#the arcana ficlets

[mermaidchan05]

Vesuvia Weekly: "How Did You Learn to Do That?"

“How did you learn to do that?”

“My master taught me.” 

Whenever the question was posed, that was Chimalus’ response.  It was almost instinctive at this point. Though Chimalus had graduated from “My master taught me” to “Asra taught me,” the meaning was still the same. 

After all, Asra had taught them everything.  He was the one responsible for bringing them back.  He was the one who taught them how to be a person again.  And after that, he hadn’t stopped.  He’d taught them how to read.  How to write.  He’d taught them nearly everything they knew about magic. 

So it was only natural that, when Nadia first led them to the palace stables and asked if they knew how to ride, their response was much the same. 

“Asra taught me how, once.” 

Nadia had smiled then, one of the first smiles that was meant just for Chimalus, a smile that made their heart skip a beat. 

“My, you are full of surprises, aren’t you?” she’d said. 

And in that moment, though they hadn’t fully understood why back then, Chimalus had wanted nothing more than to keep surprising her.  To see that smile more and more often. 

Which was exactly what they did, though it was hardly ever on purpose.  Since the fateful day that Nadia had come to her shop, searching for help, Chimalus and Nadia had experienced more than their fair share of surprises.  But they had gotten through everything the universe decided to throw at them.  And now, at last, things had started to calm down.  There was still much work to be done.  Still so many things that needed to be fixed.  But there was also enough time to steal away for an afternoon to have tea with friends. 

Which was exactly what they were doing when the subject of riding came up. 

“Did you ever ride, Asra?” Nadia asked.  “I seem to remember hearing something of the sort...” 

“No,” said Asra with his Magician smile.  “Well... not horses, at least.”  

Chimalus didn’t hear how Nadia replied, or if she even replied at all.  Their hand shook as they put their teacup down.  The realization crashed over them like a wave, leaving them stunned, breathless. 

Asra didn’t know how to ride.

There was no possible way he could have taught them. 

So how did they know?  How did they remember? 

In any other circumstance, they would chalk it up to simple muscle memory.  But that didn’t make sense in this case.  Not when their muscles carried so few memories in the first place.  

And if Asra hadn’t taught them to ride... who had?

Such questions were dangerous.  Chimalus and Nadia had been working towards unlocking the secrets of Chimalus’ past.  Of the life they had lost.  And while Asra had done his best to help, he admitted that there were some things that even he didn’t know.  Chimalus hadn’t shared every detail of their past with him.  There were some things, Asra explained, that had apparently been too painful or upsetting to share. 

Which meant those memories may have been lost forever.  Chimalus had, unwittingly, hidden their own history.  

How much else had they lost?  And if it was so painful, so heavy that it was a burden not even Asra could bear, did they even want to reclaim it? 

But the question pestered them.  Demanded answers.  And they had no answers to give. 

All they knew was that Nadia would remain by their side.  Whatever the past held, the two of them would face the future together.  And they had more than just Nadia.  There was Portia, of course, as stalwart a partner as anyone could ask for.  They had Asra, who had always supported them.  They had Julian, who had a knack for running into and out of trouble, which may have been exactly what they needed in this case.  They had friends.  They had family.  

Perhaps that was all they needed, whether or not they ever found the life they had left behind.  

#vesuvia weekly #where did you learn that #the arcana #the arcana game #ficlet #my stuff #my writing #apprentice chimalus #nadia satrinava #the arcana nadia #also spoilers for nadia's route and for the heart hunter stuff I guess? #tiny spoilers but hey #and welcome back to post-resurrection angst town lol

[theminecraftbee]

I’m really curious as to how Zedaph’s social link would work, so I’d love to hear your ideas!!

Zedaph is making a face and kicking rocks by the side of the lake when Impulse finds him. Impulse grimaces. Well, that's not a particularly good sign for how well his experiments had gone. Carefully, Impulse lets his eyes slide over to the trees, where a glowing blue door sits.

...he already has Kikuri-Hime. He's prepared to deal with this. If Zedaph once again asks him to do odd things with his persona, he can handle it.

"So, how did -"

"It doesn't make any sense!" Zedaph says, throwing up his hands. "I'm so close to understanding it, Impulse! I'm so close."

Ah. Today is a smile and nod sort of day. Impulse smiles and nods. "You're honestly even better at most of this Negative World stuff than any of us," he says.

"Yeah, I guess, but it isn't good enough," Zedaph says. He kicks another rock. It bounces off the edge of the lake into the water. "It's the most interesting thing to happen to me in... in years, Impulse. And I can't even understand it well enough to do anything interesting with it at all!"

They've had exactly this conversation... what rank are they on... six times, probably, in different flavors. He almost wants to say: every time we talk about how you've hit a wall in researching the Negative World, I come here, you get a new lead from me, and you stop being so upset about it. But that's just a bit mean, is the thing, and there's something different about this time.

"Have you considered you don't need to understand?" Impulse says instead.

"I do," Zedaph says.

"I don't know, man. I think there are more important things than 'how exactly the Negative World works'," Impulse tries. "I mean, it's important we understand like, how the sleeping sickness works, I guess, but -"

"I have access to a magical world and I can't even do anything weird with it," Zedaph says.

Impulse sits down by the lake. Zedaph sits down next to him.

"I mean, the thing you tried to do with fusion," Impulse starts.

"I still think you were lying about fusing personas, by the way," Zedaph says.

"I wasn't! Swear I wasn't!"

"And your magical blue train station," Zedaph continues.

"If I could show it to you I would!"

"If a weird blue man you made up with a long nose can do it, I absolutely should be able to do it as well," Zedaph concludes.

"I mean, we can try again, but last time I passed out for an hour and you made Skizz cry," Impulse says.

"I'll come up with a technique eventually. Then we can fuse our power together like Voltron."

"Oh yeah. Like Voltron," agrees Impulse.

They're both quiet for a bit.

"I hate that I don't know how it works," says Zedaph. "I should know by now. I've been trying for months. I know it's magic. I know it's supposed to just all be intuitive. And when it's intuitive, it's great. It's like... all the mysteries of the world are right there, and I never have to watch my best friend die again."

Oh.

Well. That... that would be what this is about, wouldn't it.

"You didn't have to," Impulse says slowly.

"Tango knows Recarm," Zedaph says, pulling his knees to his chest. It's sort of an agreement. It mostly isn't.

"I came here to help you with an experiment. It was our deal," Impulse says. "If you have any ideas -"

"No, it's fine," Zedaph says.

"Maybe instead of the fusion thing - even if you can't get extra personas like me, we still haven't tried out seeing what happens if you negotiate with shadows yourself. And hey, that's gotta go better than you poisoning us all by trying to make magic food."

"That wasn't a poisoning," Zedaph says, sniffing. "That was a clinical trial, and you know it."

"Sure," Impulse says. "Whatever you say, man." He stands up. "You wanna go to the hospital to try to talk to shadows, or..."

"No, I think for now I'll stay here," Zedaph says. "Besides, I also wanted to test - could we use the twisted shadows to store items we can't carry in our bags? That could be very useful."

Impulse opens his mouth. He wants to say: you know you don't have to be useful, right? You know we're scared too, right? I always have a persona on me with Recarm too, you know? It's okay if this is less for science and more for other reasons.

Then Impulse thinks about the fact he made sure to bring Kikuri-Hime along to talk with his friend, and decides that perhaps he can't talk.

"Alright, man. Well, you know how our deal works. Anytime you need me to test something out..."

"Yeah. Catch you later, Impulse."

"...you too, Zedaph."

[Rank up! The Priestess, Level 7]

#answered #prompt ficlets #theoretical persona au #for those who don't know well enough: i looked up what a priestess persona was that impulse could be using for this #you do better at social links if you have a correct arcana persona after all

[ikkaku-of-heart]

Hawkins Sex and Sexuality Headcanon(s)

Before Hawkins decided to attempt to seduce and manipulate Ikkaku, he never had much interest in sex. He’d had it a few times, mostly out of curiosity, but it hadn’t been something he’d really been invested in. He’d seen men be reduced to panting, mindless dogs over just a glimpse of tits and ass and refused to debase himself so. He is a man of control. Part of the reason he relies on his tarot cards so is because knowing the future puts him in control. But when he began planning to draw Ikkaku to his side, he realized sex would absolutely be a necessity for the plan.

However, sex became far more pleasurable for him once he started sleeping with Ikkaku because he realized sex = power and control. In his mind, Ikkaku is something akin to a goddess that he intends to steal divinity from, and yet she lays beneath him in bed. He enjoys how his touch can leave her moaning and writing beneath him. He relishes being able to bring Ikkaku to orgasm or deny it. The understanding he’s gained of her kinks and body and desires gives him a sense of power over her he hadn’t anticipated. He can dominate and cause her extreme pleasure in so many ways, or he can have his submissive lover down on her knees to pleasure him. When she’s being a feisty brat in the bedroom, he loves putting her in her place – it actually turns him on more than Ikkaku being totally submissive, because it’s a reminder of how he can overpower her at any time. Even when they have sex in the bath, where he is basically powerless and Ikkaku tops, he is able to justify it in his mind because he gave her that control, and it was all for the sake of gaining her trust. To manipulate her further so he will have more power overall.

The size difference between him and Ikkaku also helps. He enjoys how much taller and bigger he is. How he can cage her in against a wall and loom over her, how he can so easily pull her into his lap and keep her there even if she squirms, how his hands are large enough to wrap around her waist or throat or cover her tattoo with his palm. He especially likes the feeling of her cunt, lips, and throat stretched around his large cock, considering how it’s a good 8in long and decently girthy.

Basically, when it comes to sex, Hawkins gets off on the power and control as much as the physical pleasure itself. The fact that Ikkaku also enjoys being overwhelmed and used in bed furthers this and makes him think that she’s more under his thumb than she really is.

Hawkins is also a closeted bisexual. His misogyny and wanting to be in control are the biggest reasons he refuses to acknowledge that side of his sexuality. Women he feels can generally overpower and control, but men he doesn’t have that advantage. Especially muscular, dangerous men like Killer, who he finds himself staring at despite his animosity. He is also aware of the fact that his looks would make many outsiders see him as the “woman” in the relationship which infuriates him. With Ikkaku, it was clear to everyone, at least in his mind, that even with his long hair and frilly shirts he was the “man.” If he pursued someone like Killer, he would not be so obviously the “masculine” one. So, his attraction to men (Killer) is repressed and shifts into anger.

