#the janiverse

[janeelyakiri]

More additions to the ever expanding janiverse

*sobs* HELP THEY JUST KEEP HAPPENING

#there's in progress ones too................. AAA

[into-the-daniverse]

I And Love And You | Jamil x Valerius

A cozy, lovey Valjam fic for @sunrisenfool​ who requested the prompt 11. Morning kisses that are exchanged before either person opens their eyes, kissing blindly until their lips meet in a blissful encounter from the 50 Kisses Prompts.

In which, Jamil and Valeriy share one of many, many mornings to come together.

Title: I And Love And You by The Avett Brothers 1k words

The only thing that told Jamil that he was awake was the sound of birds outside the window. Everything else—the feeling of the lush sheets around him, Valeriy lying across his chest, hand in his, breathing softly against his skin—was just like his dream had been. He didn’t want to open his eyes in case he was still dreaming, afraid the birds could have been part of the dream as well.

Over the many, many years they had known each other, Jamil had dreamed about moments like this dozen, maybe hundreds, of times. And there had been a period, one brief year in the middle of it all, where they weren’t just dreams. Where Jamil did get to wake up holding Val close, kiss him senseless, listen to everything Val complained about with a smile on his face.

Then it had ended, like everything else the plague took away, and all Jamil had left anymore were dreams. Some of them had felt so real, so vivid, he would wake up with tears on his cheeks when he realized he was alone. He would have given anything to be back where he was now, in Valeriy’s bed, the other man wrapped around him, hair unraveled around them.

For a heartbeat, Jamil almost convinced himself that he was still dreaming, that he would open his eyes and his lover would be gone. But then he felt Val stir, his lips starting to travel slowly over Jamil’s chest.

Relief flooding through Jamil, he smiled as Val’s lips traveled higher, as if searching him out. His hands came to rest on Val’s back, running his fingers along his spine as Val held his face in his hands, kissing around his face until he landed on Jamil’s lips. It wasn’t until Val pulled back, resting his arms on the sides of Jamil’s face to prop himself up, that Jamil opened his eyes.

In the late morning sun, much later than Jamil was used to, Valeriy looked beautiful. Granted, he looked beautiful at all times of day and night, but the way the sun shone through his hair as it draped over his shoulder, and how the light caught in his eyes, almost igniting them, paired with the soft, still tired smile on his lips made him all the more stunning. Jamil wanted to capture the way he looked, before the rest of the world caught up to him, in his heart forever. He wanted to keep that little bit of Val to himself, and he wanted him to never leave his side.

What he said instead, tucking some of Val’s hair behind his ear, was: “I think that was the best night of sleep I’ve ever had in my life.”

Val laughed through his nose. “As if we did that much sleeping.”

“Well, there’s nothing saying we have to get up yet, is there?”

“Actually—”

Jamil cut him off with another kiss, rolling over to pin Val underneath him in the sheets. Whatever Val was going to say was lost as his arms wrapped around Jamil’s shoulders, his leg hooking behind Jamil’s knee. Smiling against his lips, Jamil’s hand came to rest on Val’s hip, propping himself up on his other elbow.

When they pulled apart, Val held Jamil’s face in his hands, stroking his cheeks as he looked at Jamil. Looking at Val properly in the morning light made love swell in Jamil’s chest, all of the thoughts he had been holding back coming to the front of his mind again. He pressed a kiss to the palm of Val’s hand, staring at him through his eyelashes. “I love you, Valeriy,” he murmured. “I love you so much.”

Val opened his mouth to respond, but Jamil shook his head gently and kept speaking, tracing circles into Val’s hip with his thumb.

“I want to marry you one day.” Val’s eyes widened; his breath caught in his throat. Jamil paused, kissing his hand again, and continued. “And this—this isn’t me officially asking. But I will. Because I want to marry you, and to wake up like this every day for the rest of our lives. I want to grow old with you, Val, and go wherever you want to go, do whatever you want to do, because I love you more than anything. I want to watch you be happy, I want to make you happy.

“I’ll never stop regretting the time we wasted, the time I wasted, because I was too focused on running away, but I’m done running away, and I want to spend all the time I have left with you. Every morning, every afternoon, every evening, every second in between, until you get tired of me, because I will never get tired of you. Never. You have been the love of my life since we were teenagers, baby. And we keep coming back to each other.”

Jamil blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall, smiling at Val as he fought back his own tears, face flushed. “And I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you.”

Val pulled Jamil’s face to his, kissing him deeply, both of their breaths coming out in gasps as their emotions tumbled out. Jamil knew he was trying to gather himself to reply and indulged him, kissing back as long as Val wanted him to. When he pushed back against Jamil, and he pulled away to look down at Val, they both had wet trails down their cheeks.

Letting out a choked laugh, Val wiped away his own tears. “I can’t believe I’m going to start my day with red, puffy eyes, you horrible man.”

Jamil smiled, kissing his forehead. “Should I take everything I said back then?”

Val gave him a glare, but it was softened by the way his eyes still watered. “Only if you didn’t mean it.”

“I meant every word of it.”

“Then, no. Don’t take it back.”

Finding his lips again felt better than any dream Jamil had ever had, feeling their bodies come together like they had been made for the other better than any other thought in his mind. There was nothing, no one, he wanted more.

#the arcana #daniverse fic #daniverse oc #50 kisses prompts #jamil #consul valerius #technically not but you know #valjam #the janiverse #valeriy radosevic

[vampiresuns]

Tales of the Laochra People of the Snowcap Mountains | A gift for into-the-daniverse

1.7k words. In which Sanlaurento gets Meredith a birthday gift. Pirate, poet & lawyer JC Sanlaurento from ‘Secrets of an Ancient Moon’  makes a comeback, this time to celebrate the birthday of the Pirate Queen Meredith, who belongs to @into-the-daniverse​, my beloved.

Thank you, Dani, as always, for creating with me and giving me the pleasure of creating with you.

This fic features Dani’s ‘Laochra Tribe’ — you can read their Worldbuilding post about them here.

Universe: The Janiverse

Characters featured: JC Sanlaurento, Meredith, Saoirse, Theodore (mentioned), Death Itself (mentioned)

CWs: Discussions of diaspora and displacement; Discussions and mentions of characters being the few survivors of a group of people now gone/defunct/eliminated.

“‘The Tales and History of the Laochra People of the Snowcap Mountains” is the only written account that exists of the now disappeared Laochra Tribe. Its first edition was published in the year 647:A98. Written by Antares Julianus Cleopatra Sanlaurento, an Alzoreñe lawyer, poet and pirate. It was constructed out of a written recollection of oral tellings by Meredith Gwynsdottir, Pirate Queen, and other scattered documents by minor anthropologists or maps from the region. Originally printed in two tomes, it is considered one of the most complete readings on any Southern Tribe, as it includes not just socio-cultural aspects and mythology, but linguistic accounts.”

— An account, found in a reading list of an academic newspaper

For Meredith. Aithníonn ciaróg eile. [It takes one to know one]

PS: Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine. [Under the shelter of each other, people survive]

— Epigraph found in ‘The Tales and History of the Laochra People’. It is the only part of the book that remains handwritten in Sanlaurento’s penmanship.

Meredith was not an easy to fool person. Good thing, then, that JC wasn’t trying to fool her. No, instead, their efforts had begun with an innocent encouragement one night where the Queen had taken up to the rest of her crew, deciding to spend their free evening with them instead of her quarters. She had off-handedly mentioned a fragment of a story that her ‘Da’ used to tell her. Julianus, curious and hungry for stories like all raconteurs were, simply asked her about it.

They said some things weren’t the same when they came from Saoirse’s explanations. Some things, when they came to people, had to come from them. 

“Besides,” they added with half a shrug, “language without understanding of the culture will always be incomplete.”

For reasons Julianus wasn’t about to question the Pirate Queen opened her mouth to tell the rest of the story. 

It hadn’t been easy, nor the idea had come automatically to them. After that first kick, the Queen’s Lawyer took the habit of asking her about her tribe, their customs and their language from time to time — always making the disclaimer that Meredith could say no, and Julianus would not get offended. They understood, in their own way, what it was like to speak of a place that was gone; a place that should’ve been home but wasn’t. Even if some Laochra survived, scattered to the winds like Diaspora does to the spores of new and old life, the tribe as Meredith knew it was lost forever. 

