares at you for a moment- obviously also put off by the idea of getting a piggyback ride- then blinks and turns away. “It’ll get better.” “You’re getting stronger by the day; you’re bound to recover some of your memories, if not fully.”

“Maybe.” You aren’t convinced. “How did I get home? I remember collapsing in the woods, but that’s it.”

“Oh, um. Faust and I found you, right before the storm started. Luckily we got you home in time. You’ve been asleep since then.”

This sounds right- Asra finding you, rescuing you, that all makes sense. But it doesn’t feel right- like there’s more blanks in that sentence to fill in. Somewhere in your brain there’s a locked door, and no matter how many times you pound on the wood, jiggle the handle, or try to pick the lock, it remains so stubbornly shut. You know there’s something important back there- there’s a hole in your chest to prove it. The key to get to it remains a mystery. “Anyways, next time I want to go foraging, you’re coming with me.”

Asra snorts. “At the current moment I don’t trust you to go downstairs alone, much less outside the shop.”

You throw a pillow at him, and it thumps against his chest, his laugh ringing in the room along with your good-natured smile. Faust peeks out from his collar, giving a sleepy blink and a slow flick of her tongue. Ouch!

Notes: I headcanon that Asra was a very mischievous upbeat sprite and Muriel wasn't quite so people averse before everything went to shit

#the arcana #the arcana game #muriel x you #muriel x apprentice #muriel x mc #muriel x reader #muriel #asra #reader insert #non canon

[famej]

Waking up beside you

Asra Aznavar x Reader

Through the window, the sun streamed one of its rays, directly falling upon your face.

Under the light, your eyes fluttered open, almost burning your cornea in the process. With a sigh, you rolled toward the other side of the bed, avoiding all the reminder that it wasn’t time to dream anymore.

On the other side, not as bright as the sun but not far behind, Asra was still asleep.

His fluffy mane of white hair was framing his face like a cloud, there was a thin thread of drool pouring from his slightly parted lips, an expression of pure quietness overtaking his features.

You smiled tiredly at the sight of him and slid on the sheet, in order to get closer to him.

The need to touch his tanned skin, running your fingers along its smoothness  got the better of you and there you went, stroking his bare shoulder, slowly making your way down his arm until your reached his hand .

You intertwined you fingers with his, stroking the back of his hand with you thumb, your gaze finding its way back to his face.

Everytime you had the occasion to stare at him, wearing his peaceful expression. But it was especially during those moment that you aprreciated his adorable face the most. Damn, you were so lucky to have Asra by your side.

Your already fast-beating heart accelerated when you felt his fingers tighten around yours, squeezing your hand in return.

Asra didn’t even open his eyes, but lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to its back.

Then, he opened his eyes, shifting his blue orbs to you, eyelids fluttering a few times before his plump lips curved into a smile

« Morning, my love »

The words came out as a raspy whisper, making your heart flutter as they reached your ear.

« Good morning »

With your hand still intertwined with his, the effect he had on you became unbearable and you slid over to the handsome man, settling comfortably against him.

His free hand came to your head, stroking your haire ver so softly that it made you wish to go back to sleep

« Tell me we can stay there all day ? »

His laugh, like music to your ears, emphasized your wish to never leave this bed.

« I feel you, dear but if we do, who the vesuvian people will seek magical help from ? »

« Sure but who will keep me warm until tonight, when I finally get to have you close to me again ? »

The words were barely out that Asra’s grip on your hand loosened and he wrapped himself around you, tucking you protectively against him, pulling the sheets over the two of you, shielding you from the outside world, while you kept to your love cocoon.

Your head was in the crook of his neck, his, right on top.

« There’s nothing for you to fear. This time, I’ll never let you go, I’ll always be within reach to let you fell my warmth and my love »

Your face flushed at those sweet words, because, yes, the magician’s power over you was sos strong that he could make you melt with his words only.

#the arcana #asra #asra aznavar #asra x reader #asra imagine #the arcana game #otome game #dating sim

[into-the-daniverse]

Chosen Family | Camia (ft. Jamil & the D’Oria)

This takes place directly after Under Control, from Camia’s POV as she meets the D’Oria for the first time, and finally finds a place and a family to call her own.

They are both around 12 here, Camia having just escaped Vesuvia a few months prior.

CW: Death mention, mention of abuse

Title: Chosen Family by Rina Sawayama 3.3k words

Jamil didn’t let go of Camia’s hand for almost the entirety of the ride from the Sea Palace to the D’Oria estate in Venterre. She guessed he needed it as much as she did, since she had stopped shaking a few hours in and was now only bouncing her leg slightly out of nervousness while the scenery outside the caravan changed. Though he had initially fought it, Jamil was asleep, head on her shoulder, as he had been for the past hour.

Jamil’s grandfather, however, was still very much awake, and he had been watching them for a while. Camia was… afraid of him, at least a little. His first impression was to storm down the hallways of the library at the Palace and yell at Drago—which, while she appreciated it, made it hard for her to relax in his presence for the moment.

So, when he cleared his throat gently to speak to her, Camia jumped, eyes wide and spooked as they turned to him. Jamil’s grandfather—Camia vaguely remembered Jamil telling her his name was Eugenio—held his hands up in apology, speaking in Venterrean.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear, I’m sorry.”