#Major Arcana (Hawkins) #Working of the Mind (headcanons) #Not Safe for Working (smut) #High Priestess and Magician - Hawkins x Ikkaku #(I justify my writing Hawkins headcanons on the fact that so much of it has to do with Ikkaku) #(but at the same time this bastard has been fascinating me so I guess him getting his own headcanons is inevitable) #(this man really is so fucked up. or at least my version is) #(sometimes I wonder about making him a guest muse but he only wants to interact with Ikkaku and Killer) #(maybe Law and Drake too) #(so instead he gets overly-detailed headcanons and the occasional ficlet plus sometimes involved in verses)

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

I know I have written about this before but I'm curious about how you think the M6 would react to getting little love notes from the MC/Apprentice, like one left on a desk or left in lunch box. I think it's always so sweet to leave little messages to remind a person of how you love them. It could be platonic or romantic of course.

The Arcana Mini-HCs: When MC leaves M6 little love notes

~ @sweetestlittledarling your ficlet was so cute, I loved it!! ~

Julian: spends the next three hours trying to write you the perfect response, shows up with an apology bouquet because he couldn't

Asra: blushes, smiles, plans to write one in return but it slips their mind until they see you again. comes up with something on the fly

Nadia: keeps getting distracted thinking about it for the rest of the day. heaps it back on you a hundred times over in loving revenge

Muriel: carefully folds it up and stores it with his secret collection of things you've given him. goes out of his way to be extra affectionate

Portia: has a full schoolgirl reaction (giggling, bouncing, butterflies, happy dancing) in the middle of the town square. tackles you later

Lucio: almost misses it in his haste to eat his lunch. scribbles one in return for you right away and abandons work to bring it to you

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

This blog is STRICTLY adults only. Do not interact with my posts if you are a minor/below 18 years of age.

If I don't see an age on your blog or some kind of indicator that you are of age, you will be blocked immediately.

This blog is LGBTQ+ friendly. TERFS can rot in hell.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

•.¸♡ 𝐉𝐉𝐊 ♡¸.•

Longfic:

Little Corner of the World That We Call Home (Nanami x reader) (fluff and smut)

Debaucherie (Sub!Nanami x Domme!Reader)

Katana and Kanzashi (Yakuza!NanamiKento x Geisha! Reader):

Rabbits and White Camellia

Blurbs:

Nanami: one, two, Jujutsu Packers and Movers

Toji: one

Sukuna: one, two (heian era)

Yuuji (aged up): one (sfw)

Geto: one

Ficlets:

Clumsy Office Intern The Senpais (Nanami, Shoko, Geto, Gojo)

Clumsy Office Intern The Boss (Sukuna) DUBCON WARNING

Cursed!Toji Fushiguro x Curse User!Reader

JJK men when their SO has a nightmare (Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Sukuna, Toji

Under the City Lights in the Shade of Your Kiss Nanami Kento x Tall!Reader

JJK men jealous of your plushie

•.¸♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮!! ♡¸.•

Blurbs:

Best-friend Bokuto (fluff): one, two

•.¸♡ 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐣𝐢 (𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐫) ♡¸.•

Longfic: Longing (Sebastian Michaelis x Ciel's cousin!reader)

MASTERLIST | Good morning my lady (Sebastian Michaelis x Ciel's cousin!reader)

•.¸♡ 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞! ♡¸.•

How it looks: Rin Matsuoka, Rei Ryūgazaki, Nagisa Hazuki, Sousuke Yamazaki, Haruka Nanase, Tachibana Makoto

•.¸♡ 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 ♡¸.•

Rainy Day (Asra from Arcana -Game)

Obey (Dean x Cas x Reader)

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 link♥

#anonimusunnoan #anonimuswritings #fanfiction #kuroshitsuji #jjk #smut #nanami kento #sebastianmichaelis #masterlist #anonimusunnoan masterlist #MINORS DO NOT INTERACT #not safe for minors

[kydrogendragon]

Happy birthday!

I love Lucienne and Gault being sweet to each other, Gault and Jed having adventures together in the Dreaming, and Rose and Barbie if you want (I set them up as a pair in my fic, Life is But a Dream, but then didn’t go any farther with them).

Happy writing!

Sixth prompt of the day!

I initially tried to write a ficlet with all of the above, but couldn't figure out what I wanted to go with it. If you're curious, the general premise I had was Rose teasing Lucienne about when she planned to propose to Gault while they were all in the Dreaming. Gault was off flying around Fiddler's Green with Jed while Lucienne, Rose, and Barbie lounged on a picnic blanket on a hill.

But! Instead, I wrote a thing focusing on Gault and Lucienne since the words for that flowed more. I'd like to finish the other idea I had eventually since I do think it'd be cute, but hopefully this also works!

Thanks a ton for the prompt!!! This was a lot of fun to write. It's vaguely in the same universe as A Waking Nightmare, but just in the sense of "this is how these two got together".

Relationship: Gault/Lucienne Words: 1587 Warnings: None Ao3 Link

“When was the last time you left this place?” Gault asks, trailing behind Lucienne while the former raven snags the misplaced books from shelves and tables. The library of the Dreaming was expansive and ever shifting, though Lucienne never seemed to have issue navigating it. Even Gault, as a Major Arcana, a spot that put her as close to their Lord as a Dream or Nightmare could be, struggled with finding exactly what she wanted in this place.

Lucienne had explained it to her once. She claimed that her role as the Librarian of the Dreaming allowed her control over it to some degree. As Dream was the Dreaming, Lucienne was, partially, the Library as well. When she retired from her position as a Raven and took up the new role as Librarian, their Lord had bestowed upon her a small fraction of his powers so that she could wield this space to it’s fullest potential. And wield it, she did.

“Frequently,” Lucienne replies, pulling one of the misplaced books from her cart and slotting it between it’s brothers on the shelf in front of her. “I do often bring reports to Lord Morpheus, after all. I am not confined to this space, you know.” She hears Gault’s sigh behind her before she sees the flash of color to her side. Gault follows her, walking backwards beside the cart. Lucienne shoots her a look, raised brow and all, wile she continues her duties.

“You know,” Gault says, picking up one of the abandoned books and turning it in her hands. “Doing tasks for our Lord wasn’t what I meant. When what the last time you left this place on your own accord?”

The answer, Lucienne knows, is a very long time. So long, in fact, she’s unsure when exactly that was. Not nearly as far back as her position as raven, but not much sooner than it, either, she suspects. She blinks, refusing to look upon Gault’s knowing expression, and instead focuses on her work. She slots a book into position, her finger trailing along the spine as she pushes the hardback into place.

She just catches the roll of Gault’s eyes as she wheels the cart forward. They descend, expectedly for Lucienne, unexpectedly for Gault, who stumbles over her feet at the sudden shift in elevation. She falls over, her back colliding with the now stable flooring of the Library. Lucienne smirks as she wheels past the prone Nightmare.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Gault called from her spot on the floor. Lucienne looks over her shoulder, a face of perfect innocence.

“Me? Never. The floor was always that way.” She turns back as Gault huffs and pushes herself up off the hardwood floors. They’ve made their way into one of the offshoots of the main library. Here, the hallway is narrower and the ceiling reaches just a head taller than their Lord’s usual form size. Torches line the walls, illuminating the corridor in golden, flickering light. If Lucienne was being truthful, it was these smaller sectors of the Library that she enjoyed the most. They were rarely visited by anyone, dream and nightmares or dreamers alike. This particular hallway was devoted to the finished collections of Swedish Shower Thoughts circa 1940 to 2040.

“If I asked you to join me for a scroll through the gardens, would you say yes?” Gault’s voice echoed against the stone ceilings. The grip on the book in Lucienne’s hand tightened. She looks down, eyes trailing over the leather bound edges. A stroll through the garden, inherently, wasn’t a bad idea. The weather was fair as their Lord was in a decent mood as of late and she knew that Mervyn had recently completed the renovations to the pergola beside the pond which would make for a most excellent sitting spot. No, the garden wasn’t the thing that made Lucienne pause.

Gault was. Or rather, what Gault wanted was the cause for her hesitation. It was clear, after the numerous visits she had made to the Library in recent months, that there was something more than simple friendship under the surface. Lucienne wasn’t blind to the clear flirting or prolonged looks. And she would be lying if she said there weren’t times her own eyes lingered a touch too long. Mutual attraction wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it existed in the first place.

Lucienne was the Librarian of the Dreaming. She was a former raven to Dream of the Endless and, most critically, was kept nearly as busy as her lordship was. And Gault… Gault was a jovial spirit who completed her work with artistry and efficiency. She helped care and raise the young dreams and nightmares and saw such beauty and potential in both this realm and the Waking. Gault was worthy of her title as Major Arcana. She was the best of them. And what Gault needed was not someone who has been compared to Lord Morpheus in more ways than one.

No, she should deny her request for the stoll in the garden. She should deny any such requests in the future until Gault takes the hint and finds someone more compatible, more deserving of her. She sighs, slotting the book in place, before turning to meet Gault’s gaze.

“Okay.”

The gardens, as expected, were wonderful out. The flowers were just starting to bloom and the air was clean and crisp. Lucienne couldn’t help but notice the tension in her shoulders began to dissipate as they walked through the rows of flowering hedges.

They chatted while they walked, mostly of work, though Gault did tell stories of the most recent nightmares she’d partaken in. Apparently, there had been some debate on who was responsible for a string of serial nightmares: herself or the Corinthian. Lucienne did not envy Gault for having to deal with that mess. The Corinthian, while an effective Nightmare and particularly favored by their Lord (though Lucienne knows well he would deny such claims), was not fun to work with on a professional level.

Gault stopped just beside a section of flower, a variety of Daisy that exists solely in the Dreaming, and plucks one from it’s stem. Lucienne watches as she raises the golden flower to her nose and sniffs. She hums, clearly pleased by the scent, before turning to face Lucienne. She stares for a moment, her eyes flicking between the side of her head and back to her gaze.