Much like the Altazor that should’ve-been was for Julianus. 

Meredith seldom said no, to Julianus’ surprise. Sometimes she did, of course, but sooner or later she’d come around it, calling out to Sanlaurento (it startled them every time) to tell her whatever bit of information they had asked about and she didn’t want to part with at the moment. They never asked anything extremely personal, not about what it hurt. Sanlaurento didn’t interrogate, it was more like they weaved the stories they were told, unweaved them, and weaved them again. Tale and Language, Myth and Truth Recorded, one by one, Julianus ended up with a handful of constellations about a people they had never met. 

Naturally, they began to write it down. Lists upon lists of details and worldvisions, of idiosyncrasies, scathology, legends, customs and everyday life. More than once Meredith even surprised herself by giving some of that information to Sanlaurento without request; she shared them just because (or for reasons she never stated out loud). One day, she said out loud to the room that she didn’t understand how someone could care that much, just for the sake of caring. 

She didn’t expect Saoirse to reply: “Julie’s like that. They see all of us as stories worth being told.”

Meredith’s cheeks turned a furious red, her frown deep and her mouth curled in an annoyed snarl. She dropped the subject immediately. Trust Saoirse’s annoying bastard of a partner to have crept like that under her skin. Meredith would defend them at gunpoint if someone soured their day, that was her job and her job only. 

Saoirse smirked at Meredith like she knew, and Meredith shot them a death-stare, even if she knew the Quartermaster would never even flinch.

* * *

The idea came to them out of nowhere, while they were lying in theirs and Saoirse’s bed. 

“What if I write it?”

“Hm?”

“I know enough of both languages to write a bilingual version.”

They didn’t need to specify, Saoirse already knew what they were talking about. With tenderness, they grabbed their hand and began kissing their fingers. “You could even write a dictionary too.”

Julianus’ smile was radiant like the stars on a clear night. “Maybe I should.”

* * *

Two years, four months and six days later the first version of the manuscript of The Tales and History of the Laochra Tribe of the Snowcap Mountains was complete and fully transcribed in Saoirse’s handwriting, as Meredith did not understand Julianus’ half of the time. JC hadn’t even asked Saoirse to do it, they had taken to it on their own during their many free hours with the original excuse of there being a copy of it, just in case, and their Julie not having the time to do it. Or the fatigue-free tendons. 

The manuscript was long enough that only advanced printing presses, like those in Zadith, some cities of Prakra and Balkovia, and maybe Vesuvia (if the rumours of modernization of the City-State under the Countess’ and her Consul’s rule were true) print them. Printing, however, wasn’t up to them — Julianus hadn’t needed to say it aloud for the nature of the Tales to be understood: it was a gift for Meredith, so it needed Meredith’s revision and approval. They were prepared to argue their case though, as they had learnt to be. They wanted to print it after it was revised so people would not forget, so the Laochra could still live on, not just through Meredith but through her words. Words now written in magically sealed ink. 

Words that would not fade away, so if the chain of life sustained in the memories of others ever broke, Meredith’s people would still live on. When Sanlaurento dropped the hundreds of pages long manuscript in Meredith’s desk they told her as much, despite their racing heart. 

“I didn’t actually plan to finish it for your birthday, that was just a coincidence.”

Meredith’s usual annoyed scowl had softened as Sanlaurento explained what she had in front of her, after her initial “What’s this supposed to be” and “I’m in the middle of something, Sanlaurento,” even though she wasn’t really busy. Saoirse would know, and Julianus asked Saoirse before going to see Meredith personally. As they explained, they had begun to flip on the parchment papers of the hand sewn manuscript and even trace the lines of a map that had been inserted in the manuscript through a transfer spell. 

There it was. Her people’s history as she had told her, as others had documented it too, complete with a note of thanks and dedication to her. She didn’t understand. She, of course, knew Sanlaurento cared, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that Julianus did, that their entire life was an exercise on caring, of weaving, of telling, of doing, simply because they cared. Yet one thing was having someone who listened to her, from time to time. Someone who was asking her to correct any mistakes they could’ve left unnoticed so the story of Meredith’s people could be told, was something else entirely. 

Her eyes stung. Julianus had never seen Meredith crying but they didn’t say anything, afraid the Queen would quick them out. 

“Why can’t Saoirse correct it?”

“They did, here and there, but that was mostly editorial and of form, not of content. If I wanted Saoirse to do it, I would’ve asked them to.”

“But why? Why don’t you want them to do it, you let Saoirse do anything?”

“Because this isn’t Saoirse’s story.”

Against all precedent, the Queen, no, Meredtih Gwynsdottir, stood up to hug Julianus. When they told her they could add, at the end, a list of all the names from the tribe that she remembered or could be recorded, she hugged them tighter. 

Eight months later The Tales and History of the Laochra People of the Snowcap Mountains was a printed book.

* * *

The Laochra believe that the stories of the world and the people who live in it are sustained by the Collector (Bailitheoir) and the Storyteller (Seanchaidhe). The former is believed to live at the end of the world, where it is always dark, except for the aurora borealis. The latter is unknown in origin, many accounts believe it is the veneration of the first person to record the Laochran language, others believe it is the conceptualisation and deification of the base concept that unifies them as people: that each member of the tribe is a collection of memories. That is to say that each person doesn’t just have a story, but the person is their story.

Be it as it may, as it will be discussed aplenty in the respective chapters, the Laochra believe that the Seanchaidhe records the stories that the Bailitheoir, darkness of the world and reaper of the dusk of the souls of their people —that is why they send them South on boats when they die— tries to communicate with the Storyteller, who guards and writes the lives of the Laochra on the stars in the sky.

Words have a capital importance for the Laochran culture and religion, with everyone’s First and Last words being recorded by the rest of the tribe...

This wasn’t the first time Meredith had watched Saoirse dip their feet in the ice-cold water at the end of the world. They stayed behind this time, out of the water, knowing that in their silence, their Quartermaster knew she was there. 

“Julie believes I might have been, or supposed to be, the one you call ‘Bailitheoir ’.”

“What?”

“I think I remember. I remember… I remember Death.”

“Saoirse, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I believe humans call them Death Itself, I didn’t need to call them.”

The atmosphere shifted as Meredith watched Saoirse’s human-like guise blur in real time. The heavier it felt, the brighter the aurora borealis lit up. 

Saoirse’s voice was almost distorted. Almost. “You could meet them, but you’d have to go to Vesuvia to do that, and you hate Vesuvia. 

Before Meredith could ask why would she want to meet Death or whoever it was Saoirse was talking about, whatever vast and incomprehensible thing that whomever Saoirse was talking about was, her Quartermaster spoke again:

“‘Seanchaidhe’ is an apt epithet, don’t you think?”

Saoirse made a sound that sounded like laughter, but Meredith thought it was something else. The lights in the southern night-sky lit up once more, then they dimmed again. Saoirse sighed. In a blink, the night was perfectly, eerily, abnormally still.

#the arcana #my writing #the janiverse #meredith #saoirse #jc sanlaurento #joirse #background theodith #dani's worldbuilding

[jwirecs-main]

heyyy :) just dropping by ur ask box to say that everything about your blog is so so cute! i'm totally in love with it. also i'm also a kpop fan in her 20s and a huge baby/teume (hyunsuk is my bias too!). recently been thinking of starting a new blog dedicated to kpop, but don't know really where to begin. i guess for starters, do you know where to find good themes similar to yours?

helloooo!! 

sorry for my oh so late reply to this..thank you for complimenting my blog first of all 

for theme wise, i usually look at @theme-hunter. for me personally i either look for a contained theme or like some sort of one/two row themes. 

if im looking for something more “kpop” theme related i usually look at @kconet. :))

#janiverses #askeu

[into-the-daniverse]

“Hope we find each other again,” had been the first thing Leon said to Anatole after they kissed for the first time, tucked away in some corner of a veranda at a party Leon had no use in remembering what it was for. All he could remember, all that he ever remembered, was what it felt like to kiss Anatole for the first time, and how good it felt. How right it felt, to kiss someone who had been a complete and total stranger to him barely a few hours before, the both of them knowing each other’s name and hardly anything else.

He didn’t even remember if he had meant it, but gods, he was so glad it came true. They had found each other again, and again, and again, and now Leon was convinced they would always be finding the other in new ways, and he would never grow tired of it.