Jamil stirred in his sleep. After a moment, Camia shook her head. “It’s alright. Thank…” She played with the edges of her tunic between her fingers, struggling to remember what little Venterrean she knew how to speak. “Thank you for taking us away. From…”

“From my abhorrently rude cousin, yes.” Eugenio sighed, running a hand down his face, through his mostly white beard. “Why my daughter thought to send Jamil there—well, I suppose I do know why, but that fact that she still would—” He paused, looking up at Camia, and she noticed her hand had tightened into a fist, blue sparks of her magic flickering out.

She shook her hand out with a shudder, quickly glancing at Jamil to make sure she hadn’t hurt him with her other hand, but he was still asleep. Letting out a small sigh of relief, she slowly turned her gaze back to the man in front of her, tucking her hand under her leg.

He gave her a small smile. “Forgive me, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“It… It’s Camía.” Worrying at her bottom lip, she continued. “Camía-Marie… Baudelaire.”

If Eugenio knew who she was, who her family was, he did nothing to suggest it, simply nodding. “Ah, Vesuvian. My apologies, again.” he began to speak in her much more familiar tongue of Vesuvian. “We can speak like this, if you’d like.”

She nodded back at him. “Thank you.”

“Does that… happen often?” He gestured to her hand. “Sparks when you are angry, or afraid?”

Camia pulled her hand out from under her, looking it over. “Yes,” she murmured. “I don’t… I don’t want to hurt anyone with it, but it feels like I can’t control it, sometimes.”

“Mm.” Eugenio held his hand out to her. “May I?” When she gave him her hand, he held it between his much larger, warm, wrinkled hands, humming to himself. “You have some very powerful magic, my dear.”

She winced, feeling her eyes start to well up with tears. “I hate it,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s evil—I don’t want it if—if all I can do with it is hurt others.”

“I understand,” he murmured, patting the back of her hand gently. “But magic is neither good nor bad. It just is. And it is up to you to decide how to use it.”

“What if I don’t want to use it at all?”

“Then that’s your decision.”

He let go of her hand and she held it to her chest, mind flitting over the previous four years, where she wasn’t given any kind of decision regarding her magic. Her father had expected her to fight, forced her to fight, and so she fought. And she hurt people when she fought, even—even killing someone—

“Camía.” Eugenio’s voice shocked her out of her thoughts, and when she glanced up at him again, tears slid down her cheeks. He sighed, reaching out to wipe her tears away with the long sleeves of his kimono. “You are safe. I won’t let your father take you away.”

She sniffed, squeezing Jamil’s hand slightly. “You know… about him? About who I am?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, the Baudelaires have tangled with my family before. And word travels fast, especially from someone as loud-mouthed as Bénédict.” Eugenio sat back, gesturing to his still sleeping grandson. “Does he know?”

“A little bit.” Camia sighed, rubbing at her eyes, though more tears quickly began to form. “I don’t… I don’t want him to hate me if I tell him everything, but it hurts—”

A light chuckle from Eugenio surprised her. He was looking at Jamil with a gentle fondness that made her heart ache, wishing someone would have ever looked at her that way.

“I may not have spent as much time with him as I would have liked up until now, since my daughter kept him—and his siblings for that matter—from our family, but I know my grandson would not hate you for the pain your family put you through. He threatened my cousin for you, and he is no fighter.”

Camia thought back to the barely concealed look of fury in Drago’s eyes when Jamil had stood between them—how Jamil was barely the same height she was, how he had confessed that he was terrified of Drago just a few nights prior, and yet, still he had stood in front of her when Drago was in her face. She rested her head against his, still on her shoulder, lightly.

“We D’Oria are loyal people, Camía,” Eugenio continued. “We pick our friends, our family, carefully, but once we do, there is nothing we wouldn’t do for those we love. Jamil picked you, and you are part of us now. For as long as you want to be.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Slowly, a smile spread across her face, for what felt like the first time in a while. “Thank you.”

Eugenio smiled back at her, reaching out to pat her cheek. “Why don’t you get some rest? It will still be a few hours before we reach our destination, and you look tired.”

She wasn’t sure she was going to be able to rest, but she nodded anyway, and as soon as her eyes slid shut, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

Over the next few weeks, Jamil and Camia settled into a pretty solid schedule at Il Palazzo D'Oria. Jamil would have his studies for most of the day, being passed around between most of his aunts and uncles, and few of his older cousins, and Camia was expected to follow and study with him. While he brushed up on his Vesuvian, she learned more Venterrean, and the two often only spoke in those languages to each other as they learned.

She was also picking up some Prakran—though mostly just curses and other unpleasant phrases that would make Jamil’s uncle Francesco wrinkle his nose and scold Jamil for whenever they managed to slip out.

Speaking of his family, Camia hadn’t been properly prepared for how big the D’Oria family was. Jamil had more aunts, uncles, and cousins than she could count, though luckily most of them lived on further stretches of land than the main estate that she and Jamil were staying at. That didn’t mean she wasn’t expected to meet all of them eventually. Because with how eager they all were to see Jamil, more and more extended family showed up every week. And the names. Oh, Camia thought she would never get all of their names down.

Jamil’s grandfather was Eugenio Matteo II, and he was mostly referred to as “Papa” by his children, or “Jiji” by his grandchildren. He had a son, Jamil’s uncle, who was Eugenio Matteo III, who most of the family referred to as “Eugenio,” or “Zio Genio.” Another uncle of Jamil’s, Feliciano, had a child who was Eugenio Matteo IV, but they were just called “Matteo.”

The first time Jamil explained that to her, Camia felt her head spin, but she was slowly starting to get a hang on it.