Then, it clicks, when Gault leans forward and slots the flower between her ear. Lucienne can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine as Gault’s touch. She is warm. Her fingers are warm as they caress the side of her face once the flower is secured.

“There,” she says, letting her arm fall back to her side. “Something pretty for someone pretty.” Lucienne smiles, shaking her head as he looks away. She can feel heat in her cheeks.

“Is that the best line you have? You are trying to woo a librarian, after all.” She replies, gazing down at the junction of stone and grass beside their feet.

“Guess I’ll just have to study some more. Is there a book on good pick-up lines somewhere in that expansive library of yours?”

Lucienne looks up, her eyes meeting the soft gaze on Gault’s face. She feels her heart skip in her chest followed immediately by a heaviness, a lead weight of guilt inside her. She doesn’t realize she’s speaking until it’s too late.

“You should not want me,” she nearly yells. “I will not have the time to devote to you as I would like. As you would deserve. I will put our Lord and the Dreaming above us, above you and above me. I cannot be the spontaneous partner or even, truly, a most affectionate one. I have only know my work, my books, and my Lord for so many centuries that I do not know how to know another. You deserve more than me, Gault.”

She is silent, staring down at Lucienne with such sadness in her eyes that she is certain she has some to the same conclusion as herself. That a relationship between them would be pointless. Instead, she slowly raises her hands and cups Lucienne’s cheeks.

“Good think I’m more than fine with just following you around while you work,” Gault says, leaning forward to press a feather light kiss to Lucienne’s forehead. It is the most touch she has experienced in so long. She only realizes she has whimpered when Gault chuckles against her skin. “We have all the time in the world. I can learn to wait while you figure it all out. As a friend or as more. I just want you, Lucienne.”

She lets out a shuddering breath which quickly turns into a shaky, teary laugh. Gault wraps her arms around her form and pulls her close to her iridescent chest. They are a perfect height, Lucienne thinks, as she feels Gault’s chin rest on the top of her head. She winds her own arms around Gault’s waist, letting herself enjoy the moment. There’s a steady thrum from under her skin. Not a heart, not truly, for most of the dreamthings here do not have hearts, but rather the core of them. It pulses with power, hers even stronger than most for her status as an Arcana.

“Okay,” she finally says, her voice muffled against Gault’s body. “Just… be patient with me?”

“For you, my dear librarian? Of course.”

#gaultienne #gault the sandman #gault x lucienne #lucienne the librarian #the sandman #ky writes #Kydrogen's Birthday Prompts

[leighsartworks216]

20 Questions for Fic Writers Game

Tagged by @shenanigans-and-imagines! I don't usually do these, but hell why not

1 - How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 56 individual "works", but that doesn't count how many chapters/actual fics I have posted there

-

2 - What's your total AO3 word count?

373,417

-

3 - What fandoms do you write for?

So many, oh god. Markiplier Egos, Marvel, The Witcher, Star Wars, Jurassic Park, NCIS, Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit, The Arcana, For The Love Of The Gods, Ace Attorney, Indiana Jones, Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom, Howl's Moving Castle, Enola Holmes, Doctor Who, Star Trek, Baldur's Gate 3. These are just all the fandoms I have characters I will write for in, so even though I don't have fics for all these fandoms, I will write for them

-

4 - What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

You Have A Type, Don't You? - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I Come With Knives (series) - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Designated Lockpicker - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Astarion Drabbles - Astarion x Tav/Reader ficlets

You Hate Me - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

-

5 - Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

It depends on the comment, but I don't respond all the time. If someone has a question, or I feel I need to correct them/steer them in the right direction, I'll answer, but I don't respond to most of the ones gushing/aweing over the fic, not to say I don't still appreciate them all immensely.

-

6 - What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Rom, My Beloved is my saddest/angstiest from my individual works, but there are some really angsty fics in my Loki and Markiplier Ego compiled works. I wrote it because Rom is my favorite Bloodborne boss and I just loved her lore, but tragedy abounds when you talk about a Soulsborne game

-

7 -What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

A lot of my fics nowadays have happy endings, but my favorite of my completed individual works is probably The Rescue of Magistrate Ancunin, because it's open-ended as to what could happen next but it takes a devastating moment from Astarion's life and makes it nice and a little silly

-

8 - Do you get hate on fics?

In recent memory, no, but I'm sure I have at some point. I usually delete it and move on

-

9 - Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Very vanilla but very emotionally-charged. I have a tendency to focus more on the emotions of those involved and how they feel about their partner over how the sex feels

-

10 - Do you write crossovers?

No, but I have thought about doing a Witcher and Bloodborne crossover, because I think it would be very interesting

-

11 - Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. I did check through the major sites when AI bots started scraping fics off AO3, but I didn't see anything then. If anything does come up though, absolutely let me know

-

12 - Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but! Back when I wrote on Wattpad, I had some very lovely person ask to read my fic on Youtube. I agreed and I wish I could find it, because I just remember being so elated by it

-

13 - Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope. I don't really know how to approach co-writing, and it's just not something I'm too interested in rn

-

14 - What's your all time favorite ship?

Uh uhm pass (I can't think of any 💀)

-

15 - What's a WIP that you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a Breath of the Wild fic planned out, with notes and even a first chapter written out and future ones with little bits drabbled out, but when I tried revisiting it again, I was just so lost in what I had planned. I hope one day I can finish it, but it's not gonna be soon

-

16 - What are your writing strengths?

I've been told that it's the little details I add that ground it more into reality, ie hair getting caught on earrings or a voice cracking while trying to sing

-

17 - What are your writing weaknesses?

I feel like I don't describe things complex enough. I can describe emotions or scenery and dip in a little bit, but I can never get it deep *enough*, but I know that comes mostly with neurodivergences and comparing myself to others

-

18 - Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I hate when writers have foreign words/phrases in the middle of a fic and don't translate them until the very very end. That means I have so pick up the context clues around it, translate it myself, or risk getting spoiled trying to find the translation

Also, if your character uses sign language, don't put it in italics or ' ', just write it out like if it was verbal dialogue. "They signed, '[fill in the blank]'" Describe the way the gestures are formed (sloppy, sharp, indecipherable, fast) to get across emotion, and also the expressions on their face, since sign languages are very heavily reliant on facial emotions to ass meaning to the signs themselves

-

19 - First fandom you wrote for?

Hard to say. I first started my writing on Wattpad, and have since been locked out of that account, but it was probably Doctor Who, knowing me

-

20 - Favorite fic you've written?

I have a hard time picking favorites! And I like a bunch of them for a variety of different reasons, and always have things to nitpick about them

I will say I am really really enjoying my work on I Come With Knives so far. It's a passion project and I have some very big, angsty things planned for the future that I can't wait to get to >:3

-

I don't really know who to tag for these things ever, so if you want to do it, go for it :)

#fanfic #fanfiction #20 questions

[girlwithakiwi]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by @elder-flower

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

32 (20 are user-locked)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,238,164

3. What fandoms do you write for?

For the past five years, it has been iterations of A Song of Ice and Fire (the book canon, Game of Thrones, and House of the Dragon). Prior to that, I've written fics for Sailor Moon, Gundam Wing, Kingdom Hearts, Fushigi Yuugi, High School Musical, RENT, The Dresden Files, Harry Potter, Glee, and BBC Sherlock.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

the gather, the bend, the bringing forth (Game of Thrones S8 canon divergence)

some nights the lighthouse, some nights the sea (transatlanticism) (Game of Thrones S7 canon divergence)

the silhouette of a single memory (Game of Thrones reincarnation AU)

all the ground beneath with tears and blood (Game of Thrones/The Vampires Diaries fusion)

where ruin also exists (A Song of Ice and Fire, post-ADWD)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Even before I started writing in the ASOIAF fandom, I did tend to write bittersweet endings. Loss and grief is a fascinating frame of reference for an otherwise happy ending and I've always liked being able to write about those conflicting emotions. That said, it was probably never let me go.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Haha, lmao—this is definitely the silhouette of a single memory and its adjoining prompt ficlets.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

My canon divergent fics for Game of Thrones sometimes get the rare grumpy butt but honestly, I pay too much in taxes to be bothered by someone trying to be snide behind the anonymity of a computer screen.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Sure? I think my smut is pretty tame compared to a lot of stuff I read but I do write it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Yes, I've written plenty. Sailor Moon/Gundam Wing and Game of Thrones/The Vampire Diaries might be the craziest though, considering how ridiculously dissimilar the two canon sources are.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

the gather, the bend, the bringing forth has its beginning chapters translated into Russian here

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes and no. My old RP partner @lyrangalia and I used to email RP during slow days at work and through that was born the AMD and Silvered Lightning universes. But since these technically never started as fic, then it's kind of in that weird uncategorized space.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

All time? I'm not sure if I have a single one that takes the top spot. I've liked Tomberly (MMPR), Willabeth (POTC), Neal/Sara (White Collar), Parker/Eliot/Hardison (Leverage), and Jonerys (ASOIAF) but I love them all equally.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Hands down, Arcana. The reason I won't finish it is because I fell out of love with the source material (it didn't age well) and the author of said source material (he's kind of an asshole!). I do still love the character that this fic revolves around and it's removed enough from the source material that I could finish it but...

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization and dialogue, probably? Who knows.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Characterization and dialogue, lmao.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Eh. It can be done and I've done it a few times honestly. I don't make a habit of it because it's just a bit of a headache to translate.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Sailor Moon.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Based on re-readability? a silhouette of a single memory and where ruin also exists

No pressure tags: @jellybeanficwriter @moondancer71 @zavocado @kiaxet @luthien-under-bough @calenlily

#fic writing meme #fic asks meme

[sketchyfletch]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @feralkwe (thank you!)

How many works do you have on AO3?

11. I also have various ones scattered on ff.net, as well as lost to time on livejournal and a graveyard on my googledrive. 

What’s your total AO3 word count?

77246. In terms of fic writing output, I’m one of those little pilot fish that hangs around friendly sharks. 

What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Dragon Age and the Arcana mobile game. I want to write more Mass Effect and I’ve done a Yasmin/Thirteen Dr Who ficlet. I used to write a lot of stuff for Naruto in my teens. 