A year ago today my lovely and amazing friend @sunrisenfool wrote this fic about Leon and Anatole meeting and we basically never stopped talking about them, giving birth to what we call the Janiverse, at least half a dozen AUs, and hundreds of messages yelling back and forth about these beautiful bastards.

It has been such an honor and a delight to have spent the past year knowing you and creating with you, and getting to share these two with you! I am grateful every day for your big, gorgeous brain and every OC and idea that has come from it, and that I have been able to experience it all. I love you!!! 

Of course, a huge thanks and warm hug to @hirodraga who agreed to do this commission for me!!! This has given me so many soft mushy feelings, I love it so much! 🥺💖

#the janiverse #commission art #leon #art of leon #aelius anatole #leonana #coincidence lovers #can you believe that's how they started #and now here we are #dont mind me crying #I just love them and love you and the world we have created together #and I do believe that I would be having a much harder time of it all without all of this #so thank you #the way I go back to re-read everything we've written about them on good days and bad days and they always make me smile

[vampiresuns]

Two poems I wrote from the perspective of my oc Julianus Sanlaurento, for @into-the-daniverse‘s Saoirse (Stanzas for the Free) and Captain Rodrigo (La canción del Capitán)

#my writing #the janiverse #joirse #captain rodrigo #jc sanlaurento #the arcana

[into-the-daniverse]

Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

Valjam of course!

Bless you, thank you 😭

Some child Valjam (both of them 17-ish years old) based on a conversation with @sunrisenfool and using a bit of their lore + as always OC Valeriy Radošević-Cassano

Send me a ship and a kiss from this list!

Technically, they were supposed to be studying. And Jamil swore they were going to... after he pulled Valeriy behind a shelf of books in the Palazzo library to sneak a kiss or two. Or three, or—

In his defense, it had been a few months since they had last seen each other, which felt like an eternity. And as much as he adored the tooth-achingly sweet letters they would send back and forth as Jamil traveled to the next place his mother sent him, they weren’t quite the same as seeing Val in person, or getting to hold him again. Or getting to admire just how much more attractive he had become in that time apart.

Jamil had changed a bit too, to be fair—his beard was finally growing in evenly and fully, (Camia had even stopped teasing him about trying to look grown up, which he took as a win) so he was taking total advantage of it. When he came back to Vesuvia, saw Val for the first time, and caught the hint of a blush on the other boy’s cheeks at seeing Jamil again, it made him grin, knowing that he was being desired just as he desired him.

Which was why, when all the adults had stepped away for the moment, and Camia had disappeared after Valeriy’s brother, Vlad, Jamil wasted no time in finding Val again and pulling him close. 

“I missed you,” he whispered between kisses, still nervous about being walked in on, even though they were definitely alone. He said it as if they hadn’t already been together the entire day, hadn’t been inseparable since the moment he walked through the door, but it felt like it would never be enough to him.

Val huffed, but didn’t stop kissing back, one hand buried in Jamil’s hair as the other stroked his beard. “This suits you, but if you give me a rash I will not forgive you.”

Pulling back slightly, Jamil pouted, his hands at Val’s sides. “We can stop if it bothers you—”

Valeriy cut him off with another kiss, a bit rougher than the last. “Don’t you dare stop.” When Jamil pressed his hands into his waist, holding him tightly, Val blushed, but only tugged at Jamil’s hair in retaliation. After a moment, he spoke again, though Jamil had to strain to hear him. “It was... quieter without you around. Which was strange.”

“Oh?” Jamil moved his attention to pressing kisses to Val’s jaw and neck, gentle, tickling kisses. “I would have thought you’d enjoy that, what with how your family is already,” he joked, “don’t need me adding to it.”

Grumbling, Val stepped back to hold Jamil’s face in his hands. “Stop that.”

“Kissing you?”

“No, acting like you think I don’t like having you around. I do.”

“Oh.” Oh. Jamil bit his lip, trying to look away, but Val’s grip wouldn’t let him, forcing their eyes to meet. “Okay.”

Val’s voice was just a bit softer when he spoke again, stroking Jamil’s cheeks once with his thumbs. “You can continue doing what you were before, though. If you want.”

Jamil nodded, not fully trusting his voice not to break in response to Val. He still forced out a small “I do,” before kissing him again, holding him tighter than before, as if he was afraid Val was going to slip away if he let go.

#50 kisses prompts #ask tag #borednschooled #valjam #jamil #consul valerius #the janiverse #technically #Jules if you see this I just thought about this being one of if not The last time they see each other before jamil runs away #and now I hurt #valeriy radosevic

[into-the-daniverse]

Thinking About You | Alec x Milenko

For @sunrisenfool​​ using the prompt 3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond from the 50 Kisses Prompts.

In which, Alec and Milenko cross a bridge together, and start on their own path after years of knowing each other.

Title: Thinking About You by Cody Fry 1.1k words

Alec had known Milenko Sisay Radošević-Tesfaye for a very long time, almost as long as she had known Asra, at least as long as she had known Anatole, two of her most precious friends. But maybe it was more accurate to say that for most of that time, she had only known of him.

He was Anatole’s cousin, Asra’s crush-turned-boyfriend-turned-ex, a man of words and water, and he was beautiful. (The entire Radošević-Cassano family had unfairly beautiful genes, she thought. Even including Valeriy.) Despite the dark palette of colors, he wore—it was just the one color, really, black—or perhaps because of it, Alec always felt herself drawn to him, eyes searching him out in a crowd.

They would often meet eyes and smile, maybe shake their heads at something Asra or Nana had said, a silent conversation that rarely went much further, a unique but distanced bond that they both shared. But Alec always wondered what would happen if the conversation went further, if the distance disappeared.

And in more recent months, she had begun to think about closing the distance between them by kissing him.

With the rest of their friends paired off—Jamil and Val had made up and gotten back together faster than Alec could blink, Leon was practically impossible to separate from Anatole, and even Camia and Amparo had started spending more time behind closed doors—that left Alec and Milenko to entertain themselves together. Which could have been a lot worse, all things considered.

In truth, she loved being around him. Alec delighted in finally, finally being able to know Milenko on her own. To listen to him play his mandolin, to go over poems and song lyrics with him, to pet Ursula between her ears while Ravah watched jealously from a safe distance as Milenko talked about everything and anything.

She would lie in her bed at the shop, or a guest room at the Palazzo if she had stayed over a bit too late to walk back and think over their conversations until the sun came up the next morning. Soon enough, she found herself asking after him more and more often, agreeing to go to events if he was going to be there. She would let the water run for a bath and stare into it, wondering what it was he saw, what the water would tell him, if she could ever hear it. Then her thoughts would turn to him joining her in the bath, and she would wave them away, cheeks flushed from more than the heat of the water.

Asra noticed first, and teased her for it, but she chose to ignore him as best as she could. Yes, no one knew better than he did what it was like to look at Milenko and feel your heart skip a beat, no, that didn’t mean she wanted to talk about it with him yet. Asra called her stubborn, and she would stick her tongue out at him like she did when they were younger.

But though she could ignore Asra’s teasing—for the most part—it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way she ached to cup Milenko’s face in her hands and kiss the daylights out of him. (And then some, but she would settle for taking one step at a time, at first.)

One evening, she was sitting by herself on a balcony at the Palazzo, tracing the constellations she knew with her finger when Milenko joined her. Sitting close in the quiet, cool air, they spoke about the stars for a moment before he asked her to dance.

They had danced before, they were both good at it, and Alec loved watching him as much as she liked being pressed up against him during a song, feeling his hand in hers or on her back, faces close together.

“There’s no music playing,” she said, a hint of a tease in her voice. Neither of them really needed music playing to dance, there was a rhythm that lived in their minds that they could follow along to, a drum that no one else could hear. She knew that from the first time they danced together, steps falling in line almost seamlessly, as if they had rehearsed it.

“It’s too bad one of us doesn’t sing for a living,” he replied, smiling at her.

She rolled her eyes, a grin spreading across her cheeks. As they stood, hands finding their places, she sang a song she had been working on, something softer and slower than they were used to.

It didn’t matter if it was unusual, they still danced around the balcony as if they had done it every day of their lives, and in a way, Alec supposed they had. Even before she felt like she could call him “Milan,” before he and Asra had gotten together, they had always been dancing around each other, when they were all much younger.