Something else she had to adjust to was the fact that almost no one called Jamil, “Jamil,” instead, he was called “Alfonso,” or even “Alfonsino,” though that always made Jamil grimace. His grandmother was named Alfonsa, which was where he received his middle name from, and though Camia had only seen her once since coming to Venterre, she thought Alfonsa looked too much like Jamil’s mother for comfort.

However, for the most part, neither of them had to think about Jamil’s mother much, as it seemed that the rest of the D’Oria family didn’t agree with Chiara’s thoughts about her son, and they made sure to let Jamil know that he was welcomed and loved just as he was. Which extended to Camia, to her surprise, that she was just as welcomed as him, and the rest of his family quickly took a liking to her, greeting her as she walked with Jamil.

Jamil’s uncle Marco especially took a liking to her. Marco Antonio Cavallini was a world-renowned fencer, and he taught all of his children, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren that wanted to learn how to fence, Jamil being no exception. But it seemed Eugenio’s comment of Jamil not being a fighter had been correct, as he often struggled with treating it like a fight.

Once Marco described it as a dance instead, Jamil picked it up much faster, and Marco eventually asked Camia to join them. She looked, wide-eyed, between the two of them, and flinched when Jamil held a saber out to her.

“Come on, child, I know you’ve been studying just as well as he has,” Marco said, strawberry blonde, curly hair pulled neatly out of his face.

Jamil spoke quietly to her, and she could see concern in his eyes. “Cami, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Camia gave him a soft smile but took the saber from him. She didn’t want to fight Jamil, didn’t want to hurt him, but this, this was different. It was just a dance, and she could do that well. Marco was right in that she had been studying, she watched Jamil’s lessons intensely, and would often practice with him or by herself at night, drilling the motions into her head.

It didn’t take long for Camia to win against Jamil, and Marco let out a booming laugh, clapping her on the back. “Ay, Alfonsino, your friend here is a much better fencer than you are!”

Camia’s cheeks flushed. Hurriedly she turned to look at Jamil, afraid he would be upset, but he was smiling at her. “I know,” he said, and she glanced down, trying to hide her own smile.

But so far, Camia’s favorite member of Jamil’s family was his uncle Feliciano. Twin brother to Francesco, Feliciano worked in the vineyards more than anyone else, his skin almost as dark as Jamil’s from the sun, and he adored Camia.

The first time she met him, Jamil had been inside with Eugenio—his grandfather—one afternoon, playing the piano under strict guidance while Camia sat outside, humming along. Swinging her legs in time with the music underneath her as she sat on the raised walkway, she saw Feliciano resting under a willow tree, and when he noticed her stare, he waved at her.

“You’re Alfonsino’s little friend, hm?”

She nodded, her legs slowing. He gestured for her to join him, and she did, seeking out the coolness of the shade. Once seated, she could see his face more clearly, and felt herself smiling back at his warm brown eyes.

“Camarie, was it?”

With a giggle, she shook her head. “Camía-Marie. But Jamil just calls me Camia.”

“Ah, Ca-mi-a,” Feliciano said, twirling the end of his curling beard around his finger. “I’m Alfonso’s Zio Feliciano.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she replied, and he smiled.

“Do you like music, Camia?”

“Yes, sir.”

“No, none of that.” He waved his hand in front of his face, scrunching his nose. “Just call me what Alfonso does.”

Camia felt her cheeks warm, but she nodded. “Yes… Zio.”

“Much better.” He paused, listening to the piano coming from inside, and began to hum lightly along. “Do you play?”

“Only a little. Jamil’s better than I am.”

“Hm. Are you interested in any other instruments?”

“Other instruments?”

“Alfonsino has his guitar, does he not?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And you? Is there another instrument you would like to learn?”

Camia thought for a moment. She watched a band play just the other day, traveling through Venterre. One of the members had an instrument Jamil informed her was called a violin, and the sound it made stayed with her ever since.

“Maybe a violin,” she said, and Feliciano’s eyes lit up.

“A musician after my own heart! My darling Elizabeth—her middle name is Marie, too, just like yours—played violin; it’s how we met in the first place. She doesn’t so much anymore, what with our Matteo and all, but I bet she would be willing to teach you if you’d like.”

This time it was Camia’s turn to light up, and she leaned towards him in excitement. “Really?”

“Of course!” He smiled at her. “We can even try to schedule it around Alfonso’s time with Papa, so you don’t have to miss your other studies.”

Camia hugged him before she could stop herself, but as she went to pull away, his strong arms wrapped around her, hugging her gently back, and she felt her eyes well with tears.

Jamil was, of course, ecstatic for her, and he made her promise that they would play together as soon as they could, and she agreed wholeheartedly. It didn’t take long for either of them to improve, and before a month had passed, they were practicing together, Jamil on his guitar, and Camia on her violin—that Feliciano’s wife Elizabeth was letting her use until they could get her one of her own.

But, while Camia was overjoyed to be living with the D’Oria and Jamil, she still couldn’t quite shake the feeling of dread and paranoia that settled on her shoulders, no matter how much time passed. She was terrified that, despite what Eugenio had said, her father would find her, and take her back. And beyond that, she was terrified that Jamil, and the rest of his family, would find out about what she had done, and they wouldn’t want anything to do with her anymore.

She would look in the mirror of the bathroom she shared with Jamil, see the scar running across her face as a reminder of what she had done, of the fact that she had killed the person who gave that to her, and she hated it. And the longer she looked, the angrier she felt, until she could see blue flames when she exhaled, and her fists would be engulfed in fire. That just made her more frustrated, more scared—if she couldn’t keep her flames from appearing, that meant she wouldn’t be able to keep from hurting someone else, from hurting Jamil.