What are your top five fics by kudos?

A Little Tender Loving Care - Arcana. Smut. Giving Nadia a massage. 

A Little Stronger You Thought - Arcana. A sparring practice with Nadia gets a bit hot and sweaty. Not actually smut this time. 

Won’t You Cleanse My Soul - Arcana. And we’re back to Smut. The bathroom scene taken to a conclusion not in the game. 

Not So Clean - Mass Effect. Smut again! Shepard and Traynor share a shower. 

Alone At Last - Dr Who. After Ryan and Graham leave the TARDIS, Yasmin and Thirteen finally push past a barrier in their friendship. 

Do you respond to comments?

Yes. I didn’t used to, but I love giving energy back to the people who took the time to write. 

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Back in my ff.net days, Leliana grieving after losing the Warden to the Ultimate Sacrifice. It implies Leliana dying as well. The angiest one on AO3 is Let it All Out, with Hawke spilling her guts to Leliana over everything that’s happened since they last saw each other in Lothering.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Alone At Last. Most of my one shots have a happy ending but this in particular. 

Do you get hate on fics? 

I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid it, although I have had a couple of ‘helpful’ comments telling me what I should do with the characters next (which is a guaranteed way to make me go in the opposite direction, not least so the commenter can’t claim credit for the idea). 

Do you write smut?

Cough. See above. 

Do you write crossovers?

I sort of am between Dragon Age games as I like bringing characters from one game and putting them in the setting of another. I’ve also been picking at a ‘Shepard crash lands on the Wounded Coast’ fic which I’m not sure will ever see the light of day. 

Have you had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know. 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. 

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I’ve co-written a lot of storylines on forums, some of which have sprung out into me working on fics separately, but not collaborated on a fanfic before. 

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

That’s a tough one. I adore Isabela/F Hawke, and ship Leliana very specifically with my jabby Siali Tabris, but if I was to pick one it would be Korra/Asami. When the first season of Korra came out I made a post on tumblr commenting on the chemistry between the two and really liking the idea of them together, but stating that the network would never, ever let it happen. (Child of the mid-2000’s ‘bury your gays’ wars here.) Having it come true was huge from a cultural standpoint, and I remember sitting at the computer sobbing my eyes out at the finale. It was so important to me so for that reason, I think they’ll always been my OTP even if I never write a fic for them. 

Which now I want to. Dammit. 

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I really, really want to write more of Aliyah Hawke’s story. I love DA2 but Hawke as a protagonist never grabbed me by the brainstem in the way my Warden and Inquisitor did. I want to build her up some more. She has five chapters up on AO3 and I want to save her from the ashes. 

What are your writing strengths?

I’m told I’m good at distinctive character voices. I like to switch around POVs a lot during fics to give different perspectives on familiar scenes, and the way I write inner monologues is very specific to the character who is the focal point at that time. 

What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m not an especially funny writer. Some people have a real knack for turns of phrase that leave you rolling on the floor, and sadly I am not one of those people. 

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have done this a lot as Nicolette is either Orlesian or French depending on what world she’s inhabiting at the point I’m writing her, and in reference to her faceclaim also has Indian/Rivaini ancestry, so I’d sprinkle her speech with bits of whatever her mother tongue is. I’ve learned to be increasingly careful about this because a) a lot of free translation tools are absolute arse and b) context is very important. 

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I’m actually currently writing it. ‘I Cannot Fly, So Let Me Sing’ started as a joke of me taking my very pacifist wandering minstrel character who I have been playing for years and playing with the canon like a ball of yarn until I could justify making her Inquisitor. It has been great working her into the story and also trying to weave in other character POVs, but I am currently taking a bit of a break as I have two bridging/important infodump chapters to write before I can move onto the next bit and I am STUCK. 

Tagging @shenaniginstigations, @aithne and @zombolouge

#writing #fics

[bloomspellwritings]

[Case Study of Vanitas] suit of swords

A sword is still in her hand, and a bitter call in her heart. For a moment, a blink of an eye, Dominique questions. Misha said everyone against them must be fought. She has to do it, or she'd be betraying yet another's expectations of her.

Who is the enemy?

What does she want to do?

For anyone coming to the manga later, chapter 54 originally published just the first fifteen pages or so, then there was about two months where no update came. This ficlet started within that space mostly as an excuse to get back into basic writing after years of blocks, but was also me really wanting Domi to finally fight with a sword. When the manga continued I simply let the project drop and forgot about it. But I've dusted off the draft in hopes of getting constructive criticism to my action scenes, and to also possibly end my own hiatus of sorts. The title comes from a minor arcana within tarot reading. I thought the associations with it fit Domi's character, so it gets the honour of helping me not have to think of a title of my own.

-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

They are surrounded, above and below. Mikhail's crowd of afflicted vampires normally would not be enough to stop a royal guard and the Hellfire Witch, but Dominique still wavers where she stands, and Jeanne's gauntlet hangs dead upon her arm.

The clinking of chains rings through the air. Dominique's eyes shift to Mikhail, clutching his wrist as his automaton tugs at the hem of his clothes. She wonders briefly if he'd dropped his grimoire or if a metallic tail had struck it from him. Though the answer doesn't matter, as he lets the mechanical dog whisk him away, face twisted in pain.

Despite everything, at the sight of the boy's tears, she wants to reach for him, to tell him she understands – she's lonely, too.

Her eyes move to Noé, injured arm useless as the other holds Vanitas close, his legs trying to shift them away from circling attackers.

A sword is still in her hand, and a bitter call in her heart. In front of her, Jeanne swings the gauntlet with all her strength to disperse the crowd, even as the vampires lunge at her over and over.

For a moment, a blink of an eye, Dominique questions. Misha said everyone against them must be fought. She has to do it, or she'd be betraying yet another's expectations of her. The echoes of her family belittling her, of how she'd hurt Louis, never leave her. But now, like a struck match flaring, she remembers wanting to save Jeanne even in the face of Veronica's anger, she remembers how Noé wanted her to be more like herself as she'd grasped at her cut hair.

She looks at Jeanne, unbuckling straps as crimson eyes glance from Dominique to the crowd.

Who is the enemy?

What does she want to do?

She charges forward, Jeanne only has time to brace her feet and gasp as Dominique passes her. A sweep of the sword is enough to make the few vampires on the tracks flinch away. Quickly, she uses the edge of the blade and her arm as a shield, but it's not enough. A man bites her forearm, fangs piercing through cloth down to skin. A woman tries to push past her, clawed hands catching at her loose hair and epaulets. Dominique's arm trembles as she tries to hold steady. These are innocent people, she doesn't want the sword to cut through them.

Clattering and a shudder through the coaster's structure is the only warning she has of the gauntlet being off before Jeanne calls, “Get back!”

She overestimates her step and her heel slips between wooden slats. Reflexively her hand grabs the guard rail as she falls. The floodlights glint off a rapier thrust in the space between the attackers' heads.

It must have come from that giant pack she carries, Dominique thinks as she untangles her legs and pulls herself up.

Jeanne doesn't look back as she kicks a man away and says, “I can fight on my own! Go!”

Dominique wants to say something more, anything better than the hatred she'd spat earlier, but knows she doesn't have time. Thank you is lost to the noise. She runs further along the incline and grasps the rail with both hands. A chill runs through her arms to her clenched fingers.

She needs to jump.

Her breath quickens as she pleads with herself that this time is different. She can see Noé far on the ground, up and fighting off the mob surrounding him, but he doesn't stray far from Vanitas's body. He's in danger of being overwhelmed if someone doesn't help him.

Dominique grits her teeth, tenses her legs, and swings out over the rail. Rain stings her face – had that happened last time? She can't remember – before her heels crack into the ground from an impact that would have broken a human's ankles. She springs up and runs to the swarm in front of her, as the Book's page flutter audibly in a nonexistent wind.

Noé backs away from the crowd, his legs tremble and he crouches over Vanitas, cornered like an animal. Dominique can see his chest move like a bellows before she screams his name, a glimpse of white and crimson looks back at her before he ducks. She arcs her sword over him and his charge, spins on her feet to make the other vampires cower away again.

She fumbles on her heels and barely thinking kicks off her shoes. Rainwater chills her stockings but she can't risk any instability. Noé shouts her name, but she doesn't look back. The people pulled into this conflict don't know how to fight, but they are pulled by a child's strings to do so. She only has to keep them away from her.

She dances around the mass aggression as best she can. Her heart pounds at her throat and breath grows sharp, her gaze flicks between the crowd and Noé at the edge of her vision; he's up again, Vanitas held close in a crude sling of his arms. She aims at legs and spaces between torsos, anywhere that could sting but heal. Once she may have even struck someone in the head with the pommel of her sword, but she can't be sure.

An escalating whine like electricity building within machinery rises from the Book, still fluttering wildly. Suddenly, it sounds like the world itself shatters and the crowd collapses. Dominique freezes mid-parry, panting in the silence. She looks over the people, murmuring as if they're merely asleep now, and sees starlight glimmer on the ground. The bulbs of the park's streetlights had broken in that final snap of energy, she realizes, and glances back where Mikhail's book fell. The grimoire sits on the dirtied walkway like a lost brochure, still as raindrops blot its blank pages. It is silent and painfully normal.

A thud makes Dominique look back to see Noé half-collapsed on the ground, Vanitas held haphazardly in his lap. She scans briefly around the quiet of the park, then walks to him, falls to her knees and leans her side against his back. She should probably care about the mud seeping through her stockings, but it doesn't seem to matter now.

“Domi... Thank you,” Noé can barely speak through his own exhaustion, words come beneath exhalations. “Thank you, for being here, for saving me.”

Is that what she'd done? Now that the fight is over, it feels like she'd never known what to do, only stumbling from moment to moment on split-second whims. She closes her eyes and tries to catch her breath, cheek pressed between Noé's shoulder blades.

Dominique hears footsteps approaching, but stays resting where she is. It's only Jeanne, also tired but steadier than the rest of them.

Jeanne takes a deep breath. “Now then,” she sighs, “what happened here?”