Maybe it was just the time they had spent together in the past that led to them being able to predict how the other would step next. Maybe it was something else. Alec wanted to know, but she didn’t want it to disrupt the spell.

Her voice caught in her throat when she let her eyes focus on Milenko again and saw that he was looking at her. Not just looking but seeing, eyes tracing her face like he was trying to commit it to memory, the way she would look at him. She felt exposed, heart beating loudly in her chest, but she didn’t mind it. She wanted him to see her.

The song ending, they both slowed to a stop, Milenko’s hands on Alec’s waist, her hands on his chest, fingers toying with the very open collar of his shirt almost unconsciously. They were both a little out of breath, Alec more so from singing, but neither of them moved away, instead leaning closer together. She couldn’t quite tear her gaze away from his warm eyes, how the moon and the stars made them glitter.

She could see in his eyes that he wanted to say something before his lips even moved.

“Alec—”

Shaking her head lightly, she cut him off. “Kiss me.”

He blinked once back at her, but before she could think to regret her demand, he kissed her. Soft at first, gentle, like he was also afraid of disrupting whatever spell was over them. But Alec wanted more, and she moved her hands over his chest to thread one through his hair, tugging lightly at his curls, other hand holding his shoulder to keep him close. He followed her lead, grip tightening around her, kissing her again and again until they had to break apart to breathe.

Resting their foreheads together, Alec felt giddy, warm laughter bubbling in her chest. Milenko laughed with her, and she kissed him again, finally feeling his face cupped in her hands like she had dreamed.

#the arcana #daniverse fic #daniverse oc #apprentice alec #Alec al saleh #milenko #milalec #the janiverse #50 kisses prompts

[vampiresuns]

Sending a bunch of keeses - pick and choose as you please lol

38 for Valjam, 27 for Milalec, 46 for Leonana, 50 for Joirse

Annnnnnd because I love them 34 for Vlad and Louisa 💖

Now that I've written them all I can do this:

38, Valjam | Over Here, Social Butterfly

27, Milalec | When Snow Melts 🍋

46, Leonana | On Loving The Consul Of Vesuvia

50, Joirse | Hands On Evidence For The Ever-Observing Quartermaster 🍋

34, Vlad & Louisa | The Life We Deserve

#kissing prompts #the janiverse #ty ily #my writing #valjam #milalec #coincidence lovers #joirse #vlad and louisa

[vampiresuns]

Hands On Evidence For The Ever-Observing Quartermaster | Saoirse x Sanlaurento

731 words. Requested by @into-the-daniverse​: Prompt 50.- A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck, for Saoirse and Julianus Sanlaurento. 

Not tagged as 🍋, but oral sex is very heavily suggested.

Kissing prompts - Open

They both liked wreaking havoc between each other in their own special ways. The difference lied on how it was more apparent when Saoirse took the lead, because their Julianus was human. A very receptive human. However, Saoirse was not immune to Julianus’ enticements, and had never been — an ever increasing high tide, they should’ve known where it all would lead.

Maybe Saoirse did know, but they were too busy observing, too busy playing a cacophony of things they noticed. All the apparent to anyone, the ones which only had meaning to them, and the ones only Saoirse themself could notice. Things like heart rates, or other likewise shifts; things like eyes as dark as Julianus’ overriding so many memories in Saoirse’s mind. 

If it meant getting lost in their storm-chaser, Saoirse didn’t mind getting lost in their mind as much. Though whatever Julianus was up to, required their full attention. 

Saoirse opened their mouth before Julie’s lips met theirs. Not going unnoticed, Julianus stopped a hair too fair from Saoirse’s lips, them feeling the ghost of their smile on theirs. Both of them knew Saoirse would undo that distance without effort, or that they could turn the tables with, also, no effort, but Saoirse didn’t want to. Saoirse was having fun. 

“Did you follow me here?” Saoirse said, amusement in their voice and their eyes on Jules’ lips. 

“Did you lead me here?” Was the cheeky reply they got.

It was a fair thing to question, and Saoirse said as much, but before the sentence was done, Julianus’ lips were on them — plump, soft, ever tended for, with that fuller bottom lip that was honey for the flies. The kiss was deep, but with pause, each of them savouring the moment. One, of having Saoirse, Saoirse, against a wall in a secluded corner of the ship. The other of the sensations that came with it. As Saoirse’s hands slid down Jules’ side and onto their bottom, they wondered if they should’ve kissed them sooner. 

But the Saoirse who met them would’ve never guessed any of this would happen. Change was a strange thing—

“I can hear you thinking from over here.”

“I’m observing.”

“Should I leave you to it, or should I give you more things to observe—?”

“Yes.”

Another smile ghosted over Saoirse’s lips but Julianus’ mouth did not return to them. Instead they moved to the corner of their mouth, to their cheek, to their jawline. There, they left a trail of kisses over it, one of them with a playful hint of teeth. As Julianus moved to Saoirse's neck, pressing their lips against it, they could feel Saoirse’s hands tighten around their clothes. They could still feel them thinking, very loudly, but they didn’t ask them to stop — it was Saoirse’s way to feel things; Julianus would be lying if they said this wasn’t the biggest confidence boost they’ll have in a while. 

Some kisses where just pressed lips against where Saoirse’s tendons or pulse point would be if they had one. Others had teeth, others had their mouth sucking against their neck and leaving a mark that only appeared because Saoirse wanted it there. They moved over to their shoulder line and their collarbone. Their hands began undoing Saoirse’s clothes as they pressed kisses against their skin; hands that trailed down against Saoirse’s side and stomach, until they stopped to toy with their waist band. 

Julianus pressed a kiss to the middle of their chest, where their heart would be if Saoirse needed one (they didn’t, not inside of them, not when Julianus existed). 

“You know, if you wanted to keep observing, all you need to do is flip a coin inside that head of yours and choose which would you like to see more, when I get on my knees,” they paused, their hands now on Saoirse’s hips, pressing them against the wall. “Because I don’t think I’m done having my way with you.”

When Saoirse made up their mind, they left a couple more kisses on their skin before getting on their knees. Pulling Saoirse’s pants down, they kept them pinned against the wall, thumbs rubbing circles against their hips. Once again, Saoirse was aware they could break Julianus’ grip very easily, but why would they? Why would they do it when it felt so good to have their mouth against them?

#my writing #the janiverse #saoirse #jc sanlaurento #lives collected and lives retold #is that their new tag? maybe #dani's ocs #the arcana #citrus #lemon implied #joirse #kissing prompts

[vampiresuns]

🍋 Foreigner’s God | Saoirse x Sanlaurento

⚡︎ FOREIGNER’S GOD ⚡︎

Written for day 5 of the @midsummer-masquerade​, using the prompts lingerie and voyeurism. In which Saoirse and their Julie find an empty ballroom. Alternatively: this is what happens when you wink at the void, and the void winks back. 1.7k words. Minors DNI

Saoirse, love of my life, belongs to @apprenticealec​.

CW: Monsterfucking.

You can read the rest of City of Delights here.

After they watched Jacqui leave with Rodrigo and someone else they didn’t know, Jules and Saoirse set off to do their own thing, exploring the party together. Saoirse would describe smells or sounds they picked up and then the two of them would decide on a way to go. Whenever a room called their attention, they’d see what they were up to and either join to do their own thing, or find another place to be.

Saoirse carried Julianus on their shoulder, making them taller than everyone else in the hallways and impossible to miss; it made more than one head turn to them, and more than once Saoirse turned their own head to press a kiss or a soft bite against their thigh. 

Halfway into the night, they stumbled into an empty ballroom. It was smaller than the Palace’s main one, much smaller. It seemed to them that it might have not been part of the event — while it didn’t look dusty, it certainly looked abandoned. 

Saoirse watched Julianus as they walked to the centre, quickly lighting the chandelier above them with magic. 

“What do you think this room was used for?”

Jules turned over themselves in circles, watching the patterns on the ceiling, taking in the general feeling of the room. It had some furniture under blankets —furniture Saoirse was inspecting— but it was mostly just an empty dance floor and a wall full of mirrors, probably to make the room seem bigger than what it was.

