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consul-valerius · 1 year

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Show Me What Normal is for You

Donna’s voice trailed off, their eyes widening as they spoke. They glanced up at Valerius, seeking some sort of validation, some sort of recognization. They silently hoped he would be normal; neither upset nor happy. Just… normal.

An evening of drinking and story-weaving leads Vesuvia's most dysfunctional polycule into a discussion of the divine (which leads to discussions of the past and perhaps the present too). However, not everyone involved is as intrigued when a certain Arcana is mentioned. It is up to Valerius to encourage his lover to open up to him in a way they haven't: to tell the full truth of their murky upbringing.

Rating: T for discussions of past abuse & darker themes

WC: 7,401 split between two chapters

Characters & Relationships: Valerius, Donna, Nadia (all in their own traid lol) & Sam and Lucio

Content warnings: discussions of past childhood abuse, discussions of attempted infanticide, childhood trauma, negative self talk/self thinking (most of this appears exclusively in the second chapter), casual discussions of death, mentioned parental death, and very casual daddy dom language because Sam and Lucio are there lmao

A/N: after years.... i have finally sat down and made Donna actually talk about their childhood/upbringing lmao this is a pretty personal fic for me for a variety of reasons, and it's one that I'm fairly proud of but also deeply insecure about all the same LOL again, very dialogue heavy and introspective; please heed all content warnings!

First chapter preview undercut, with links to both chapters there as well! if darker themes aren't your jam, you can just avoid the second chapter and know there's a lot of hurt but also a lot of gay comfort lmfao

Part One // Part Two

“What do you mean by that?” Nadia asked. Gods, it was becoming grating to Sam how endearing she was behaving.

“Well, let’s use the cards as an example. Anyone can read the cards. I know their assigned meanings, and if you paid me, I would do a card reading for you and may actually sell you on my sincerity. But that’s all it is: storytelling. I can twist any general reading to be specific toward you if you told me enough about yourself—that is why there are so many con artists when it comes to this. If you can tell a tale, you can read the cards.

Donna, however, actually can hear the Arcane and interpret their messages. That isn't exactly standard practice, and certainly not one I can do anymore.”

“Any more?” Lucio prodded, snuggling closer.

“I used to have… some connection to my patron, yes.” Sam paused to glance down at the hand Lucio was playing with; he seemed to be reflecting on what to say next. His shoulders straightened out before he sighed. “But she severed that tie long ago. It was my own doing, of course. The Arcana do not take kindly to those who break from their paths, and they especially do not enjoy feeling replaced by some mortal being.”

“Huh—"

“They can do that?” Nadia cut in, a sudden and uncommon anxiety now in her tone. “Break off a connection, that is.”

A bitter smile graced Sam’s features; he regarded Nadia up and down for a moment before nodding.

“In my case, yes. Though perhaps it was for the best; breaking that tie broke off all of my connection to the arcane realms. I am much better at judging and denying earthly temptations than I would be magical.”

“Magical temptations? Like what, fairy circles or what have you?” Valerius piped up again, his focus now squarely on Donna’s hair. He thankfully did not seem aware of Sam’s giggle at his question.

“Well, no, silly boy,” Sam sighed as Lucio snickered. “I mean much more divine intervention.”

“Do the Arcana… meddle in earthly affairs?” Nadia reclined further into her seat, getting more comfortable.

“Obviously they do,” Sam said, mirroring her posture. “The fact that they choose humans to take under their wing says enough. But most patrons know not to directly interfere with this world; many will only tend to their flock in dreams or drug-induced stupors; whenever the veil is at its most thin or what have you.”

“And you are implying there are those who do more, are you not?”

“Well, yes.”

“Do you know which ones specifically—“

“The Devil.”

All eyes quickly snapped down to Donna. Their head was down, their shoulders hunched, and their fingers dug into their knees. Nadia tilted her head as she pushed forward slightly in her seat, readying herself to dart to the floor if need be. It seemed as if Sam was going to do the same, but he was stopped by Lucio grabbing his hand with a bruising grip.