Noé is quiet a moment, inhales sharply before he speaks. “That boy was Mikhail, he's also kin of the Blue Moon. He took Domi hostage to lure us both out here, and get me to drink Vanitas's blood. He wanted to take Vanitas away with him.” His voice stutters, grows faster. “I tried to, I almost did because Domi would have – I didn't know what to do! I lost control, I attacked first and Vanitas fought back! It's no one's fault!”

Jeanne waits, Dominique can see her expression above them, patiently neutral. When Noé says nothing more, she mutters to herself how that raised more questions than it answered. She drops to one knee and holds out her hands. “I can take him now.”

Dominique can feel the way Noé freezes. “Huh?” leaves his mouth so quietly she barely hears it, almost as if it were squeezed from his chest.

“I'll go to Count Orlock's and ask for directions to the nearest hospital that hopefully won't ask too many questions. I can travel faster than you or Lady Dominique right now. Vanitas needs better help than any of us can give.”

And beyond Noé's adrenaline-beating pulse, Dominique can hear it; even unconscious, Vanitas's body drags air into his lungs and his heart hammers erratically. He's along a precipice, and she can't guess which way he'll fall.

Noé jerks back, accidentally nudging Domi off him. She can even hear one of his shoes scrape the dirt as he tries to move further away.

“You can't!” He exclaims. “He doesn't want strangers prodding at him!”

Jeanne's eyes glance over Vanitas as if she's clicking puzzle pieces together, before she looks straight at Noé again. Her voice is quiet but blunt. “His discomfort isn't important right now. If you or I had a choice on how to die, it wouldn't be in this park.”

Even though Domi knows the words weren't meant for her, they still choke her and prick at her eyes, and she looks away in shame.

“Vanitas said he'd rather die than be examined by a stranger,” Noé says, hesistant and wavering. “I heard him say it only days ago.”

Jeanne replies gently, “He can hate me for the rest of his life after he wakes, then.”

Aside from rapid breathing, Noé is silent. His fingers tangle in black hair and his arm tightens around Vanitas's coat as Jeanne waits, the firm set of her jaw the only sign she won't be patient much longer. Dominique's eyes flick between the two and their stubborn stalemate. They talk as if they barely know each other she idly thinks before she breathes Noé's name.

His face snaps back to her. His wild eyes remind her so much of the night Louis died, the memory strikes through her heart like a pin. She doesn't care about Vanitas, she thinks he's selfish and awful, but she doesn't want him to die, either. She needs to get Noé out of whatever trap between logic and loyalty he's spiralling into.

All she can say is, “You can trust her.”

Noé blinks, nods, and finally, finally loosens his vice grip on the human in his arms. Jeanne's hands slips between the gaps of their bodies and takes Vanitas, cradling him close; the motion barely pulls a strained gasp from him. Similar moans around her draws Dominique's attention away to the crowd she'd almost forgotten. Under faint city lights, she can glimpse other vampires shifting into wakefulness, a scattered few twitch their hands and arms against the pattering rain. Amidst that she half-hears Noé giving information that Vanitas took two shots of the same drug the chasseurs use, though he isn't sure what that is, or where the empty syringes are to give to doctors who may know.

Dominique calls Jeanne's name and the woman faces her. For a fraction of a second, she wants to cower from someone so much stronger than her, who had shaken off harsh words as if they were nothing. Instead Dominique raises her head high. “I hope we can talk later,” she says, too many apologies within her and not enough time to sort any of them into words. But she promises herself she will try. Tonight won't become another moment she hides away as if that means it never happened.

Jeanne nods. “Of course, Lady Dominique.” Then with only a few long strides, she's gone with barely a draft to disturb the misty air.

“I'm sorry, Domi,” Noé says, over and over in the quiet.

“It's fine, it's alright,” she whispers after each apology, until they can almost believe it.

Dominique rests against Noé again. He's wrung out and slouched, but braces himself to support her weight. The other vampires push up onto elbows and knees, mumbling questions, but the pair don't move.

“I was awful,” suddenly rumbles through Domi's ears.

“No, you weren't.” she tells Noé, and can feel through his shoulders how immediately he shakes his head.

“I lost control of myself,” he admonishes.  “I became a monster.”

Domi presses closer to him. If he won't listen, hopefully her presence will show she won't leave him, no matter what he thinks of himself.

Noé's words come out wet and choked. “I let myself become that thing and didn't care.”

Dominique closes her eyes. Unbidden she remembers Noé's face halfway down her fall, and holding a little girl back from her own pain.

Her only response to Noé's self-hatred is to say she understands.

She thinks she should pick up her shoes from wherever they are in the mud, as the crowd around her wonders how they all got here, but her body is too heavy and tired to do so yet. It's fine if she rests a moment more.

#case study of vanitas #vanitas no carte #dominique de sade #jeanne the hellfire witch #noe archiviste

[antihibikase2]

[ Tags Directory ]

Main tags:

antihibikase.txt -> talk tag, same as the main blog. “Announcements” and guides such as this post will be under this tag.

bw/bw2 rewrite -> anything that falls under my rewrite!

i see the truth. -> anything that falls under the Kuroshipping drabble series! This includes anything that would otherwise have been in other tags, such as Chapter 50 taking place in the rewrite.

bw3 -> anything that falls under the non-canonical BW3 timeskip!

others -> tag that I’ll be using for standalone fics and ones that predominantly take place in the verses of other people! 

Arcs and AUs:

This is mainly for the rewrite, and as such, they won’t be tagged as fics or drabbles. Though, there will be other fics (such as those of Cherenverse) with their own “arc” tags, despite being considered spinoffs/AUs! Here are some examples;

bw arc -> the fics centered around the bw portion of the rewrite; Hilbert’s journey through the Major Arcana, Upright.

relic castle arc -> the drabbles centered around the rewrite’s arc after BW2, wherein Relic Castle rises from the sand and brings upon a plague around Unova.

cherenverse -> anything that falls under Cherenverse!

burn heal -> the fics centered around burn heal, an arc of the bw/bw2 rewrite that takes place post-bw2; Cheren is unable to process Hilbert’s return, and realizes just how long two years is.

mutual rotting -> the drabbles centered around Mutual Rotting; Cheren Descante of spqpverse becomes NEO PRO’s CEO. As a gift, he’s given The Vessel- a version of Cheren Slater who lost half his heart, and was taken in by Team Plasma afterwards. Heavy content warnings for this AU.

numeron code -> the drabbles centered around Numeron Code, a Yu-Gi-OH AU featuring Cheren Piper of Pokemashe.

Others:

fic -> some of the more organized fics that’s under the main Pokemon tags in my main blog, like Struggle Bug, the untitled rewrite fics, etc.

drabble -> though drabbles traditionally mean fics that are exactly 100-words in length, this is the tag I’ll be using for the ficlets that are under my main blog’s talk tag, as well as ficlets that are written directly from my stream of conscience. All of “i see the truth” is under this category by default, and will not be tagged as such.

trade -> anything that I’ve written for someone else as part of an art trade!

request -> anything that I’ve written for someone who requested it!

Ship tags will be utilized, such as kuroshipping, shiroshipping, etc. Though these tags will only be utilized for fics/drabbles outside of “i see the truth.” which is Kuroshipping by default.

There are tags for certain duos that appear in collaborated AUs made with mutuals. Currently, there is mutualism ( Descante & Slater ), dualism ( Piper & Slater ), and parasitism ( Achroma & Nikolai).

Anything with content and/or trigger warnings will be tagged as [content /trigger] cw/tw. Feel free to ask to tag certain triggers that I may have missed.

I won’t be using the main tags and character tags as I have in my main for fics; I’m worried it might get a little spammy and it’s so far out of canon anyways. 

#antihibikase.txt

[the-lady-writes-what]

I'm really interested on what projects you are working on atm, do you mind if you can share? 👀

Abt that demon slayer shinobu thingy thingy ficlet you wrote. The story ended with shinobu making a promise to the reader that she will become a better boyfriend than Sanemi, so maybe start with that? IM JUST SUGGESTING TBH I HAVE NO IDEAAAAAA

I have an Obey Me! Shall We Date? fic with Belphie that's been sitting in my drafts for a long while. I have an idea for Pirate! Aizawa, but I don't know where to start. I have a couple drafts saved in my side blog for my Twisted Wonderland for Leona (NSFW) and Lilia (SFW). I'm going to work on a chapter in my Major Arcana fic (for MHA) as I haven't posted anything new for several months. I also have original works, some of which are available on my Patreon.

#the-lady-answers

[theminecraftbee]

smallishsona au: in which joel smallishbeans is the world's most reluctant persona protagonist.

My ongoing au in which Joel is a wild card in an original Persona setting, based on Persona 3/4/5 but not the same as any of them. He and the other members of the cherry blossom hill in Season 10 will awaken to their Personas and try to explore Altered Space, a mysterious realm people are vanishing into, in order to rescue the Vanished and save the world. Also, Joel will do this while despairing the whole time that he somehow ended up in a story that wants him to make friends to get superpowers. That also.

The Story So Far (actual ficlets, listed here in in-universe chronological order):

1: Basic premise/Joel arrives in New Hermiton, hints at Joel's backstory. Written as a bit more of a general au post than a fic, but the important first chapter of this story. Some of the mechanics weren't finalized when I wrote this so some of the keywords are wrong.

2: Joel wakes up in the hospital after awakening his Persona, first proper ficlet.

3: Joel forms his first Social Link with Skizz.

AU Tag:

smallishsona au (contains everything to do with this au on my blog)

chronological tag (only works on desktop, shows all the au posts in chronological order, by which we mean "order i made them" not plot order.)

Important Premise/Mechanics Posts :

Premise/World Mechanics: contains all the basic information on what Persona even is, as well as an explanation of the specific mechanics this specific "Persona game" that I made up runs off of. Contains important concepts like what Altered Space is, what the Vanished are, and how Personas work.

The Main Party: contains the current information on what the main party is, what order they join in, what their Persona and combat abilities are like, and a few little hints as to what they are like themselves.

Social Links: a list of all of Joel's social links, as described by Joel. Gives an arcana to every single social link Hermit.

Velvet Room Mechanics: the specifics of how Joel's velvet room works for him, how Igor fuses Personas, and a little about Jimmy.