“I’m not sure,” Saoirse said, coming to stand behind Jules, their arms over their shoulders, “the furniture were not very indicative of anything other than a ballroom.”

Jules sighed, leaning against Saoirse. “I wish there had been dancing, I love dancing.”

“I don’t think a Palace’s concept of dancing and your concept of dancing are the same.”

“That’s not the point. Ballroom dances can be fun, and if Vesuvians are one thing, it’s unhinged.” 

Saoirse turned them around, placing their hand on their ribs and taking the other one. They danced on deck all the time, to the folk songs of the crew, sometimes to fancier tunes or diverting music someone played. They didn’t see why they couldn’t dance now, and they told Julie as much. Julianus would never say no to dancing with Saoirse. It didn’t matter if there wasn’t any music. They moved together with ease, lost to each other, in their own private party within another one.

Eventually, Saoirse lifted Jules, and they took the opportunity to kiss the quartermaster. They didn’t go back to dancing: instead, Jules wrapped their legs around Saoirse’s waist, Saoirse holding them by the thighs, and taking full advantage of their inability to get tired.

When they first got together, Saoirse was worried they’d find dating someone, and engaging in any kind of physical intimacy on the daily, would get repetitive. Not that they would really affect them, but at the same time, they didn’t want to unnecessarily hurt Julianus’ feelings. Human feelings might seem like a blink within the vastness of time to them, but they still were part of the crew, and looked like they could at least be good friends. 

Saoirse had been mistaken. Their interest in it only grew, and they guessed it was on them for underestimating Julianus. Or rather, that humanity was less predictable than most beings like them thought. Still, Saoirse felt they had to give some credit to their thunderlike lover — so incredibly human, so alike humans, and yet so unlike anyone they had ever met. 

All aspects of humanity interested Saoirse, but before their Julie, there was some detachment to them still. At least in this regard. Not any more. It was hard to be detached when there was warmth between their thighs and they kissed them like a storm in open waters. 

“Here, I want you here. Our room doesn’t have this many mirrors, does it?”

“Oh?” 

“What? You don’t think I’ve noticed you like to watch, Saoirse?” 

Saoirse kissed them, their hands running up their corselette dress as they gently put Jules back on the floor, with perfectly controlled strength. “I have a very clever love, don’t I?”

“Your clever love has another an idea, too.” 

Saoirse raised an eyebrow at Jules, who beckoned them to lean down until they spoke against the shell of their ear. 

“Fuck me like you did in Ethari.” 

It didn’t take long for Jules to feel Saoirse shift. Saoirse was there, they could feel it, a tendril of their physical form still — kissing their neck and sinking their fingers into them. Yet, Saoirse was also everywhere in the room. 

Saoirse outside of the form they chose to inhabit was incomprehensible. The best way the crew of the Ruby had to describe it was “a void with eyes”. Most of the time, them and other people registered that form, that entity that had existed for as long as time itself, perhaps longer, by what could be felt as a presence. 

Sometimes, when Saoirse looked at people, they couldn’t help but to feel like something was just off enough, suddenly invaded by a feeling of existential dread that came out of nowhere. Others, if they stood too close to you, people could feel a smothering presence, an aura of sorts that made them feel small, very, very small. 

There were other times where people truly tested Saoirse, and while it didn't completely shake their physicality, it became less tethered, the entire atmosphere changing. 

However, it was hard to explain Saoirse in the same way it was hard to explain what people felt when they realised they were completely alone in the middle of a mountain range, or the forest, or the sea. It was hard to explain in the way surviving a near death experience was. It was hard to explain like all those things the poets spoke of as “sublime” were. You felt it or you didn’t. Julianus loved that feeling.

Jacqui had once said that it took a special kind of someone to take the existential dread Saoirse could induce simply by existing to bed. 

As soon as Saoirse became more eldritch being than person, they could feel Saoirse everywhere. Moving against their neck, their ‘kisses’ like soft velvet on their neck. They could feel Saoirse against their skin, pinning them into place in the middle of the empty ballroom, kneeled on the floor with their legs spread, their outfit riddled up, one strap falling down.

They could feel Saoirse against their mouth — just as if they were kissing it, just as if they were pushing their fingers into it for them to suck. They could feel Saoirse behind them, they could feel them underneath them, they could feel them in front of them, and they could feel them inside them. 

They felt everything at the same time, watching themselves in the mirror as they made eye contact with Saoirse’s clear eyes, the one thing that remained. Julianus lips were parted, and they could see the building pleasure on their face, just like they could feel it on the small of their back, or between their legs. 

Saoirse moved, and they felt more inside them than before. 

“I didn’t know you liked getting cock-warmed.” 

“I like doing most things with you,” Saoirse said, their voice coming everywhere in the room.

“Why don’t you do them to me?” 

They could feel Saoirse smirk. They undid their corselette, leaving Julianus half undressed as they focused on their chest. The way Saoirse felt from behind made them tumble forward, having to keep themselves up with their arms.

Jules could feel Saoirse running up and down their thighs,before pushing into them. Saoirse felt undulating, harder than a tongue but less dense than a hard  dick, as they moved in and out of them. They could also feel Saoirse against their clit, like if they were sitting on their face, while they still felt like Saoirse was fucking them. 

Because they were. With this form, Saoirse was less constrained, less obligated to do more or less one thing at a time. Like this, Saoirse could do them all, building up and slowing down so they could watch their Julie come apart. 

If Julianus concentrated enough they could hear Saoirse instructing them, telling them what to do for them, like opening their mouth to put it on them, or accommodating the angle so Saoirse could fuck them, or touch them this or that way. 

It felt like being fucked like multiple people at once, but it was all Saoirse. 

They told them to change positions, asking them to lie back on the floor with their legs spread for them, and to prop themselves up so they could also watch themselves getting fucked, as that familiar prickling sensation of Saoirse’s presence left goosebumps on their skin. 

In the mirror, they could see their own slickness; they could see themselves opening up to take Saoirse, and their eyes fixed on them. They looked a little like a mess, but who wouldn’t when you could feel everything at once? 

“Saoirse, I need to come.”

They felt the void shift, almost like Saoirse was pouting. “But I’m having fun watching you.”

“I didn’t say we had to stop.”

It didn’t take them long to come after it, their voice echoing in the walls of the mostly empty ballroom. Saoirse slowed down only a little as they rode their orgasm, though it was hard to say Saoirse could slow down. It was more of a flash of their presence being less overwhelming before it began building up again. 

Julianus’ skin was warm, their legs twitching, and soon enough they began fully feeling Saoirse again. 

“Are you alright, mo ghrá?” They asked, the tenderness in their voice making Jules feel even hotter. 

“Yes, yes, just don’t stop, mo ghrá— don’t stop.”

Saoirse’s eager smile was a shiver against their skin.

#the arcana #the arcana lemon #my writing #vesuviaafterdark #city of delights #the janiverse #jc sanlaurento #saoirse #jc said 'i am god's favourite prince' #they did it lads they fucked the void #they have been doing that for a while tho but you get me #also i know its on hiatus but i'm kinda spoiling secrets of an ancient moon lmao #joirse

[into-the-daniverse]

Take Me Home | Camia x Amparo

For @sunrisenfool​​ using the prompt 5. Throwing their arms around the other person’s neck, hugging them close before kissing them passionately on the lips from the 50 Kisses Prompts.

In which, after an emergency trip to Venterre, Camia finds herself missing Vesuvia, but more importantly, Amparo.

Title: Take Me Home by The Staves 1.5k words

When she was younger, Camia hated Vesuvia. Hated the memories she had of it; the people she knew lived there. She thought she would never go back, at least as long as she could help it. But Vesuvia itself had other plans for her.

Her family, the one she had chosen, loved Vesuvia. Alec’s face would always light up when she was younger and Jamil announced Vesuvia as their next stop, and eventually, she asked to stay. Jamil too, enjoyed visiting Vesuvia, as much as he tolerated Lucio, he would have traveled anywhere to visit his Valeriy. Even Leon warmed up to the city after a long while, shaking off their own fears and distrust of people and cities to go back to it voluntarily. But Camia never quite felt the same.

Until she fell in love. Twice. And then Vesuvia became a city she enjoyed, a city she could walk freely without fear of her past, where she could be her own person.

As Camia crossed the Zephyr Bay, watching the city come clearly into view, she thought about how nervous she had been the first time she left Venterre with Jamil to visit Vesuvia. How terrified she had been that she wouldn’t be able to leave.