She thought Jamil hadn’t noticed her turmoil, but he had, and one night while she was staring herself down in the mirror, he approached her.

“Cami?”

His voice pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts, but her hands were still covered in flames.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m—” She tried to hurry the flames out, but they weren’t going away. “I’m fine.” Taking a deep breath, she shoved down her anger and watched the flames shrink around her hands. Figuring that was good enough, she grabbed the door to the bathroom and exited into Jamil’s room instead of her own on accident.

He gasped when she almost ran into him, and after muttering an apology under her breath, Camia turned to go back to her room. But before she could go anywhere, Jamil reached out and grabbed her wrist, still hot from her flames.

“Ow!” He winced, pulling his hand back. “Gods, that was hot.”

Camia thought she was going to faint, and she held her hands close to her, stepping away from Jamil. She hurt him. Her magic, her flames, she hurt him, just like she was afraid she would.

“Hey, are you alright?” He took a step towards her, and she took another step back. “Cami, are you hurt?”

“Stop, stay back.”

“What?”

“I said stay back!” She could hear the sparks in her hands igniting and she tried to force them away. She would never forgive herself if her magic chose now to act out against her will. “Please,” she cried. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jamil sounded confused, and he kept moving towards her, slowly, like she was a scared animal. “You won’t hurt me.”

“I already did, and this—I-I can’t control it.”

“Yes, you can.” He reached out to her, his hands on her shoulders. “You can control it; you can do so many amazing things.”

She tried to shake him off, but he held onto her, and she only felt more frustrated. “Jamil, you don’t get it, I’m not like you, I-I’m not amazing, I did awful things, and for years—"

“I know.” He took her hands in his firmly, staring at her with the most serious look she had ever seen from him. “Cami, I know.”

“You… know?”

Turning her hands over, he stroked the skin around her palms, watching blue sparks fizzle and die. “I mean… maybe not all of it. But pieces. I know your father hurt you, made you do things you didn’t want to—”

Camia’s voice felt stuck in her throat. “I killed someone.”

He paused, but shrugged, and she watched his eyes trace the scar on her face. “You were scared.” Her breath came out in a sob as he continued. “You were scared, and you were put in a position no one should have ever put you in, and you defended yourself. Right?”

She nodded, tears falling into her hands, sizzling where they landed.

“I’m sure there’s more to it, to the years you spent alone, and maybe one day you’ll want to tell me.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, his own eyes shining with tears. “Or maybe you won’t. But I know that whatever happened to you, whatever you did, it wasn’t your fault. And Cami…” He sighed, pulling her into a hug. “I will never hate you for it.”

At that, Camia started to weep, burying her face in Jamil’s neck, her shoulders shaking as her hands fell to her sides. He continued to hold her, the two of them sinking to the floor, wrapping around each other. She sobbed against him for what felt like hours, but he never asked her to leave, or gave any indication that he was uncomfortable, he just sat and held her, and cried with her.

When they had both calmed down enough, Jamil spoke, his voice soft. “I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you again, okay? I promise. You… you’re my friend, you’re a part of my family now.”

“Okay,” she replied, shakily. “Jamil?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re my best friend.” She hugged him again, rubbing against his now wet shirt. “Thank you.”

He didn’t reply, but only because he had started crying again, hugging her back. Eventually they managed to move themselves to his bed, but they never let go of each other, falling asleep with their legs tangled and cheeks wet.

In the morning, Camia woke up before him, and while she felt a bit embarrassed at how much she had cried, she had to admit that she did feel better.

She would tell Jamil everything about what she had gone through at the hands of her father and his obsession with her magic, one day. But for now, she was content knowing that he knew the worst of it, and still cared for her.

And that was enough for her.

#daniverse fic #my fic #camia #jamil #the d'oria #abuse mention #abuse cw #death mention #i #am in pain #im going to hug baby camia in my mind now

[the-melting-world]

Escapade

~ In which a suave shoe cobbler is interrupted by a charming seamstress...

These two have been on my mind for too long! They were determined to finally meet. Thank you @borednschooled for letting me borrow the handsome Javier. I hope I did him justice! 💖

Music: "Escapade" by Janet Jackson

~ 750 words

****

Somewhere deep in the Vesuvian borough of Little Firent, a well dressed man was propped against a wall, peeling an orange.

His name was Javier Navarro and he was searching his memories for the best method to get this orange undone. He tried to remember how his late mother would have gone about it.

But he came up short.

“Damn everything.”

It was the first curse of many more that were far less tame. They came out of Javier’s mouth the moment he realized that juice had squirted across the front of his embroidered champagne vest.

Determined to free himself from as much of the stain as he could, he quickly wrapped up the half-peeled orange in a handkerchief and tucked it away in his pocket. Then he pulled out a back-up kerchief and started dabbing insistently at the mess.

A loud cough somewhere off to the left broke Javier’s concentration. He paused and looked up to see someone else occupying the narrow side street.

Javier couldn’t decide if they were in need of help or simply taking a break against the wall just as he was.

The longer Javier stared at the stranger’s sky blue hair and breezy attire, the more he appreciated what he saw.

“Were you insulting that orange just now?” The stranger asked, grinning partly behind a decorative fan. With one arm they supported their weight on the wall and with the other they gently batted the fan to cool themselves off.

Javier, who was in a better mood now, gestured down his front. “It insulted me first.”

The pretty fan paused just above the stranger’s nose. Their dark eyes became soft and watchful as they scanned Javier’s form, the hidden half of their face giving nothing away.