Additional Notable Brainstorming Posts:

Velvet Room Jimmy initial thoughts

Early social link brainstorming for Cleo, Xisuma, Doc, Scar, Skizz

Early version of party brainstorming

Early explanation of AU/premise

Additional small "Persona theming" thoughts

Party weapons brainstorming

Lizzie thoughts

Joe, Scar and Grian before the main plot

Bdubs the teacher and pharmacist

Etho, the lovers

Bonus:

Art of Velvet Room Attendant Jimmy by @/phoenixtherobot!

Comic of Etho and Joel's first meeting by @/crystaldoodler!

#smallishsona au #hermitcraft #joel smallishbeans #OKAY i think this is all the important posts for the au! let me know if you'd want anything else here! #i'll go link this in my masterpost now

[sundropscribbles]

Love Letters | Julian Devorak x OG Female Character | 3K

What's this? The first piece of Arcana fiction I've ever published? 🥰 Given how long I've been invested in this game, now, that probably deserves some kind of celebration. All that aside, though, this little ficlet started as a brain-worm and then developed into something sweet and soft for the absolutely wonderful @timmys-and-scribbles! As such, Julianne (the apprentice in this story) was created by and belongs to her! I hope you all enjoy!

Loving Julian Devorak comes with its challenges.

As it stood, this was quite simply a fact. It had always been common knowledge that the doctor could be a bit of a handful, even despite his good heart and his even better intentions. The things and the situations that surrounded him had a tendency to spiral out of control rather quickly — whether it was an good-natured round of cards at the Rowdy Raven, or an innocent debate with Valerius about some court-related thing or another, chaos had a habit of following Julian.

Now — nobody knew any of this better than Julianne did. Asra had gained a fair amount of experience on the topic, and goodness knew Portia understood, but even still: Loving Julian Devorak came with its challenges, yes, but oh… being in love with him was a challenge all its own.

This wasn’t to say that Julianne regretted falling for her dopey, dramatic, thespian lover; she had never regretted that, not for a second. But, gods, there certainly were some days that were much more trifling than others.

And this… this just so happened to be one of those days.

In Julian’s defense, this particular incident wasn’t exactly his fault. His intentions were just as pure and loving as they had always been. His heart was in the right place. There really wasn’t a damn thing he could do to change the situation - even if he had wanted to. It was just…. well, his handwriting was awful.

She had never thought that it would become an issue, not really; they lived together, and where Julian went, Julianne tended to follow. It wasn’t as though they communicated very much in writing, and she hadn’t even been sure that he had remembered her having claimed to be able to read the letter he had written to Portia years back.

Quite unfortunately for her, though, her lovable ruffian had remembered, and now, he had let his adorable, romantic streak get the better of him.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love his cliches, and his grand, sweeping gestures of romance - because she did. She really, really did. At the moment, though, she was holding what she thought might have been a sweet note, addressed to her from Julian. And that was all well and good. She loved that, but damn it… she couldn’t read it. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of it, and it was downright sad.

Her understanding of the what was written began with what she could recognize as her own name, scrawled near the top left corner, but ended abruptly just beyond that. She could pick out a word, maybe two - “sleep”, “soft”, maybe even “love” - but that was about it, apart from his scrawled signature near the bottom.

And she... she hadn’t a clue what to do about it.

He was going to ask about it at some point, wasn’t he? That was a given. And Julianne wasn’t sure she’d be able to get away with making like she had been able to read it again. Julian knew her better than that, now, and there wasn’t any way he wouldn’t see through the facade in an instant. The next best option would have been pretending she had never found the letter at all, but even that would be difficult. And besides, odds were Julian would only continue to try. He was nothing if not persistent, after all, and…

Gods, she was screwed. Well and truly.

After something close to an hour of fretting and then another hour of debate, she winds up going to Portia for help. She doesn’t come to the decision lightly by any means, but she does trust for the most part that asking for Julian’s sister’s help won’t immediately backfire on her. The youngest of the Devoraks did know how to keep a secret, after all. And anyways, it stood to reason that she’d have been able to read his messy scrawl — that was, if Julian had in fact written her letters as frequently as it’d seemed he had.

It was logical, and sound, and there was a fairly good chance that she could depend on her sister-in-law-to to help her out of this mess. And she had felt rather good about the plan, in the end. That was, until she’d actually turned up at Portia’s cottage with the letter in hand, and Portia had laughed. She had laughed, loudly and merrily, and it had been clear then and there that she would be of no help to Julianne.

“You… you can’t read it either?” Juli had squeaked, defeated once more.

“Gods, no,” Portia had giggled, squinting as she had eyed the letter for a long moment before handing it back to a rather wilted-looking Julianne. “Ilya sent me one, maybe two letters in all of the time he spent away. And even then, I had to have Lilinka help me read them. She was the only one who could ever make any sense of his chicken scratch.”

Julianne only sighs heavily at that, dragging a hand through her hair as her gaze falls to the letter in her hands. She loved and hated it in equal measure, because it really was incredibly sweet, but on the other hand… what, exactly, was she supposed to do about this?

“I’ve half a mind to get in contact with The Hanged Man himself,” she grunts. “Maybe he’ll be able to help me out.”

She’s only half-serious — because asking one of the Arcana for the power to read her own husband’s handwriting is downright silly, and she knows it — but Portia still cackles, dropping onto the couch next to her unceremoniously.

“Have you considered telling him you can’t actually read it?” she suggests with a smirk.

“No!“ she squawks, indignant as ever. “I can’t! That’s — it’s — “ Embarrassing, was what it was. And the last thing she wanted was to admit to it. It was looking more and more like that would be her only option, though, and… damn it.

Portia never stops snickering, not even as she stands from the couch and finds her way into the kitchen (where Pepi has been ‘mewing’ her desire for lunch for a handful of minutes, now).

“Well, you could always distract him with sex,” she suggests with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Maybe he’ll forget all about it.”

Normally she might have blushed in response to Portia’s teasing, used to it as she may have been. But distracting Julian with sex? That wasn’t a bad idea. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done it before, anyways, amidst petty arguments and on days she felt like dragging him home from the clinic without a fuss. And so today, instead of blushing, she grins.

“You’re a genius, Portia,” she says, grinning as she stands from the couch and heads for the door — though not before pausing to tug the shorter woman into a one-armed hug.

Portia only laughs harder, and with that, Julianne scurries out the door.

-

Rather luckily for the stubborn magician, Julian doesn’t actually wind up coming home until well after sunset.

It had been a very busy day at the clinic, evidently, and by the time he comes sauntering through the front door, it’s dark out. He looks positively exhausted, and he heaves a thick sigh as he sheds his coat and then ducks to work at the buckles on his boots.

“Darling, I’m home,” he shouts halfheartedly, and Julianne pauses. As it was, she had only just started getting ready for bed. And that was rather lucky, too, she supposed, given her situation. Normally, she’d have slept in something loose and comfortable — one of Julian’s shirts, more often than not — but she hadn’t taken any risks, tonight. No, tonight she had purposefully worn something much more revealing. It was skimpy and soft; the straps were thin and the neckline sinfully low, and the fabric was primarily a lovely, translucent lace. It was a beautiful sage green in color, and it was downright distracting.

Or, well. She hoped that it would be, at least.

She delicately combs both of her hands through her hair — purposefully left down to fall across her shoulders — and with a soft sigh of her own, she wanders down the stairs to meet Julian.

“Welcome home, Ilya,” is what she decides to lead with. He’s not noticed her yet, too busy struggling to remove his obscenely tall boots to have looked up just yet. “Long day?”

His response is a soft groan, as his boots are finally kicked aside. He stands upright a handful of seconds later, dragging a hand through his hair as he nods his agreement. “Very long,” he laments, tugging his eyepatch off and tossing it aside in a manner that clearly indicates his happiness to be rid of it for the evening. “And hardly as exciting as you might assume. Some of these patients, darling, I’m telling you—! I’m not sure how many more times I can tolerate having to explain that there isn’t a cure for allergies, or a common cold. Not even leeches can — oh.”

He’s looked up, now. Smack in the middle of his frustrated rambling, he’s managed to catch a glimpse of Julianne, smiling softly at him and presenting herself just so, and… oh.

“Welcome home, indeed,” he purrs, and immediately strides forward to meet her. His still-gloved hands settle at her waist, first and foremost, and his touch is warm and appreciative as he spends a handful of moments looking her over more thoroughly. “To what do I owe this absolute vision?”

“Oh, no occasion in particular, darling,” she responds, melting right into his touch just the way that she always does. Perfect, she thinks. It’s working, then. “I just thought you deserved something nice. What with that long day of yours.”

One of his hands wanders upward, touching and tracing the length of her torso reverently. He only pauses when the palm of his hand reaches her neck, and the smile on his face grows all the more mischievous as he threads his fingers into her hair and ducks forward to kiss her lips.

“Mm, you spoil me,” he mumbles into the kiss. In the next instant his hands are on her hips, gracefully lifting her up and hauling her in close. Her legs wind themselves around his waist on instinct, and her lips curl into a delighted smile against his as she clings to him. “It’s only fair that I do the same for you, isn’t it?”

It’s not another moment before they’re up the stairs and off to the bedroom, then, and… Gods. It’s a win-win situation through and through. There’s never a word said about the letter, and Julian spends the next several hours doing positively filthy things to her with his tongue and his fingers alike.

It’s perfect, and more importantly, she’s safe.

Or so she thinks.

It’s in the early hours of the morning that Julianne finds herself being tugged in close to her beloved doctor’s chest, peppered in loving kisses and brought to consciousness both by the affection and the warmth of the morning sun.

“Mmf,” she mutters, tucking her face against his neck insistently as she comes to. “Ilya?”

“Good morning, my love,” he murmurs into her hair. It sounds as though he’s been awake for some time, and there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. It makes her smile, too, even as she yawns widely, and then proceeds to groan at the obviously early hour.

“Why’re you up,” she asks, returning a handful of his kisses. “S’too early to be up.” He laughs softly, then, and presses another to the top of her head.

“I was just… admiring, that’s all,” he sighs. His hands wander the length of her back, fingertips delicately tracing the lacy little thing that she’s still wearing. He had never taken it off of her the night before — not at the start, and not as he’d held her beneath him and showed her exactly how much he appreciated it.