“The Devil…?” Valerius prodded, the only one not fully aware of the tone shift.

“The Devil represents an excess of indulgences,” Sam cut in, trying to keep his tone neutral while trying to focus his attention between Lucio and Donna. “Out of all of the arcana, it makes the most sense that He would be most interested in earthly affairs and getting entangled in them; to want more than the vast expanses of magical realms he can control is in line with what he represents. He is the one patron to meddle in the affairs of others, regardless of who their patron is, to a normally… detrimental effect.”

“Detrimental?” Nadia pushed, her own curiosity outweighing her concern momentarily.

Sam shot Donna a concerned look, his lips sealing into a thin line. They slowly lifted their head, the pink in their hair gone and back to its normal blue.

They only shrugged up at him, a small smile on their face.

“Well…” Sam finally continued, pulling Lucio closer to him by the waist. “In my life, and in the type of work I used to do, I’ve seen people get… desperate . Desperate for a variety of things: money, power, friends, family, the love those people can give to you—we traversed in dark places, and it can lead to ravenous desires. I was lucky to have not just been disconnected from the magical realms but to have a mentor who knew too well the horrors that lurk there.

Others do not. Even the faintest whispers of the divine can twist the noblest of people. And this world is often cruel and unforgiving: to be offered a lifeline, to be offered some notion of control, is sometimes far too captivating to ignore.”

“You’re speaking in riddles,” Valerius interjected, now annoyed. “Speak plainly.”

“The drunkard says to the master,” Sam finally laughed, though there was little joy there. Lucio and Donna had both, shockingly, fallen silent, neither quite looking at anything or anyone. “What I mean is that it is easy for The Devil to tempt and offer solutions . I once knew a woman—a good, strong woman, I might add—who lost her entire family to a group of highwaymen. A senseless tragedy that falls on many—she is not unique, and neither are the effects of grief. She sought out my mentor for guidance, but your fellow human can only do so much for you. She was desperate for answers and for justice, and this world marches to the beat of its own drum. It was just taking too damn long.

So who better to come in than The Devil himself? Or what she thought was him. In exchange for something trivial, he can give you a name, a place they live, and even their weaknesses. But even more than that—what of power, what of strength? If you are to face your family’s slayers, should you not be prepared to dish out justice? She made deal after deal behind our backs, each one more complicated, each price growing steeper and steeper. By the time I or anyone had noticed a change, it was far too late. The Devil’s chains are… unbreakable. And the damage they do is far more than anyone can help.”

A long, heavy silence filled up the space like a thick smog. Nadia averted her eyes entirely, lost in her own thoughts, unsure what question to ask next. Valerius sat up straighter, his hands still petting through Donna’s hair. He could not see their expression from where he was sitting. He could only see how Lucio glanced back to the doorway as if he was worried someone was there. Valerius couldn’t help but think the same thing.

“But why go through that only to be… well.. ruined?” He asked without thinking. Sam only smiled sadly at him.

“You are so lucky, my dear boy, to have never been in want of anything.” Sam patted Lucio’s hip as he spoke, soothing him absently as he regarded Valerius. “And I hope you never experience it—truly, I do. Anyone may fall victim to this—it is our nature, after all, to seek out temptations with no regard for ourselves or others. That is the essence of the card; it is neither good nor evil: The Devil just exists as a paradigm of our makeup. He cannot help himself to crave more from this world, and we, in turn, cannot help but be tempted by him. It is up to the person on what they choose to do or not do, on the vile acts they may commit, and on giving up everything to gain their single want. Had I any line of communication left, I am not so sure I would be here—“

“ Gods , this is grim!”

#bottom writes #the arcana #the arcana (game)#fan apprentice donna #consul valerius #nadia satrivana #count lucio #the duke #bottom ??? with a streak of serious non-sexy fics ??? its more likely than you think lmfao #i know smut is more fun but i got thoughts and feelings to expel first lmfao

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nvvermore · 1 year

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Like Never Before

A lonesome apprentice is taken under the wing of a kind witch

[takes place after songbird vs rattlesnake]

words: 3.5k

cw: implications of abuse, descriptions of burns/cuts

accompaniment

Vesuvia is overwhelming.