“If you’re worrying that the orange made a fool out of you, please don’t. It did not succeed.” The stranger said with a voice like silk. Their body shifted towards Javier, but they stumbled and dropped their fan, bracing themselves on the wall with both hands.

Javier rushed to help them. He gathered their fallen accessory and brushed away the debris from the panels of swan feathers and beaded lace.

“Pardon me, but do you need a hand?” Javier asked as he returned their belongings.

“Would you, darling?” A lock of blue hair had spilled into their eyes. They tucked it behind their ear. “Just to the nearest cafe. I tried to be efficient and take a shortcut, but had I known there would be so many stairs…”

They told Javier that their name was Solo. After Javier introduced himself, the two of them fell into idle chatter as they walked together. They moved very slowly at first. Javier could tell that Solo still needed to catch their breath despite their attempt to hide it. If he wasn’t paying attention to the well-timed intakes of breath during the lulls in the conversation, he would have missed it.

When they reached the cafe, Solo exhaled in what could have only been relief.

They patted their escort’s arm. “Javier, you saved me this afternoon, truly. You’re an angel.”

Javier adjusted his glasses. “I’m no angel.” His sly smile disappeared into his mustache.

“A knight then.” Solo said breezily and gestured with their fan. “In shining citrus.”

Javier laughed. So did Solo, covering their face as they did so.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Javier said, “And perhaps a pastry to help get your energy back up.”

Solo gave the brightest of smiles. “How could I say no?”

While the two of them were entering the cafe, Solo chuckled, “You know, you could just become my sugar daddy. Then you’d never have to ask.”

Javier’s eyes lit up. “Sugar daddy?” He leaned towards their ear, whispering, “Where do I sign? Can I start tomorrow?”

A flash of white feathers and lace suddenly eclipsed his vision of Solo.

“Mmm. I was only teasing, Javi.”

It was a while before the fan came down. Not until after they were both sitting with their coffee. Composed once again, Solo’s face finally resurfaced. Javier was worried that he had ruined the date before it had even begun when Solo suddenly dived into a new line of questions.

Javier didn’t expect Solo to ask about his profession or where he went to get his clothes made. But they had and so he told them. There was something about Solo’s magnetic charm and easy conversation that made Javier forget all about the orange stains from before.

#spoiler alert: whenever solo hides behind his fan it means he's freaking out or blushing a lot #the arcana #solo the seamstress #javier navarro #the seamstress and the cobbler

[luasworkshop]

Heeeeey so I have a new character for the Vesuvian setting sort of coming together (he's not an MC - rather he's part of the nobility), here's some info on him:

Evander Murena

Age: Middle (Somewhere in His 50s)

Favorite Meal: Spice Seared Cod

Favorite Drink: Tom Collins

Favorite Flower: Dark Blue Hydrangeas

The current head of house for a very old Vesuvian family (not a founding family of the city state, but close), this nobleman lives with his disabilities (sailing injuries that nearly killed him) while maintaining one of Vesuvia’s largest shipping/trading empires. He's not "I'm not like other nobles" he definitely enjoys his excess and sequestered himself and his people away on his grounds during the plague, but he still has a very vested interest in un-fucking infrastructure (and protecting his own, from his immediate staff to the crew of his ships.) He is definitely on the ‘enlightened’ side of ‘enlightened self-interest.’ His family is VERY old money, and he's currently the head of house, though presently has no heirs much to extended family frustration (and he's DEFINITELY not a young man anymore.) From their view, it's less about 'he needs to make a baby' and 'why hasn't he PICKED someone' (answer being that most of them drive him up a wall and the temptation to will it all to the city gets more and more tempting every day.) “One MORE of you goddamn assholes gives another 'oh it's such a shame that-' or 'oh you would have been so handsome if-' or 'well if you would just appoint someone to-' and I'm gonna bite your nose off and see how you like.”

There are many extended familial relations, but Evander is an only child and his parents and grandparents have passed on. Those within the family looking to curry favor with him are generally his many (many– mom and dad had many siblings) cousins and their various offspring. There’s an aunt or uncle or two or five of his occasionally breathing down his neck as well. Most are still in good standing enough to freely visit his estate, but the social dance he plays with them is both terse and pointed – he doesn't have time to string people along and he refuses to be strung along himself. The family itself has some nobility ties, but is primarily a merchant family, and therefore having some interesting relations with other Vesuvian nobility (who, for all the family's age and sccuess does view them as 'nouveau riche' at times). As the shipping empire is tremendous, the family holds an immense amount of power and sway.

He has never had anyone even remotely close enough to him to consider marrying for love, and after a slew of engagement proposals both put upon and pulled away from him during his convalescence he’s not keen to marry for business either. These proposals were put upon him for a myriad of reasons – wanting to get him hitched while he was still alive when he wasn’t doing well (inheritance dealing), people looking to take advantage of him and his family while stressed from this (theft), families hoping to entreat favors by being so ‘sacrificing’ as to help the ‘wounded’ family (social standing). And they were taken away for a similar myriad – seeing his return to health and loosing interest because of his disfigurements (rude), not wanting some precious offspring to be stuck with a ‘cripple’ (very rude), and questions of his sanity/long term stability dealing with a lifetime ahead of him living with disability (extremely rude).