She smiles softly as she gathers her wits about her. It’s achingly sweet, and she’s definitely about to respond with some flirtatious quip or another, but he beats her to it before she has the chance.

Though she can’t see it just yet, there’s a hint of mischief in his smile, and it only grows as he speaks. “If all of the silly little notes I write to you result in this, I might just have to do it more often.”

And — oh. Oh no.

She laughs softly perhaps a touch awkwardly at the suggestion. It’s certainly something of a challenge to bite back her panic, but she manages it quite expertly. Her expression is cool and calm as she leans back to meet his eyes, and she even manages to keep a hint of subtle flirtation in her tone as she speaks.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says with a smirk. “Do you really think you could keep that level of charm up for so long?”

Despite her cool, collected facade, her panic only rises. Because oh, Gods — of everything she could have said, she had gone with that?. It wasn’t wise. Not in the least. Julian was as competitive as he was persistent, and — and — fuck. She was fucked.

“Oh, darling, you wound me!” he sighs, as dramatic as ever. He leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead anyways, though, laughing softly as he drops the act. “Still, though… perhaps I did peak with that first one.”

Relief washes over Julianne at that, and she nods her agreement. “Well, it isbest not to overdo it, isn’t it?” she suggests with a smile.

“You may be right,” he agrees with a nod, and she relaxes further at that, because thank goodness. If she could just… casually talk him out of the idea just as quickly as she’d talked him into it…

Quite unfortunately, however, she comes to find out soon enough that her relief had come very prematurely, because another few seconds later, Julian is grinning again. “I’m rather curious, though — did you have any favorite bits? Tidbits I could revisit in the future, perhaps?”

And she… she doesn’t have a good response to that. She doesn’t have an alibi, or a white lie, or an escape route, because in truth? She hadn’t been able to make sense of a single line of the letter. He’s asking her for specifics, now, and she’s got nothing.

“I — er — uhm,” she stammers, clearly floundering. In the midst of her panic, she fails to notice the amused gleam in his eyes — the way that he’s biting back soft laughter as she struggles to put together a response.

“Speechless, are you?” he teases, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Or… perhaps it wasn’t very good after all?”

“No! I — it was! It’s… ah, the way, um — that line where…“ she continues to try, stubborn as ever. Positively refusing to let herself fail.

However, it isn’t very much longer before Julian himself can no longer keep up the act. He dissolves into delighted laughter roughly thirty seconds in, and it stuns Julianne into silence.

“My dear,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “You could have just told me that you couldn’t read it.”

Julianne makes an indignant noise at that, and the shock in her expression dissolves into something rather more like a comically angry pout as she looks up at him.

“What—! How—“ she begins to ask, but it hits her before she ever gets the question out. Portia. She curses under her breath, and another moment later, she nudges him halfheartedly. It only makes him laugh more, and she grumbles and rolls her eyes at that. “That’ll be the last time I trust your sister with my secrets, then.”

“Come now,” he grins, brushing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes (even though she’s still refusing to meet his gaze). “I thought it was adorable, how hard you tried to be convincing.”

She makes another disgruntled sound at that, though instead of pulling away, this time, she rolls into his arms with a forlorn sigh.

“It’s embarrassing,“ she whines, forehead pressed firmly to his chest. He rumbles with soft laughter, again, and she pouts. “…and to be fair, we live together! I never thought that fib about being able to read that old letter of yours would ever come up again.”

Julian just grins, though, and presses another adoring kiss into his silly little magician’s hair.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he sighs, cuddling her close. “I’d dare say that little fib was downright cunning of you.”

She blinks, raising her head a fraction at that and eyeing him curiously. “…you would?”

He’s still smiling at her, and though the embarrassment of it all hasn’t faded just yet, it’s rather reassuring.

“It got me to talk, didn’t it?” he points out, and she huffs.

“It did,” she admits, and though her tone is still a touch reluctant, the smile on her face is soft and fond.

“And now we’re here. Married and terribly domestic, all because of your embarrassing fib,” he goes on to say, and that’s what breaks her. Her small smile brightens into a grin, and another handful of seconds later she’s giggling, flush with laughter and clinging to him as she nods her head.

“Gods, that… it really is the little things, isn’t it?” she snickers, and Julian hums.

“That it is,” he agrees, giving her a squeeze.

Her laughter settles soon enough, and as she relaxes into his arms once more, she sighs.

“It really was sweet, though,” she promises. “You’ll read it to me sometime, won’t you?”

“Of course I will, darling,” he promises, sealing the words first with a tender kiss to her forehead, and then another to her lips not a moment later. And she’s perfectly content with that, sated and just about ready to sink into another few hours of sleep. Julian, though… Julian has other ideas.

His hands wander toward the small of her back and then dip lower, and his smile grows devious as his touch shamelessly lingers on her ass for a very long moment before sliding toward the backs of her thighs, instead.

“So long as it gets me more of this?” he asks. His tone is low and sultry, and Julianne ignores the slight hitch in her breath in favor of swatting at him playfully.

“Oh, you’re a menace,” she complains. There isn’t any real fight behind it, though, and the moment he laughs and begins to pull away, she moves in closer. Presses him onto his back, and swings a leg across his hips. Indulges him.

She’ll always indulge him, as big a menace as he might be.

And… well, screw it. Love letters were overrated, anyways.

#the arcana #the arcana ficlets #the arcana apprentice #the arcana game #julian devorak #the arcana julian #mc x julian #julianne allgeier #fanfiction #fic #the arcana fan fiction #original character #fan apprentice #ilya devorak #julian x mc #julian x apprentice #lfv fic

[ilyas-destroyer]

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

This is the closest to vanilla I'll ever get.

CW: 🍋 Primal Kink vibes but soft, light dom/sub, size difference kink

Muriel x GN!Reader

_______________

Muriel watched you intently as you spoke, your face illuminated by the fireplace and your antics spurred to a fever, caused by the now empty bottle of wine at your feet.

He chuckles, deep and smooth as he listens to you complain for probably the fifth time about walking into a room you shouldn't have at the shop and seeing Julian and Asra in ways you really shouldn't have. Then again, the Hermit mused, knowing Asra and Julian, they may be doing it on purpose.

He allowed the thought to concern him but a moment before catching sight of your flushed face, your eyes distant, lips parted. Your name travels to you in barely a whisper as he says it.

Muriel was not usually the jealous type, nor the possessive, opting rather to give those around him the space to simply be and live for themselves. But from what his partner had told him of what they had witnessed and the silent yearning looks he's seen from you he could tell you had found something that caught your eye.

Catching his gaze you grin a little sheepishly, you know that look from him. He's considering something he thinks is embarrassing, a want, a need, an urge. You give him the space to process and in that time he's gulped down two Black meads, he must be serious about this.

"I—", he gulps, his throat dry despite the heavy drink,"—can do those things for you too."

Your eyes widen as you stare incredulously at him, the image of Julian bound and crying comes to your mind, causing scarlet to bloom across your cheeks. Muriel had always been so careful, so restrained. Had you only assumed it was only for his sake? Was he holding back? Or just trying to please you?

Your eyes dart to his hands as you search for an answer. They were so big, calloused and strong, you couldn't help imagining them gripped almost too tightly around your neck.

Flushed and eager, you shift from your position, crossed-legged in front of the fire to rest on your hands and knees in front of him, nodding as you do. Seated across from you his face grows red as well as he takes your confirmation into consideration.

After a moment he nods to himself, the red in his face darkening as he moves to stand, now towering over your submissive form. You shift to follow suit but he shakes his head at you, raising a flattened hand, indicating for you to stay, his face calm and steady.

Like a dog, you realize with a shiver.

He steps toward you with purpose, kneeling to meet your gaze, he places a finger under your chin to gently force your eyes to his.

"I've—", he pauses, steeling himself, "—thought about this before you know? About letting go with you". His eyes search yours, looking for something. Distrust? Fear? Not finding any he pushes closer toward you, his hand shaking as his heavy-lidded eyes drop to your lips. "I've wondered what it would be like."

He pulls you close, his lips crashing over yours, his hands finding your legs as he does. He's grabbing you desperately, dragging you to his lap with one large powerful hand, while the other finds the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

You attempt to reach out to him but he quickly catches your wrists, palming them behind your back with one massive hand as he looks at you, breathless and serious.

"You would tell me if you didn't like something right? I'll stop if you tell me to, just make sure you tell me."

You struggle desperately against his grip, but it's steady dispute your best efforts, his fingers are still curled stubbornly in your hair, forcing your gaze to his. Your head is still swirling from the heat of the kiss when you finally stammer out," Yes Muriel... Please don't stop."

Your reaction earns you a slack-jawed look from the massive man and he stares at you, as if only now realizing you're position, on his lap, your hands pinned behind you, face crimson, breath coming through your arched chest in desperate gasps.

The corner of his mouth twitches, a soft smile threatening to form at the corner of his lips. He releases you, moving away, leaving you fever hot and aching against the cold of the room. You let out an aching cry but he holds out a hand again, silencing you as he moves to seat himself on the bed, removing his cloak and shirt, exposing the hard muscles and faded lines of scars across his body. He keeps his gaze on you all the while, the fire casting shadows across his expression, his face resembling that of a hungry wolf stalking his prey.

"Take them off—“, his voice wavers slightly, he's nervous, he shifts to make himself more comfortable," —your clothes. "

You rise and begin to slowly peel away your layers and are rewarded with a low, menacing growl that sends shivers down your spine. You can't help but look away, suddenly shy in front of the hulking man.

" Faster", his demand is barely more than a whisper but has you quickly discarding your clothing onto the floor.

"Kneel."

You throw yourself to your knees and he's crossing the room, his steps fast and decisive, his hands working to release himself from his pants. Before you can comprehend fully what is happening his hard tip is pressing at your mouth, your lips part and you lock eyes as he eases his way in, savoring the wet feeling of your tongue. The animalistic snarl that escapes him when he catches sight of the desperate look in your eyes seems to set him off, causing him to buckle his hips, thrusting viciously into the back of your throat. Your arousal aches between your legs, pressure building and swirling, begging for relief as your mouth is fucked by the usually docile giant, and all you can do between relentless thrusts is let out soft whimpering moans.