After what happened with Veronique, they decided they would run. It took a few weeks of planning, but they did it. Ran as far away as they possibly could.

They have nowhere to go, no one to turn to here. There’s dozens of other orphans on the streets, fighting for all the same resources, while people dressed in finery pass them all by without a second thought. Bustling markets, guards patrolling the streets, gatherings in the square, rowdy taverns, a brutal coliseum.

It’s nothing like the dull, monotonous happenings in Chevaisé.

It’s already been a week, and they've spent most of the time hunkered down in various inconspicuous corners, listening—and learning— as the Vesuvians around them openly air their improprieties. There’s some rotten men here, and if they close their eyes it almost feels like they're right back home.

They only chose Vesuvia on a whim, the furthest place they could think of where they still knew the language. But even if the people here were just as evil as in Chevaisé, at least here there was no one to control their every move, every breath.

They had to be at least a little thankful for this city. Without it, they would have never been able to escape the gilded cage they were born into.

It doesn't take long for them to figure out that the only way for them to make it here is to fall back on their old tricks. They pick a spot near the marketplace with heavy foot traffic and summon up a song, every note a spell of persuasion.

They aren't necessarily out to con anyone, they at least wanted to pretend they had some newfound dignity in this city. It was just meant to give a little push to any passersby who just so happened to get caught up in their tune.

Starting from the ground up was a little daunting, even if their effortless street performances didn’t give off that impression. They had figured out a reasonable enough pattern— sing on busy corners, get tips, find somewhere to eat and sleep, then do it all over again the next day. Just about everyone who passes by is compelled to leave them a tip for their talents, some more generous than others.

Overall, they still prefer this to being trapped under the vicomte’s thumb.

But, today seems to not be turning out as fruitful as yesterday.

They've only just begun to conjure up a song when out of nowhere they’re grabbed by the arm and pulled around the corner into the nearby alley way.

Their instincts kick in and they’re ready to fight their way out of whatever this is, but a woman’s firm voice snaps them out of it.

“Child, do you have any idea what you've been messing with?” The voice scolds, with a heavy accent unlike any they've heard in the city so far. They have to look down to make eye contact with her. Kind— but stern— hazel eyes stare back up at them, waiting for a response.

“I don't know what you’re talking about,” they respond, unconcerned. Maybe there's some unspoken Vesuvian rule about street performing and they've secretly been offending all the locals. There’s no way this woman could know the secret meanings woven into their songs.

“Oh, I think you do. I've been casting spells longer than I'm sure you've even been alive.” She drops their arm, folding hers over her chest. “Nothing gets past this witch.”

In all the years they've been performing this way, no one has ever been the wiser.

But then again, they've never known anyone else with abilities even close to theirs.

They mimic her body language, turning their nose up at her from underneath their veil. “Well, perhaps this witch is none of your business.”

“You've made it my business, showing up out of nowhere, on my side of town, conning innocent working-class people.”

They give the woman a quick once-over. She’s dressed quite modestly, in a well-worn blouse and bodice, the colors faded from what they once were. Her hair is fading too, from a deep black into patches of gray, the strands woven into an intricate braid. The glasses upon her nose sit crooked, her boots muddied.

It's clear she's a woman who has worked her way through life.

“That wasn't my intention,” they confess. “I suppose I was trying to con people. But only the ones who have more than enough to spare.”

The woman laughs, the sound high and raspy. “You're on the wrong side of town for that, but I can appreciate your quick thinking.” Her demeanor switches then, from prepared to reprimand them like a mother would her child to something softer, accepting. “What’s your name, dear?”

They stare at her blankly, unsure of what to say. They hadn't planned on what to do if someone asked their identity, they didn't even know if they have one outside of Chevaisé. But they couldn't introduce themself as who they once were. They ran away from being the unfortunate one.

Their eyes shift to their surroundings, racking their mind for anything that might sound like a decent alias. No— not just an alias— they would be speaking themself into existence for the first time.