The family is known for throwing eccentric but shrewd people, and while the business minutia is delegated, keeping the whole organism of money, trade, and fortune functioning is his deal – ensuring all of that delegation remains functional is ALSO a whole business in Vesuvia – weeding out corruption and dealing with missed connections and all that. Evander has been doing things long enough that he’s able to set SOME boundaries – he also lacks the more immediate stress of palace goings on, much to his relief (only putting in appearances there so much is as absolutely necessary – he is reclusive, after all.) Nosey to a fault and with the trusted manpower (he has many close workers whom he trusts deeply and pays and treats well to ensure they remain so) and magical disposal at his hand, he is usually aware of what is going on, and likes to keep himself informed of the palace and it’s people. He is surprisingly astute and aware, although keeps most of his cards close to his chest (while surprisingly aware of Nadia’s coma, he did not make any motions during that time).

Not a magic user himself, he keeps several talented magicians in his employ to assist with the mobility aids he uses. His missing legs and severely damaged (although repaired with the best possible surgery at the time) jaw mean that he is unable to speak clearly or walk without aid. Spells can assist his speaking (more for 'fuck I have to deal with a bunch of other Vesuvian nobility and I need to make my points with verbal emphasis'), though he prefers to communicate mostly in writing and signs with his staff and close confidants. If someone new in his social sphere is learning to understand sign it will usually endear some good will from him. His spine and pelvic girdle are reasonably healthy, and he has tremendous upper body strength (mostly kept up by his favorite physical activity – swimming.)

As a rather elusive Vesuvian nobleman – Valerius only really knows him through a series of sexual encounters but when things begin to round the corner under Nadia he comes out of the woodwork to have a say in the resuscitation of Vesuvia. His main angle actually is, unsurprisingly, accessibility, given his own handicaps, and a vested interest in trade unions and workers rights. He found Lucio to be an obnoxious bore, and had little time for him.

In his spare time he is working on breeding increasingly weird colors of peacocks, mostly for his own entertainment (and he does love them) and also because they are perfect gifts for obnoxious relatives. “Can't turn down four of our cousins' peach peacocks even if they scream bloody murder at 4AM, because BOY will he be pissed off if any harm comes to them.” Everyone still wants to be in his good graces, and“well it IS a gift so maybe that means he's taken a shine to our little Eustace…” (It's not - he wants to annoy the shit out of you on a daily basis without having to be there.)

Injuries: His scarring comes from a sailing accident in his early twenties. He was on board one of his family’s trading frigates during a terrible storm, it was all hands on deck and despite his status he worked among the others to weather the storm (if the ship goes down, either way it is better to do what you could have done.) A line snapped, hit him in the face, and to say it shattered his jaw would be putting it mildly. There is the power of a gunshot in a broken line. He stumbled into a pile of line now loosed by that broken one, and it sheared off his legs before he could be loosened from the tangle. He is very lucky to be alive and owes his life to a steady handed and quick thinking ship’s doctor. He is a bilateral above-knee amputee, and despite a fair bit of reconstructive surgery has tremendous scarring around his mouth and neck, no tongue, most of his teeth are metal (gold composite) or ceramic, and he does not have full use of his jaw (he cannot open it much).

His legs were fairly cleanly severed by the rope, and most of the triage at the time was simply ensuring he wouldn’t bleed to death. He does have moderate phantom limb pain at times, but manages it fairly well with the acupuncturist he has on his staff and magical care. There are still, sometimes bad days. Permanent limb regeneration is hypothetically possible with magic, but would require a tremendous amount of skill and study, and even then there are likely risks of some fairly severe side effects. It is not a well understood form in Vesuvia, and not one Evander has chosen to pursue. Temporary limb regeneration is more well known (although still not without risk), but not something he finds desirable to use. Were he to be shape-shifted to other forms via magic his scarring would remain consistent.

His diet is somewhat limited but he can still chew some and swallow on his own. He does not have much of a sense of taste, and tends to like things that are EXTREMELY SPICY or very VERY strongly flavored (pleasantly fragrant is also good). He has a taste for things with what he thinks are good mouth-feel as well (things that are creamy, silky, bubbly/fizzy, are nice to bite into, have a good temperature, or are novel (crispy, caviar, candyfloss) are all things he likes). He eats very slowly if it’s something hard, crunchy, or chewy. He usually avoids eating much of anything at various functions, galas, and parties, if it can be avoided, especially as it means removing his mask. If he’s busy he has his cooks simply make him things he can swallow down quickly and be on with his day – eating something lavish is a production and a huge time sink for him. If he takes others out to dinner, he generally passes on it himself and will eat before or after (though he will usually order up a drink or two for himself – he doesn't mind letting the mask slip a little to enjoy something alcoholic.) He very much prefers to eat alone.

His daily life is a constant balance between maintaining and relinquishing bodily autonomy (given physical limitations), which informs a lot of his personality. While he is much more physically in control of his body now, it took years to recover from his injuries and grow to learn to live with them, which left major marks on his personality. The amount of time he spent utterly dependent on others left him eager to keep control of any part of his life he can. Lingering pain can also leave him in need of aid, and he is very specific with his staff as to how, when, and where to help him.

Mobility Aids: For flash and pomp Evander uses a crab-like walking machine (commissioned specially fromLua and finessed by Aleis). It can move relatively tightly, but is still rather flashy and does take up some space. For more day to day use he has a very sleek chair with something of a nautical theme. He can use prosthetic legs, and has some absolutely aesthetic ones from various masquerades, but he's not fond of magical augmentation (harder for him to control and to feel in control – something I've heard from some folks with newer electronic prostheses, though I know experiences are varied) and even manual ones take a lot out if him to use for prolonged periods. The crab chair is magical in functionality but is controlled manually (quite elegantly with rather subtle motion.)* Some of his legs are more aesthetic than practicality, but they do look quite something in use.