It was funny now, she thought, that she almost didn’t want to leave ever again. That she had felt homesick for the city while in Venterre for the week. Well, it was the city, her family, and Amparo that she had missed. Mostly Amparo.

The only reason she had left Vesuvia was to visit Jamil’s uncle, Feliciano, as he was getting older and had been fighting illnesses off and on for a few years. When Jamil had received a letter from his aunt Annalisa explaining that Feliciano was sick again, Jamil and Camia had packed up to visit him, afraid that they wouldn’t get many more chances.

Still, Camia might not have left in the first place, if Amparo hadn’t assured her that she would be fine. Camia couldn’t help the paranoia that came from leaving her behind, both her and Alec, to be fair, couldn’t help that some part of her was convinced she would come back, and they would be sick, hurt, or worse—and even the thought of that made her not want to go.

But Amparo had held her face in her hands and told her to go. That she, and Alec, would be fine. She was a little sad that Camia would be missing one of her performances, but as she said, there would always be another. Camia had kissed her goodbye with tears in her eyes but a smile on her face, and a promise to return as soon as she could.

And as luck, and Vesuvia itself would have it, she left Venterre earlier than intended. Feliciano had been overjoyed to see her and Jamil, though he spent most of the time insisting that he was fine, chastising his older sister for worrying them in the first place.

“You know how Lisa is, caro, she thinks I’m on my death bed!”

Jamil and Camia shared an amused look. Annalisa could be dramatic, but he had been sick for a while. And it was only D’Oria nature to be concerned about their family.

Nevertheless, they spent a few days by his side, reminiscing over the past, talking about their futures. Camia had brought her violin, her first one, the one he gave her, and played it for him. It was very old by now, and she had been a little nervous over traveling with it, but the way Feliciano grinned when he saw her pull it out was worth it.

She and Jamil played music for him, singing songs they had made up when they were younger, or that the D’Oria would sing for events, and even when Jamil left, visiting with Feliciano’s wife Elizabeth, Camia continued to play. Hours seemed to pass in moments, Feliciano singing in a rasping voice along with her, commenting on her playing, how talented she had always been.

“Are you happy, cara?” Feliciano asked, when she had finished playing for him. “You always seemed to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders, even when you were so small, but it seems that’s lifted somewhat. Are you happy?”

Camia paused, resting her violin in her lap. “Yes, Zio. I am.”

He smiled, reaching out to take her hand in his. She rubbed her thumb over his skin, wrinkled from years and years of hard work in the vineyards. Eyes sparkling with mischief, creased at the sides, he squeezed her hand. “I’m still waiting for you to have your own D’Oria wedding, you know. I won’t be able to rest until then.”

She laughed at that, feeling warm tears rise to her eyes. “Decorations and everything?”

“Decorations and everything.”

Camia left two days later, after saying quick hellos to a few other family members. Jamil decided to stay behind just a few days more, to speak with his grandfather. (Camia suspected he had his own plans for a wedding that he wanted to discuss with Eugenio.)

As the boat docked in Vesuvia, Camia suddenly remembered that it was the night of Amparo’s performance, and she might be able to see it after all. Not even taking the time to stop by the shop and drop off her traveling bag or violin case, Camia made her way through the streets that she now knew better than she thought she ever would to the Vesuvian Opera and Ballet, to Amparo.

She didn’t have the same thread of magic connecting them like Leon could do, but Camia still felt like there was something in her soul that pulled her to Amparo over the space between them. It was what allowed her to enter the theatre at the exact moment Amparo walked on the stage, miraculously not missing a note of her performance.

Camia supposed she was allowed a few good things in life, and this, watching Amparo sing in a full theatre, looking absolutely radiant and sounding heavenly, was one of them. She was alive, she was thriving, and she was beautiful, and Camia couldn’t take her eyes off of her. She had heard Amparo practice the song she was singing, but it didn’t quite compare to hearing it here, in the theatre, voice resonating around her.

The few days away had been enough for Camia to miss her terribly. She missed the sound of her laughter, the light in her eyes, and the feeling of her skin under Camia’s fingers. That paranoia of something going wrong while she was gone never completely left, but the homesickness was more persistent.

For a moment, when the spotlight seemed to shine brighter, Camia thought back to Feliciano’s request of giving her a D’Oria wedding before he did pass, and she could see it. She could see the decorations, hundreds of flowers hung all over the dining hall, see Jamil in the sword ceremony, and see Amparo there, next to her. It almost made Camia cry to imagine, a foreign kind of happiness that she never thought she would get to know. But she did know it, with Amparo.

Once the performance was over, Camia made her way backstage. At this point, the stage crew knew her well enough to let her back to Amparo’s dressing room and she went, still holding her traveling bag and violin case over her shoulder. She knocked on the door twice and waited to hear Amparo’s cheerful but distracted “come in” before entering.

Her dressing room was a bit of organized chaos, as she was still in the process of removing her outfit, but it made Camia feel at ease to be back in her space, only a few steps between them instead of miles. She shut the door behind her and watched Amparo’s face in the mirror as she finally looked up and met Camia’s eyes.

With a loud gasp Amparo stood and turned, facing Camia, a wide smile on her face. Before either of them had said anything, she ran to throw her arms around Camia, hugging her close.

“Ampi,” Camia started, but Amparo kissed her, and she was happy to kiss her back; it felt like her heart was full again.

When they finally pulled apart, they stayed close, Amparo’s arms still around Camia’s shoulders, Camia’s hands on Amparo’s hips.

“What are you doing back? Is everything alright? How was Feliciano?”

Camia laughed, rubbing small circles with her thumbs over Amparo’s hips. “He’s fine. Insisted we were making a big deal out of nothing, and I came back early. I was able to see your performance after all.”

“I did say there would be others, but still, I am glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad to be back.” Camia kissed her again, softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Amparo replied. “I need to finish getting changed but, perhaps in a minute, I think I need this more.”

As Camia held Amparo close to her chest, feeling their hearts beat together, pressing her lips to her forehead, she smiled, thinking back to Feliciano. Thought of a D’Oria wedding aside, she was happy. She felt like she was finally home, that most of the weight she had carried all of her life was gone.

She was in love, and she was happy.

#the arcana #daniverse fic #daniverse oc #camia #amparo cassano #ampamia #the janiverse #50 kisses prompts

[into-the-daniverse]

It’s a good day for commissions — just got this one back from @agnusatanae of Saoirse and @sunrisenfool Jules

Thank you so so much for this piece, I was so happy to work with you again! You’re amazing and I can’t recommend you enough!!! They both came out even better than I imagined 🥰🥰🥰

#the arcana #daniverse oc #commission art #art of saoirse #saoirse #jc sanlaurento #the janiverse #joirse #voidfriends #I love them a Normal amount #clearly

[vampiresuns]

🍋 Two Is A Crowd, Three Is A Party | Amparo x Rodrigo x Jacqui

Written or the @midsummer-masquerade​, Day 5, using the prompt ‘degradation’ and a little bit of ‘lingerie’, if you squint. In which Amparo has no patience for Rodrigo, and Jacqui gets to know her a little better. 1.9k words.

Posting this one day late, because it got too late yesterday.

Rodrigo and Jacqui belong to @apprenticealec​, my beloved. You can read the rest of City of Delights here.

CW: Light degradation, oral sex, anal fingering, penetration, spitroasting.

After she had ran into him after her opening performance, Rodrigo lost no time suggesting they found their own little corner to fuck. Amparo snorted inelegantly, an incredulous and amused look on her face, while Rodrigo called Jacqui over, who excused himself to the people he was talking to and began making their way towards Rodrigo and Amparo.

“What?” He said, annoyance palpable. 

“I do not fuck in little corners, I’m not you. I have a room, you inelegant thot. Oh, hi Jacqui, long time no see!”

Jacqui kissed her knuckles to say hello to her, congratulating her on her performance. 

“Why, thank you! You don’t suppose you’d like to join us, would you?”

She began running patterns over his chest with her finger, ignoring Rodrigo who complained about not being given attention. Jacqui swallowed as Amparo’s tone became sweeter. 

“You wouldn’t leave me all alone with him, would you?” 

“I’m right here.” 