They land on the florist's stall across the way, the various flowers and greenery practically spilling from the small structure. But one set of blooms in particular manages to capture their attention, their crimson color standing out against all the others— prideful.

They turn back to the woman.

“It’s Amaryllis.”

-☽☼☾-

The woman’s name is Thana. She explains that she actually owns a magic and oddities shop a few blocks away, and insists that they— that Amaryllis— come with her. When she offers a hand, they take it, her grip radiating comfort.

And then they’re off, Thana leading them away from the only comfortable place they've found in this city so far.

Amaryllis keeps their eyes trained on the street before them as they walk, but their magic is focused on her in an attempt to pick up on whatever her motive might be.

“I was quite impressed by your performance, but your songs were much more subtle than whatever you're trying to pull now.” Thana speaks up, breaking Amaryllis out of their careful inspection of the woman. They feel a pang of irritation at being found out, for the second time in the last hour. Defensively, they straighten out, pulling their hand away.

“I’m at my strongest when I use music to cast. Reaching out with my aura is more difficult,” they admit with a pout.

“I wasn't trying to discourage you, dear. Your magic is quite the impressive feat.” Thana smiles, backing up her compliment. “I haven't seen proficiency in that manner of magic in many years or from very many magicians. Who was your teacher? I likely know them, there are only so many that are capable of weaving spells into song.”

“No one, actually.”

“You’re self taught? You’ve never had a teacher?” Thana sounds truly astonished, and Amaryllis wonders if around here it must be the standard for people to have magical mentors.

“I didn’t have the resources growing up. Magic isn't exactly a welcome concept where I’m from. I figured it out myself.”

“How long have you been in the city, dear?”

“A week,” they reply. “It’s been a long one.”

“All alone?” Thana asks, and Amaryllis nods. “Goodness child, how old are you?”

“I’ll be fifteen in a month or so.”

“And you don't have anywhere to stay, do you?” Another shake of the head. “This might seem a little impulsive, but if you end up finding the shop to your liking, perhaps you'd like to stay? I could use some help running the place, I have a spare room and lots of time to help you hone your skills.”

Amaryllis’s steps falter, and they can’t say anything, only stare at Thana for a few moments, trying to wrap their mind around her proposition.

“I— But you don’t know me? Surely there are better candidates here.” They feel foolish to be so hesitant in taking up such an offer. But frankly, they’re astounded, it seems an offer too good to be true to trust so blindly.

“Maybe, but I haven’t found them.” Thana shrugs her shoulders. “But you need a roof over your head and someone to keep an eye on you, and I need a protégé and some extra hands. It feels like fate to me.”

For another moment, all Amaryllis can offer is stunned silence.

“I— well. Alright, I suppose,” they agree, still quite skeptical. They don't like feeling as unprepared as they do right now. “As long as when you wake in the morning to find I’ve vanished, along with your most valuable possessions, you don’t blame me.” It’s simply a joke, a lame attempt to feel like they have even footing here. They're half expecting Thana to completely revoke her offer.

But then she laughs, sweet and loud and sounding like it belongs to someone much younger than she. “If that’s the case, then so be it, I am the one who insisted. But I doubt you’d do such a thing anyways.” Amaryllis wants to argue, tell her that she knows nothing about them, what they’ve done. But before they can say or do anything else, Thana wraps her arm around their shoulders and continues to usher Amaryllis away from the square.

“It’s this way to the shop. For now, let’s get you settled in, sound good?”

Amaryllis nods, letting the petite woman lead her away, a mix of conflicting emotions swirling around their mind.

-☽☼☾-

Magic was never something Amaryllis had ever set out to do. They barely remember discovering they were capable of it, never really realizing what it was they had been doing until years later. There was a point where they sought out tomes and other books to hone their skill, but with all the time they had to kill they quickly mastered the material and moved on. Magic wasn’t exactly accepted as a normal skill for one to have in Chevaisé. They kept the truth hidden until that secret was taken from them and extorted.