He prefers to wear a half-mask or veil at most appearances and generally these are not subtle prostheses. They feature elegant design, high quality materials, and often aquatic animal or mythological themes. He isn’t afraid or upset to show what’s underneath but he refuses to be a spectacle unless he’s deliberately making one. Some feel that he’s cultivating an air of mystery, which isn’t untrue, but he’s also enjoying control of how he is perceived, having some fun, and playing with his look.

Speaking through magic is interesting, it's not what his voice ever was, and it's not a direct thought to speech thing – the spell is still tied to internal physical articulation, so his throat is usually still moving (though his mouth isn't always, more like talking to yourself than out loud) Spells that turn thought to word are usually a garbled mess and only really used for interrogation or creative types hoping for a break (not impossible to use, but more complex to understand.) The spell itself he uses and it's workings are physically tied to a piece of jewelry – he can still articulate some sounds on his own but doesn't really have much of a functional tongue anymore, and his lower jaw only works so well (how does he FEEL about all this? Well... He finds it cute you think he'd care to go into that at depth… but when he’s cranky he says it makes him feel like his own ventriloquist dummy.) The item was composed and finessed to his liking by one or more of the magicians he has on staff.

He has tremendous upper body strength mostly kept up though both daily use of his chair and a truly profuse amount of swimming (there are several pools suitable for swimming on his grounds.) He does have a weight regimen as well. He can walk on his hands for a bit, but it’s exhausting. Unfortunately as his home is very old, it’s not entirely adapted to his use, although he has made almost all of it as accessible as possible by moving the in-home servant’s quarters upstairs and his own downstairs, as well as having other projects that increase his access to the grounds.

Smut: He is also into very kinky sex, is almost always a Dom (needs the sense of control – as he could otherwise be very vulnerable which he’s picky about), and enjoys doming through gentle but firm physical control and almost no verbal commands or fully per-agreed on situations (given that he can’t speak very clearly without aid – although he can use that aid, he prefers not to in intimacy). He’s a vers, and can either top or power bottom. He doesn't generally care to use his own bedroom for sex, and has others for the purpose, but in such rooms he has a lot of hand-holds so he can get good purchase from angles that would otherwise be difficult to impossible with his lack of legs. He is often masked or veiled – he doesn't begrudge his face but he doesn't like it to be distracting or a focus for his partner – he prefers a level of detachment or at least not letting anything be about THAT. He’s fond of wearing gloves, but that’s just aesthetic. He’s had many partners, does enjoy long-term flings when it’s clear that emotional intimacy isn’t generally on the table (he can still be fun, romantic, and playful, but he remains rather distant). He can be a tender or harsh dom depending on his partner (and is in for complex scenarios and/or more off-the-cuff play), and doesn't object to the occasional vanilla sex. Definitely appreciates decorative rope-work and has no trouble tying up partners. He is known to be very gentle with aftercare, though doesn't like much focused on himself (still though, nice words and gentle touches – apart from his face – are welcome).

Touching his face during intimacy (and overall) is a hard no, and he doesn't care to kiss (his jaw doesn't work well, and he doesn't like the attention around his mouth.) He has no tongue and isn’t able to get someone off with his mouth in any comfortable way, but will gladly use other body parts.

Some would describe him as eerily quiet, but he’s very good at not making noises (he can still make throaty noises, but is more inclined to restrain himself.)

While not quite a feeding kink – he does like to see others enjoy good food, and employs a very skilled kitchen staff. It’s more of a vicarious pleasure than a sex thing. Aftercare usually involves GREAT snacks.

*Lucio’s arm is nearly unique and represents tremendous amount of time, effort, and study of two incredibly powerful magicians. Evander has also not gone this route as despite it’s functionality – even magical it’s still metal and heavy, and nearly permanently attached, a liability for someone who lives to swim and is very particular about where they sacrifice their own control and bodily autonomy.

#Evander #The Arcana #The Arcana Game #OC #My Art #My Writing

[the-iron-orchid]

@arsenicxarcana​ You don’t know the evil you’re about to unleash

I’m putting the rest of this shit under a cut because it is so cursed that it needs a fucking Nazar to save us lmao

🧿

Rev 1:

@vesuvian-disaster​ roughs out the sculpt with a placeholder texture. In increasing frustration with his bizarre canon proportions, they lob him at me for refinement (not an uncommon workflow for us)

Me: “How in the fuck did you do this?”

Them: noncommittal grunt

Rev 2:

I cobble together a custom texture and start tweaking the sculpt. However, nothing I can do at the time seems to be able to preserve his look without also looking like a fucked-up maquette. (Also I have NO IDEA why the area around his mouth is so fucked up). Also also, that hair texture is godawful.

Declaring defeat, the operation is suspended indefinitely.

Pretty sure I can do better now, but my god man 😂

The REALLY hilarious part is that we made Valerius at the same time, and his sculpt has held up just fine... so the problem is clearly with the Goatman, he’s just Cursed™

#Count Crispies #ancient sins ancient sins #so enjoy our old shame from early 2021 ig

[retro-scorpio]

The Arcana Meets The Devildom (Part Six)

Lucio’s Relationship With The Other Obey Me Characters

Lucifer: Despite the similarity of their names, the two men are two entirely different people to the point where Lucifer really doesn’t want anything to do with Lucio (although Lucifer’s opinion of Lucio is nowhere near as bad as that of the Lucio Haters). At least with Mammon, Lucifer can trust his brother to not mess up the important things (like looking out for the other brothers when he’s not around). Lucio, meanwhile, finds Lucifer to be way too uptight for his tastes and feels like he has had a stick up his ass for far too long. Obviously, Lucio receives help from Lucifer to return home to Vesuvia, but it’s more through the relationship the Avatar of Pride has with Julian and less through Lucifer’s feelings about Lucio.