Amparo rolled her eyes. “You’ll take what you’re given, and you know I don’t like brats, honey. A valid quest, just not my cup of tea. So are you going to keep complaining, or do you want me to suck your dick while Jacqui fucks me?” 

Rodrigo and her bickered almost the entire way to her room. Like Rodrigo she didn’t mind not wearing a mask, though when Jacqui asked, she shot him a witty: “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to ask personal questions here?” 

He was about to apologise when she smiled at him — she had a wide, beaming smile that was very charming. She explained her reasons with ease, the same presence and poise he remembered from the time Rodrigo insisted into a theatre to rob someone rich who had something he wanted. It was petty, but he was determined. Rodrigo never found it. Instead he found Amparo. 

Or rather, Amparo found him. 

He didn’t know much about her, other than what she did for a living and the fact she was a Cassano. In that way, he knew more of her family than he did of her; whether she knew or not she didn’t say. From what Jacqui remembered she was not very prone to explaining herself. Ever. 

He had no chance to take the room in, because the moment they were inside, Rodrigo was already on it. He had waited long enough for his standards, so he was already kissing Amparo, rough and fast and a lot. Amparo still made him wait a little, solely so she could give Jacqui some attention of her own, but she still was going straight to the point. As soon as she could, she handed Jacqui a bottle of oil, telling him to make her feel good. 

She began fingering while the three of them exchanged kisses and Amparo took both Jacqui’s and Rodrigo’s dicks in her hands, sandwiched between them. As soon as she was ready, she told Rodrigo to lie back, as she moved to get on her hands and knees between them — she leant against Jacqui first, her lips parting as his cock sunk into her ass slowly. Once she felt comfortable, she got fully on all fours. However, Rodrigo was kneeling back on his heels, talking some talk about doing what he wanted.

Jacqui couldn’t see Amparo but he could feel her roll her eyes. 

Before he agreed to get into this, Jacqui would’ve never thought the hottest part was going to be Amparo taking none of Rodrigo’s bullshit. First, he tried to pull her hair, which she didn’t like so she pinched his inner thigh very unpleasantly, picking at the soft skin there with her fingernails. Rodrigo whimpered, which he denied. Jacqui almost stopped moving but Amparo told him not to.

“Oh no, handsome, I think he’ll like it best if I chew him out while he doesn’t just see you fucking me, but also when he can hear it in my voice.” 

Lo and behold, she was correct. Every time Rodrigo got too cocky, or too comfortable running his mouth, Amparo pinched him. She never just pinched him too, for every thing, she had a witty turn of phra. Some were witty, some were meaner, but all of them bothered Rodrigo one way or another in a way that was both really arousing and really funny. 

At some point Rodrigo threatened to leave. Jacqui knew him enough to know he didn’t mean it. 

“Leave them, you know brat aren’t my thing.”

“I’m not a brat.”

“Oh, my mistake — you preferred ‘loser’, didn’t you? The door’s wide then, because I don’t fuck losers. I’m keeping Jacqui, though.”

“Nuh-huh you’re not.”

“Yes, yes I am.”

Amparo wasn’t even touching Rodrigo any more, and yet Jacqui didn’t miss how his cock twitched. Neither did Amparo, who sounded incredibly unimpressed. 

“Seriously?” She sighed, though with how Jacqui was fucking her, it sounded more like a moan. “Do you want your dick sucked or not, Drigo?”

To Jacqui’s surprise, Rodrigo gave in. Amparo told him to remember: no more hair grabbing, which he didn’t, and to not get too frisky — which he did anyway, gaining him more thigh pinches, but at this point, Jacqui suspected Rodrigo was into it. Still, Amparo didn’t stop sucking him off now. Instead she swayed between them, the wet moans coming from her against Rodrigo’s dick as Jacqui began pressing against her prostate. 

The longer he thrust into her, the more her hands gripped Rodrigo’s thighs. Proper grabs this time, not the retaliation pinches she was giving him before. Rodrigo came first, Amparo swallowing around him and then whipping her mouth with the back of her hand. It didn’t take him long to leave afterwards, Amparo patting his cheek and telling him to “not be too unbearable” around the party. 

Once they were alone, Amparo asked Jacqui if there was anything he wanted, her demeanour changing from contrary, to the same stuff her beaming smile was made of. Jacqui took it slower, spooning her as they fucked, changing the position. Amparo took his hand to her chest, and turned her head to share indulgent, deep kisses with him. 

She came before him, but Jacqui followed soon after, kissing her neck gently as they both caught their breaths, enjoying each other’s company. 

“Do you mind if—?”

“You get up?” She said, finishing her sentence for him. “Not at all! Let me move.”

She did so swiftly but stayed on the bed, stretching with a pleased whine and lying there for a while. She told him to feel free to take a bath if he wasn’t ready to leave yet, she didn’t mind if he wanted to wind down. As always, she didn’t elaborate if that was politeness or an educated, albeit correct, guess. Jacqui wanted to ask, but didn’t, settling for getting in the bath instead, enjoying the water and the flowers floating in it. 

He could hear Amparo move in the background, shuffling around as she hummed a song Jacqui couldn’t recognise. She was an odd woman, Jacqui determined once they were alone. Even in loneliness she carried a presence to her, something he couldn’t quite place. Pizzazz was the closest word for it. Yet, despite her fiery personality and charming frankness, Amparo was not a talker. The moment the extrovert (Rodrigo) was removed from the room, she felt no need to talk. If Jacqui was being honest with his own observations, she didn’t even do so when Rodrigo was with them. 

To his embarrassment, she caught him staring. Amparo smiled at him again. 

“I don’t bite unless you ask, or you earn it.”

“Like Rodrigo earned his pinches?”

She shrugged. “That depends entirely on you.”

She asked him if he minded if she joined him in the bath. He didn’t. Without prompting, she let him know he didn’t mind him watching — a good look was just as powerful a form of flirting than any other. She was now wearing a deep red robe that was completely sheer, and that was casted aside before she sunk into the bath, giving out a little sigh of pleasure with the temperature. 

Keeping her hair out of the way, she lied into the water as much as she could, her piercing green eyes closed, and a placid expression on her face. 

After a while, she spoke again. “You have questions.”

“Which I’m sure you won’t answer,” Jacqui said, amused. 

“Smart man… but I like you, you’ve always been the nice one. So ask if you want, I promise to at least answer one.”

If that was how it was going to be, then Jacqui better think his question thoroughly. After some moments of consideration, he fired away: “I remember, I remember from when we met you with Rodrigo that someone asked you about your family. I don’t think they noticed you never answered their question, because you sounded really excited to talk about how much you appreciate them, but Rodrigo asked you about your cousin on our way here and you simply didn’t answer. Do you never talk about them?”

Amparo sat up, turning to face Jacqui, her green eyes looking directly at him. They were dark green, like a very lush forest after the spring rains, and very, very piercing. 

“You were a scholar, weren’t you not?”

Jacqui froze. 

“As I suspected. You don’t resemble them, in the slightest, I wouldn’t let you near me if you did. You’re too good for them, clearly… but I can tell that you were,” her tone was heavy, almost sad. It didn’t sound like pity, Jacqui felt like she wouldn’t be the type, but it felt like something else he couldn’t tell. Jacqui didn’t even want to ask what it was.

“How can you—?”

“Do you really think the Valerian Cassano didn’t teach us how to spot you? Even before the Valperga joined us, the Scholars and my family have not gotten along.”

Jacqui had to admit she had a point. He knew this. 

“I assume you do not speak of them.”

“Your family cannot be anything like them—”

Amparo interrupted him in a snap. “Of course they’re not. The Scholars do not deserve to walk the same soil as my family, but that wasn’t why I said it. You don’t speak of them because it is safer, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So, what do you think Jacqui? I am very protective of my loved ones. I will not be one to bring harm to them.”

“Is all your family like this?” 

“Take a guess.”

Jacqui let out a snort, but he let the topic go, Amparo sinking back into the water and looking as if she had no intention to continue that line of talk. Eventually, Jacqui got up to leave the bath, but Amparo stopped him, peaking one eye open and smiling at him once again. 

“You know, if you’d like, I would not mind another round, if you’d like one too.” 

She paused to move towards him, the water moving around her with gentle sounds. She put her hand on Jacqui’s thigh, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. 