“So, explain this music to me, Amaryllis?” Thana requests, but it isn't like any Amaryllis had ever received before. It's casual, an inquiry that they're more than welcome to decline to answer. And if Amaryllis refused, the kindly witch would simply smile and move on. Thana was strange and confusing, the most intriguing part being how kind she was. Amaryllis had done nothing since she dragged them here besides use up all her hot water and eat more than their share of her food. Deep down, they've been expecting Thana to reveal the catch any minute now, feeling guilty to find the woman suspicious for no particular reason. But Amaryllis can't blame their gut feeling, as it was very biased. They simply aren't used to kind people.

“I’m not sure how to explain it,” Amaryllis answers, a little deadpan. They’d felt exhausted and a little detached since Thana brought them to the shop. They surmised it was from the sudden upheaval of the last week, and staying on their feet with no resources was more work than they thought. But Amaryllis doesn't understand why they're feeling this way.

They're far away from Chevaisé now. Away from the vicomte and the madame. Away from Veronique. Away from all the disgusting nobles they had no choice but to appease. Amaryllis would never have to see them again. And despite the things they've overheard in the city, Vesuvia was promising. Thana’s opinion of it was positive— big, bustling, and diverse. Her family immigrated here when she was young for all those reasons. And on top of it all, they’d been brought into the warm and caring refuge of Thana’s shop, her home. There was hardly anything to be upset about anymore.

“That’s alright, you don’t have to explain it if you don’t want to.” Thana smiles softly as she takes a sip from her teacup.

The master and her new apprentice sit at a table in the backroom of the shop. It's a cozy little room— the walls decorated in hand-embroidered tapestries and the area sectioned off by curtains dyed with rich, vibrant colors. There's a large section of shelves that hold what they can only imagine is every sort of magical artifact and book to exist. Candles littered around the room, casting every inch in a warm, calming glow. Thana’s familiar, Pandora, a fluffy black cat, naps away peacefully in the window. Thana had explained when they first sat down that this is the room where she practices divination, tarot cards, palm readings, tasseography, scrying— a sect of magic Amaryllis isn't at all familiar with.

“No, I mean–” Amaryllis truly has no idea how to explain it. “The best way to describe it is… as I'm composing the music, I concentrate my magic on what I want it to accomplish. I’ve been using my magic this way for a long time, it took me a while to even realize what I was doing,” Amaryllis explains, fidgeting with the silken tablecloth before them. “Music has been my only solace my entire life. I've always found it comforting to pour my goals and emotions into it.”

“And in turn, your music rewarded your love with quite the gift.” Dimples and laugh lines frame the radiant smile Thana gives them. Amaryllis isn't sure if anyone has ever looked upon them with so much genuine pride before. “What sorts of spells have you composed? What you were using in the square was very clever, even if I don't agree with its use around here.”

They feared Thana would ask this. Their most impressive compositions were all embedded with charms meant for much more serious manipulation. They don't want to lie, after everything she's given them, but they didn’t want her to know either.

“The spell from the square was a subtle version of the spells I’ve used in the past. It was meant to be more of a suggestion than anything. But I’ve worked with much more powerful charms before, on audiences even larger.”

“So you're something of an enchantress— or enchanter? Sorry, dear.”

Amaryllis smiles at Thana’s thoughtfulness. “Either is fine. But yes, I suppose that's the word for it.” Thana hums softly from across the table, curious, asking without asking. They don't have to tell her anything, but they’re surprised to find they want to. It's an unfamiliar feeling, one they’re hesitant to bask in. “Where I come from, I was surrounded by many unpleasant and cruel people. My compositions, and in turn my charms, kept me safe.”

Thana reaches across the table to give their hand a gentle squeeze, an unfamiliar gesture of comfort.

Amaryllis wonders if this is how a mother would have treated them, if they ever had gotten the chance to have one.

Thana breaks the lull in conversation.

“What do you say I give you a reading? You’ve never had one before, have you?” Amaryllis shakes their head, quietly intrigued. “Alright! Then this will be fun, I promise.” She sets aside their cups, and she pulls a deck of cards right out of thin air.