Mammon: When Lucio and Mammon are together, they are a worse duo than Asra and Solomon. At least Asra and Solomon look out for other people besides themselves from time to time (especially Luke). Lucio and Mammon, meanwhile, are a pure force of chaos who bring out the worse in each other. Never, under any circumstances, allow the Avatar of Greed and the Vesuvian count to enter a Devildom casino, for they will cause thousands of Grimm of physical and emotional damage (that Lucifer will have to pay for, much to his dismay). Mammon and Lucio are as thick as thieves, and they bond over how they’re often the scapegoat for everything that goes wrong, even if they aren’t the ones who started it or did anything wrong.

Levi: Lucio and Levi really don’t have anything to do with each other. When Lucio is over at the House, Levi is either in his room or at RAD (and based on the things Levi has heard about Lucio, the Avatar of Envy would like to keep it that way; there’s no way he can deal with two Mammons).

Satan: Satan is torn about how he feels about Lucio. On the one hand, Satan hates how Lucio leaves his room a worse mess (than it already is) every time he’s in there to attempt to help Julian and Asra with research, and Lucio is so boisterous that it’s much harder to get any reading, academic or otherwise, done. There’s also a part of Satan that, while he hates to admit it, takes Lucifer’s opinion of people very seriously, and he feels pressure to not be overly fond of Lucio as a result of Lucifer’s words about and actions towards the Vesuvian count. On the other hand, the Avatar of Wrath finds Lucio to be very fascinating. Lucio may tell tall tales about his life in Vesuvia, but tales are tales, and Satan finds them very entertaining. Plus, Satan can’t deny that Lucio has a certain charm about him that draws people to him (even if the attention isn’t always good). It’s not like Satan has a crush on Lucio, though. There’s no way a quiet man such as himself could develop feelings for someone loud and bent on destruction, right?

Asmo: Some would say that this is a perfect match, for Lucio are Asmo are both vain creatures that put themselves above all others. However, this similarity is the very thing that causes them to initially bump heads whenever they so much as meet each other’s glance. Their arguments can be boiled down to who is adored the most, and they constantly feel the need to show up one another. After a while, though, Asmo and Lucio slowly become more friendly towards each other when they realize that they are both very insecure about people’s perception of them, and they try to help each other to work through their insecurities. Eventually, they can occasionally be seen in Asmo’s room, exchanging beauty secrets.

Beel: Beel and Lucio don’t see each other a whole lot, and so they fade into each other’s background. As long as Lucio doesn’t eat any of his food, Beel’s just fine with Lucio’s presence at the House.

Belphie: Belphie’s greatly amused by Lucio’s antics, and the Avatar of Sloth may or may not instigate things with Lucio for his own amusement. It takes Lucio a while for him to realize this about the youngest demon brother, but when he does, he (oddly) begins to respect the power that Belphie has. They have been found napping together on numerous occasions, although neither one of them can remember how they ended up in the same room, much less practically on top of each other (which makes Satan blush if he is the one to find the duo napping).

Simeon: Like Satan, Simeon has a bit of a crush on Lucio. Unlike Satan, though, Simeon feels more comfortable with expressing his feelings towards the Vesuvian count. In the back of his mind, Simeon knows that Lucio isn’t the best type of partner for him to have, but there’s nothing wrong with fantasizing every now and again, right? Lucio is completely oblivious to Simeon’s feelings towards him, and Simeon’s perfectly content to keep Lucio in the dark (unlike Asmo when it came to Julian). Besides, it would seem as though Lucio has his eyes on someone else, and Simeon’s not about to get in the way of his friend and roommate’s fun.

Solomon: Out of all of the possible romantic relationships that blossom out of Julian, Asra, and Lucio’s arrival to the Devildom, no one, and I mean no one, expected Solomon and Lucio to be the first pairing to actually hook up with each other (away from the prying eyes of everyone else). It seems unlikely that Lucio would ever be attracted to someone who was as similar to Asra as Solomon is, and yet the bruises and light scratch marks all over Solomon’s neck, arm, and back tell a different story. Perhaps it’s Solomon’s brand of slyness that draws Lucio in. As for Solomon, he can’t deny that the Vesuvian count’s quite handsome, and he has left some marks of his own on Lucio’s body. Solomon knows how Simeon feels towards Lucio, and he has thought about adding the angel into the mix. However, he must be very careful not to let Asra know of any of this, for Asra would most certainly turn against him and probably curse him for hooking up with the man that took his parents away from him.

Luke: While there are no romantic feelings involved, Luke is in a similar predicament to Satan when it comes to deciding how to behave towards Lucio. Luke wants to be a good angel, and he believes that good angels don’t spend any time with the likes of Lucio unless it’s to help convert them and help them see the good of God. However, Lucio is just too entertaining for Luke to simply ignore. He does feel a bit more comfortable after he and Simeon have a talk, but there’s still a part of Luke that feels like he’s breaking the rules whenever he has (innocent) fun with Lucio. Meanwhile, Lucio treats Luke in a similar fashion to Little D.

#the arcana #the arcana lucio #count lucio #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #part six is finally out #thank you universe for allowing me to have a break from my chaotic life