He pulls away suddenly, leaving you drooling, lips swollen, eyes watering and half-closed. He scoops you up into his arms, pushes you down by your chest with one massive hand, pinning you there as his lips trail electric kisses between your thighs, his teeth catching your skin teasingly gentle as his mouth inches towards your core.

Its maddening, he's so close to giving you what you want, you lose yourself totally, begging, whimpering whining and are swiftly rewarded with a chuckle, so deep you feel it vibrate against your skin.

His tongue slides frustratingly slowly against your aching need, causing stars to appear before your eyes and your head to swim. He's tasting you hungrily, taking in all he can and it's not long before you find your whole body spasaming against his face, your hands gripped tightly in his long black hair. And he doesn't stop, he keeps going and going until you beg him to free you, overstimulated and shaking he eventually releases you from your perfect prison.

You look up at his looming, powerful form above you. Is he smirking? Your eyes travel from his amused expression to his still painfully hard cock, now gleaming with slick at the tip.

"Mur—", you never get the rest of your thought out before he's yanking you closer by your thighs and burying himself inside of you. Sucking air in between his teeth, he can't hold back any longer.

The table shakes and groans under you as he pulls your body up and down his cock effortlessly, his fingers digging greedily into you, likely leaving bruises you know he will regret later, but you can't bring yourself to make him stop. It feels so good, him taking you like this. He's drinking you in with his eyes. Watching your body bounce and shake against him. You can barely think or react before you're cumming again. Pathetic weak cries escaping you as he finally spills inside you. Jagged, breathless groans and grunts echoing around you as his cock twitches and throbs inside of you. He's falling forward, covering you totally with his torso, his head craning down to kiss the top of your head as the last of his shudders take him. Your name spoken like a prayer over and over again.

#the arcana game #muriel route #muriel of the kokhuri #the arcana smut #The arcana headcannon #Muriel x you #Muriel x reader #Muriel x Apprentice #Muriel upright route #The arcana muriel #Muriel the arcana #The hermit #Muriel the mountain man #The arcana fanfiction #The arcana fanfic #Ficlet #the arcana imagines #gender neutral character

[starletcake]

Why the Arcana make deals - Fic

!!!Spoilers for MC's past!!!

This is just a snippet of a fic I wrote for myself, a conversation with my Arcana MC, Saya, and her aunt. I thought I post it cause it also is kinda a little theory of mine why and how the Arcana help humans/magicians and make deals with them, and, what bugged me the most, what Asra had to give up to revive MC, cause I can’t believe it’s just harder for you to form real connections in order to bring a whole ass human back.

English isn’t my first language, so please forgive any mistakes there might be!

"Hm" something just didn't sit right with me. "What is it, dear? Do you have a question?" my aunt asked. "Well, yes. If the Arcana are such powerful beings, why are they helping us? Why do they whisper to us, why tell us about the future? What do they gain?" I can't simply believe that the Arcana are helping the humans out of sheer goodness of their heart. She chuckled "Very good question, but do you know the saying 'Never look a gift horse in the mouth'?" "So... I should just accept it?" "Oh gods no, I just wanted to say that I find this saying quite ridiculous" I deadpanned. "I think it is very good that you asked, because there is always a catch. You have a sharp mind. It is dangerous to just take all these gifts without questioning them, because then you will lose your ability to see the truth. And the truth is, that the Arcana _do _take something from you." "They do? What do they take?" "Your time" I frowned "But... how? Wouldn't I sense that? Or have to agree with that? And what would they do with time, aren't they practically immortal?" "You see, that exactly is the point." She grinned at me and whispered the following words in my ear "They are jealous" My eyes widened. Jealous? The Arcana, almighty immortal beings, jealous of a mere human? "I know what you are thinking" she chuckled "And yes, even such gods like themselves can be jealous. You know, it can be very tiring to live on forever. Every human life seems so insignificant to them, because our limited time on this planet is like a blink of an eye in theirs. But being mortal is what makes life so beautiful. We only have the time we were given, it is our choice what to do with it, we can change, we can determine our fate, we are not set in stone, like they all are" Slowly I got it "You can also see it from this perspective. If you look at a dog, what do you see? What part of it are you jealous of?" "Why would I be jealous of a dog-" "Think" And then I realized. Dogs lifes are so simple. All they have to do is sleep and eat. No real responsibilities , no complicated life choices, and most of them barely live 15 years. 15 years for a human may not just be a blink of an eye, but it certainly is just a fraction of what we will live. Of what we will know, of what we will think about. Yes, I see how someone could be jealous of something like that. In my eyes the life of a dog is much less significant, or maybe simpler than that of a human, but to a dog? It's their whole life. They live in the present. They're alive and happy about existing. But does that mean...

"So...are they using us...as pets?" "Hm, well, you could describe it like that. Maybe a pastime. Maybe a plaything. Maybe they want to learn something from us. The intentions vary. But they do all have this in common, they are obsessed with us, even when it doesn't seem this way" I pet the old dog on Aunties lap "Like some of us are obsessed with dogs" "Exactly! Now you got it" We both laughed.

"Just like the intentions can vary, the methods to play with us can too, but the most important thing is often time. Our perception of it. We actually only live in the present, for us, there is no real past or future. The past only exists because we have memories, the future only exists because we can think. I believe it is different for the Arcana. Time and Space don't really apply to them by the rules we know or can comprehend. So, some of them try to experience our lifestyle. Sometimes through deals. Sometimes through lies and manipulation. Sometimes by helping and watching us. It's different, as well as the intentions differ."

I got an uncomfortable gut feeling and I guess it showed because of what my aunt said next "Yeah, I know what you think and yes, I guess some of the Arcana aren't that good willed than others. Even though they cannot outright lie, they are more than wise enough to fool people easily, even when we as humans can still surprise them. They may seem like they are doing you a huge favor, but actually you are giving them exactly what they want from you. Do you know what in most cases is being traded?" "Ehm... I don't know... Maybe their soul?" She chuckled "One might think so, but actually, no. The Arcana cannot really do much with a soul of a human. They maybe could trap them when they are important or interfering, but this isn't nearly as often the case than something different. What do they envy us for?" "Time... was it?" "Exactly. They steal our time or our perception of time. We don't have anything from the future, but we do have something from the past" "...Memories" "You got it. Memories. The Arcana are obsessed with memories as one would say. No matter how wise and old and powerful they may seem, memories from humans are what they crave for. They know everything from the past, they know exactly what happened, why something happened, who is responsible and what the absolute truth is. Our memories alter. Sometimes they hide to protect us from something too painful, they bend our perception to fit our picture of the world better, they change with every second, they change, even though the past is set in stone, we change, the Arcana are stagnant and boring and dull, they were created for a reason and for a sole purpose, we can learn and adapt, they cannot. That is why they find memories so interesting. Because the past defines us, but we define our memories, which define our past." I crunched up my eyebrows. That was... a lot to take in at a time. "So tell me, Saya, would you ever let your memories be altered? Be taken away?" "What..? No, of course not! ... I mean, I think I wouldn't..." "Really? What if... they were really bad memories. What if those memories cause immense pain in the present?" I thought back to my parents. To my magic. To my hometown. "Well... I guess the right answer would be no... I wouldn't, because those past experiences and memories make me who I am today" My aunt chuckled "Yes, I guess in that case there is a „right“ answer. But how about... if it would involve another person? Say, you could help someone by erasing some of your memories. Maybe even save them? Bring them back to life?" I falter as she stares at me "Not so easy now to give a right answer, isn't it? To make it even harder, would you be ready to give up someone else's memories?" This whole ordeal was making my head hurt "These whole moral questions are making me depressed. Why are you asking me all this? Did the Arcana tell you that I will be in such a situation somewhere in the future?" She burst out laughing "That would be way too clear of a message if they would tell me that. No, no I told you for the possibility you will ever find yourself in a position, where you want to retrieve those memories" She winked at me.

Retrieve? "But...wouldn't that break the deal?"  "Well... the Arcana aren't the only ones who can make vague deals. The thing with memories is, that it is not something you can cut out of a brain. Somehow, somewhere this piece of a muscle inside our dull heads still has those memories, like muscle-, or rather nerve-memory. It is weird, it's like they're in this void, where, when you try to activate them, your entire brain shuts down until these memories are deactivated again. But our brain changes over time too, so this void can get leaks and with the right stimulations and triggers, they automatically can get restarted, you know?" I didn't, but she didn't care. She spoke like there was no tomorrow "It is not that we retrieve the memories back from the Arcana who took them, it is like we put the pieces of a puzzle back together, and recreate something that was already, or rather, _is _still there. But, well, you know, that isn't really as easy as it sounds." It didn't sound easy at all. Like, through this entire conversation I didn't think once that retrieving your taken, mixed up, hidden information from some kind of void in your brain was easy. But I let her in this belief and asked "So, I guess your whole point of telling me this is that you want to pass on the great wisdom you have gotten through your time and tribulations on how to retrieve those memories to me?" She smirked down at me "Don't make fun of this little one. Who knows, one time this knowledge can save someone's life - or identity." "Sorry, I didn't mean to be disrespectful." I said, even though I knew she wasn't really upset "It just seems so... improbable you know? I don't think I will be ever in this kind of situation" "You never know my child. Deals aren't as rare as you think. It is best to know as much as you can, so you can protect yourself and those you hold dear" she looked out of the window, longing... Did she...? "Well, I don't know if I have many... to hold dear" I told her when she looked back and smiled sadly, but fondly. She caressed my cheek while she said "Don't worry. You will" I tilted my head. "Did the Arcana tell you that?" She laughed wholeheartedly "Oh dear, I don't need higher wisdom to know that. But that gives me the more evidence that we really have to start on your Tarot reading, or meeting the Arcana in general, I think you have a misjudgment about how they really are"

#arcana #the arcana #the arcana game #asra alnazar #mc #fanfiction #the arcana fancition #the arcana theory #the arcana deals #the arcana fic #foreshadowing #the arcana spoilers #apprentice #the arcana apprentice #ficlet #drabble #the arcana imagine #the arcana drabble #i change times so many times #past present future who even cares #self shipping #asra x mc #asra x reader #asra x apprentice