Thana shuffles the deck without even looking, cards effortlessly weaving through her ringed fingers with all the practice of someone who's done this for decades.

“Alright, I’d like you to keep a question in your mind, about anything. It doesn’t even have to have a possible answer. Keep it loose, and don’t worry, trust the cards.”

The only query Amaryllis can think of is ‘why?’

Amaryllis nods, and Thana gestures for them to select one out of three stacks of cards. They choose the middle stack, and Thana spreads the cards out across the table, in a crescent shape. They glide easily across the teal satin tablecloth, and the flickering of the candlelight makes the golden detailing stand out against the black cardstock like stars.

“Choose the three that call out to you,” she instructs.

Truthfully, Amaryllis has no idea what that even means, but they focus anyway, reaching out with their magic until they decide on three.

Thana does away with the rest of the cards, laying the remainder out face down between them.

She flips over the leftmost card first.

“Three of Cups, reversed,” Thana announces. She pauses, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath in. “In the past, you’ve felt as though you've indulged in frivolity while things were burning around you, and in turn isolated yourself, as punishment.”

Amaryllis feels their expression twist before they have time to stop it, but Thana continues on to the next card.

“The Fool, upright.” She smiles, but they don't understand the meaning behind her apparent joy. “Currently, you've been blessed with unlimited potential. There's much for you to learn, and it's up to you to seek that experience without chaining yourself to the past.”

They can accept those words better.

Thana moves on to the last card.

“The Star, reversed. Her message is harsh, but of the utmost importance. You're insecure, and it will be nothing but a detriment to you going forward. You must find something to believe in, and hold on to it tightly. At best, you will remain stagnant. At worst, you'll fall into depths too deep to manage.”

Amaryllis remains quiet, letting everything sink in. It all feels so hauntingly accurate, it’s jarring. They know next to nothing about this kind of magic, and unless Thana is just that good at reading them, it must be powerful.

“Nothing laid out here is set in stone, The Arcana’s words are meant simply as a guide to you. The Star told us what you needed to hear, even if it isn’t what you wanted.” Thana rises from the table, leaving the cards where they lie. She comes around and places her hands on Amaryllis’s shoulders, gently leading them away from the table and up the stairs. “I know it all must be a lot to take in, so let's have you rest, dear. It will be easier once you’ve slept on everything.”

-☽☼☾-

Amaryllis is always right.

Or, at least, that’s what they've come to believe.

It was something of a standard they held themself to— possibly more of a coping mechanism. But one that they needed to uphold nonetheless.

They had always breezed through every textbook, aced every test once the vicomte decided they were worthy of an education. Their limited magical studies never confused them, and they picked up every new skill with ease. It’s why Veronique hated them so much.

Overall, Amaryllis couldn’t recall a time where wrong or couldn't figure it out on the first try.

Until now.

“Fait chier!” Amaryllis shouts, slamming their hands down onto the countertop.

“Language.” Thana scolds, earning a side-eye from her frustrated apprentice.

“Thana, this is a disaster.”

“Amie, you need to relax. It will be a disaster if you get riled up.”

Thana decided Amaryllis’s first lesson would be on pyromancy.

They know all about it, and know it's a relatively simple magic, something absolute beginners were assigned.

But it had been almost an hour since they began, and Amaryllis hadn’t even managed to light a simple tea candle.

Perhaps Amaryllis couldn't do it now because of the one time they did manage it. Because for the last hour, all they’ve been able to focus on is that time. The stench of Veronique’s skin as it burnt away under their touch. The sound of her screams as she cursed the day they were born. The feel of their own blood rushing down their cheek, the pounding pain from the slash their own sister had inflicted there.

“Maybe we should just move on.” Amaryllis snaps, pushing themself away from the counter.

“And why is that?” Thana crosses her arms too, mimicking Amaryllis’s attitude-filled posture.

“We have a stove salamander, you have a grasp on basic magic, and even if there wasn't any of that, matches exist! It's not like I need to be able to do this,” they argue.