“I don’t have anywhere to be in a while, but the call is yours.” 

She began retreating, but Jacqui took her hand, softly pulling her back to him and kissing her. She immediately deepened the kiss; it had the same fire than before, but it lacked the rush — it was more like a constant flame, a steady movement. 

Naturally, Jacqui said yes.

#the arcana #the arcana lemon #minors dni #vesuviaafterdark #my writing #city of delights #midsummer masquerade #amparo cassano #captain rodrigo #loser boy i love you so #jacqui #the janiverse

[vampiresuns]

Over Here, Social Butterfly | Jamil x Valerius

Prompt 38.- Whispering “I love you” before a chaste, delicate kiss, requested by @into-the-daniverse, and when do I ever pass on an opportunity to write these two. 791 words.

Characters featured: Consul Valerius/Valeriy Radošević-Cassano, who is being a brat as per usual, and Jamil Parsa D’Oria (@into-the-daniverse)

Kissing prompts

Jamil had always been better at social functions than he himself was. Valeriy was good at public social functions as long as he treated them like a game, where different interactions earned him different points depending on his moods and disposition, as well as how much he considered said social function a waste of his time. Jamil, however, was naturally more outgoing than Val was; and nicer, that helped too; or better at entertaining small talk, and didn’t like to poke the embers of drama when he was starting to get dangerously bored. 

For years Valeriy had been self conscious about not having sufficient skills for the job he had been bestowed when Nono Iovanus died. It didn’t matter how much Cassiopeia opened up about her own struggles, it was hard for him not to feel self-conscious when he felt under-prepared. It was different now, for multiple reasons — both of the personal and the work-place kind, as Valeriy had discovered it was much more entertaining to hold social obligations he hadn’t come up with when he had no Consular responsibility attached. 

That hadn’t changed people talking drab at him, though. Not for the first, nor the last time, Val fought the urge to roll his eyes and wondered what would happen if he told the official he was talking to that he, personally, had no problem with him being here. Or his wife. 

Jamil locked eyes with him from the other side of the room just as Valeriy was about to give up, and do it anyway. Jamil raised his eyebrows at him, eyes lighting up as if he, Val, was the only thing worth paying attention in the room. Yet the look wasn’t just for flirting through the distance, and Val could tell. It was also a message, a reminder that he was seen: that Jamil knew what he had in mind and, as funny as it would be, it wouldn’t be kind to their host. So he shouldn’t. 

Valeriy gave the couple he was talking to a generic answer and raised an eyebrow back at Jamil. A challenge: so what if he didn’t do as Jamil suggested. The former Consul of Vesuvia watched his partner clear his throat, excuse himself to the people he was talking to and walk towards where he was. Val took a small drink out of his wine glass to prevent himself from the fluttering in his stomach that he got whenever Jamil looked at him, showing on his face. 

As soon as Jamil had Valeriy within his arm’s reach, he slid it across the middle of his back. This time, Val couldn’t help the blush on the apple of his cheeks. Jamil, ever the charming man, asked if he could please steal the “handsome Court Advisor here” for a moment or two, making sweet, generic apologies that made it hard to deny him much. 

Soon enough they were left to their own devices, in their own corner of the room. 

“Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes you are. Whatever you were going to tell that man, I’m sure it was very funny, but also not worth it.”

Valeriy hummed. To anyone who didn’t know him, he would seem almost uninterested, even annoyed. To Jamil, who did know him and knew how it looked when the person he was in private slipped through the (now more amiable) public persona he had, knew he was being flirted with. 

“I wouldn’t say it was completely useless. You pulled me out of that conversation, which was both dull as that man’s wit and useless as that director we saw last week, and it brought you back to me.”

Jamil laughed. “Aren’t you sweet when you want to be, huh?”

“Take that back, right now.”

Jamil laughed again, shaking his head. His lover’s joy was contagious, so Valeriy found himself smiling too. 

“Do you think anyone’s watching?”

“Maybe. They should mind their business.”

“Oh, I agree, because I’m going to kiss you.”

Jamil gently lifted Val’s chin with his knuckles when he composed himself, dropping his tone to a complicit whisper: “I love you.”

He pressed his lips against Valeriy’s only once, but that was enough. They both knew there would be plenty more as soon as they left, which, as far as Valeriy was concerned, was a moment that couldn’t come soon enough. As Jamil dropped his hand and stepped a little further away from him, not wanting to overwhelm him with public displays of affection, Valeriy hummed again. 

“You do know this will only make me want to be worse, don’t you?”

Jamil, once again, looked at him like he was the only person worth noticing in the room. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#the arcana #beautiful powerful and stubborn as a ram #jamil #valjam #my writing #kissing prompts #the janiverse

[into-the-daniverse]

About Dani

Picrew: Left, Right

Full Name: Daniella Phandoum

Nicknames: “Dani” by just about everyone, never “Dan” and never “Danielle”

Age: 26

Birthday: April 16th

Gender: Woman (?) she/her

Sexuality: Queer

Favorite Drink: Pink Moscato

Favorite Food: Shrimp and Salmon Hibachi

Favorite Flower: Hibiscus

Zodiac: Aries Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Libra Rising

Patron Arcana: Ace of Wands

Upright: Inspiration has struck. If you’ve been considering a new project, now is the time to start.

Reversed: You are waiting for inspiration, but none has struck. You may feel restless and impatient with your life.

Languages Spoken: Vesuvian, extremely basic understanding of Venterrean

Appearance:

Olive, warm toned skin leaning towards the lighter side

Hair is currently shoulder-length, dark brown, and wavy, but it changes very frequently

Curvy in an athletic sense

Dark, but not very thick eyebrows—the left is almost always raised slightly

Dark brown eyes

Two distinct beauty marks on her face, one on the left equidistant from side of the nose to lips, and one on the right next to the eye

There’s also a patch of vitiligo on the right side of her face, and right eyelashes are blonde

5’3”

Hobbies: Writing (specifically poetry or flash fiction), reading, embroidery, listening to and composing music, cooking

Magical Abilities: Specializes in Acoustomancy—the manipulation of sound

She can amplify, reduce, warp and “fix” sound

“Fix” as in, if a song is being sung/played off-key or off-tempo, she can adjust the sound to be “correct”—this doesn’t fix the instrument or change anything about the person singing, it’s more just for herself and anyone else around her to hear it correctly

Her magic is very centralized, and usually only works on one person, two or three at the absolute max—she couldn’t make the entire city deaf, for instance

But she can mute herself and dampen the sound around her she wants

This is helpful with frequent sensory overload as she can just turn off sound completely for herself or someone else if they need it

This is also helpful in making sure she doesn’t disturb her neighbors, as she does like to stay up late into the night playing music, she can cast a noise-reducing spell or complete silence spell where, outside of her apartment walls, no one can hear anything, even if her windows are open

LI: The entire Radošević-Cassano family No one currently

Shippable: Yes!

Personality/Trivia:

Born and bred Vesuvian, Dani has dreams of becoming a famous author but currently works as a PA to @sunrisenfool Anatole—just, don’t ask her too many specific questions about everything he does or her head will start to spin

Lives in a South End apartment with her two cats Jidge and Pyn who may or may not be familiars, she’s tried to figure it out for years

When she’s not working you can find her at performances around Goldgrave or in the Temple District—concerts, plays, etc. Or hanging around the palace trying to find some more magical pathways as she, Miriam, and Portia have made a competition out of finding the most obscure one

Can’t sit still, ever

Despite not being classically trained in any of them, she owns a large collection of instruments and has them all set up in a room of her apartment

Her apartment is filled with magical plants she got from a friend—magical as in they can survive without her help as she is very very bad with them

The apartment is also filled with pink salt lamps as the primary light source at night

Talks out loud to herself all the time, but you’d never know as she puts herself on mute essentially so no one else can hear her

Very good at multitasking, actually works better when there’s more to do

Loves to cook but ends up eating out more often as she doesn’t always have time to cook as intricately as she’d like

Not a klutz in normal circumstances but if there is a drop of water on the floor somehow she will find it and slip on it

You can find her playlist here and more references here.

#the arcana #daniverse oc #dani #Daniella Phandoum #the janiverse #if she looks like me idk what you’re talking about #this is a completely new and unique character design #be gay do crimes simp is her motto #for legal reasons this is a joke lmao #but seriously