“You aren’t wrong, but you don't actually want to quit, do you?”

It isn't Amaryllis who's always right. It’s Thana.

“...No.”

“Good. Now take a deep breath, and try again.”

Amaryllis does as Thana instructs, taking a slow, deep breath, inhaling and exhaling. They turn back around to glare at the innocent candle on the counter. If things were going their way, their glare alone could have lit it and the entire shop on fire.

Amaryllis focuses on bringing the burning sensation of their anger into their fingertips. Another deep breath, eyes closed, the visual of a spark sprouting from their fingertip, setting the wick ablaze, the dripping of the wax.

They hold just like that for several moments, staying level headed for most of the time. But just when Amaryllis can feel their frustration beginning to creep back up, a delighted cheer erupts from Thana.

“See! Was that so terrible!” She laughs, and Amaryllis opens their eyes just in time to see the small flame they produced before it ultimately flickers back out. They frown, and Thana puts a reassuring hand on their shoulder. “I know it probably seems inconsequential to you, but that was amazing dear. You’ll only get better from here, I promise.”

Thana seems to realize the time, and shoos Amaryllis away from the counter before opening up the stove and effortlessly lighting it herself. Amaryllis says nothing, just pouts at the witch.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, I've been doing this for almost double the time you’ve been alive. There was a point I could do even less than you, you know.” Amaryllis softens at that, able to muster a small, but grateful smile. “Besides dear, you don’t have to be good at everything. You’ve already excelled at so much.”

“I’ve never been bad at anything before.” Amaryllis points out, and then cringes once they hear how it sounds. “I don’t mean to sound conceited, but it’s true.”

“How about looking at it this way, you aren’t bad at it, you’re just still learning.”

“Well, it’s never taken me this long to just learn something.”

Thana laughs, a loud, amused cackle. “You are too much, Amie. A little fire magic is nothing compared to what you can already do. What’s really so bad about never being able to pick it up? You said it yourself, we have the salamander, I’m here, matches exist. But you can calm people, entertain them, charm them. You’re not missing anything if you can’t light a candle a little faster than the average person.”

She moves around the kitchen, prepping for dinner. Amaryllis sits at the dining table, leaning onto it with their elbow. Pandora hops up, moseying over to Amaryllis for pets, and Thana gives her familiar an exasperated glance at Pandora’s rule bending.

“You know…” Thana trails off, making sure she has Amaryllis’s attention before continuing. “You also accomplished something else today too. You let yourself be frustrated, openly, in front of someone else. That’s important too, not just for magic.”

Amaryllis doesn’t know how to respond to that. “Um, I guess so.”

“I’m glad to see you becoming more and more comfortable here, dear.”

“I— me too, Thana. Thank you.”

“You can thank me by coming over here and washing these veggies.”

Surrounded by laughter and love, as they assist Thana in the kitchen, a mere month ago Amaryllis would have never believed that they could ever have anything like this.

#the arcana #amaryllis leroux #apprentice amaryllis #fan apprentice #the arcana apprentice #my fic #amie fic #I am hyperfocused on writing a bunch of precanon amie stuff but I have to do it in order so bear with me

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mushroomash · 2 years

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Welcome!

Welcome to my writing blog! I strictly write mlm and nblm parings. When I write and post enough fics I will create a master list and put them into catagories.

Requests are open and I will write just about anything within reason.

Here are some fandoms I write for: Supernatural Marvel Good Omens Stranger Things BatFam OHSHC Gravity Falls Death Note The Arcana Our Flag Means Death

#fanfic #fan fic blog #mlm #mlm fanfic #supernatural #marvel #good omens #stranger things #ohshc #death note #the arcana #gravity falls #our flag means death

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stellastarsworn · 2 years

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...

#Honestly with all the new Dorian shit about Arcana and fictif... I don't even know how to feel.#I don't want to leave these stories that helped me through really hard times in my life behind #I love the characters and the Fictif communtiy #especially Last Legacy #but I don't want to support Dorian.#I'm not happy with their approach of the fans writing endings #(although yes it was stated also that they're still thinking about how they want to end the non-finished stories #I still have some wips for fanfics on my computer and one ongoing fic already on Ao3 which I really want to finish.#But I really don't know if I want to post them now - on the one hand I ask myself if anyone would want to read it anyway #and on the other hand i don't want it to somehow end up in Dorians weird-fancontent-ending thing.#my textposts

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bakuliwrites · 2 years

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OT3 Challenge, Day 1, Part 2

Here's part two of yesterday's prompt! All prompts can be found here. All of my OT3 Challenge stories can be found here.

Day One, Part Two- First Meeting

So, at this point in Bakuli's timeline, she's already started working with Julian at his clinic and helping out with the search for a cure for the plague. She and Julian have also recently started seeing one another :) Someday, I will probably write out a full timeline of her life. I'll aim to have that up sometime within the next month with her backstory and family tree.

Meeting Lucio

Bakuli fidgets with the sleeves of her dress, staring anxiously around at the paintings lining the grand palace hallways. She feels thoroughly underdressed in her simple white and tawny outfit. When she passes a mirror, she pauses to fix her hair, pulling back a dark ringlet that's fallen out of its clip.

"You alright?" Julian's calming voice sounds beside her. Her hazel eyes meet his gray ones, and she frowns.

"Just a bit nervous," Bakuli admits, smoothing her hands along her skirt as if to iron out any wrinkles. She tries to smile at her companion, but knows it comes out more like an anxious grimace. Julian beams softly at her, pulling her close. He smells of coffee and leather, comforting and warm.

"Don't worry," he reassures, wrapping his arms around her, "He's all bark and no bite. Plus, if things go south, we can always grab some of the Golden Goose and sneak out to the fountain in the gardens. I think I spotted one when we were coming in."

Bakuli rolls her eyes and swats playfully at Julian's arm as he winks impishly at her. Though ridiculous, his offer does sound mighty tempting.

"Being entirely serious," Julian goes on, softly pressing his lips to hers, "You look lovely. There's nothing to fret about."

His tone is even as he says this, but Bakuli can feel his anxiety, too. His heart is pounding underneath his coat and his steady hands have the slightest quiver as he laces his fingers with hers. Bakuli hears the admiration and wonder in Julian's voice every time he speaks about the mighty Montag Morgasson. She knows he's just as fretful about reuniting with the Count as she is about meeting him for the first time. Plus, Lucio's garnered quite the reputation over the years. Bakuli's heard tell of patricide, temper-tantrums, coliseum fights, and unsavory dealings in magic. Though she's not inclined to believe just any rumor she hears, she recognizes the value in their warning.

And, by the looks of it, rumors of Lucio's grandiose sense of self are spot on. The palace halls are lined with painting-after-painting and statue-after-statue of the man, each one more gaudy than the last. They all depict Lucio on some battlefield, victorious over his enemies. Or sat atop thrones of gold and magnificent furs. As she and Julian are led towards the salon, Bakuli catches a glimpse of one portrait, hidden away in a study, and has to stifle a laugh.

"Ilya," she whispers harshly, trying desperately to hold in her laughter, but to no avail, "Don't look."

"Too late, I already saw it," he returns, voice strained from trying not to giggle. They dissolve into laughter, having to quickly rush past the rather well-endowed painting of Lucio draped over a bearskin rug. Even if the night is a disaster, at least they'll have paintings to make fun of when they get back to Julian's apartment.

As they draw nearer to the salon, Bakuli can hear a boisterous voice that she can only assume belongs to the Count. She feels Julian tense beside her.

"Don't worry, I'm here," she comforts, giving Julian's hand a small squeeze. He presses one final kiss to her temple before leading them both into the bustling salon. Nobles and physicians mill about the room, making small talk with one another; but, most are standing in a ring around the center, all eyes glued on someone in the middle.

Count Lucio stands there, wildly gesturing around as he animatedly describes some story from his youth about a muskbear. He's about thirty seconds away from spilling his champagne all over the carpet with his enthusiastic hand-gestures. He doesn't seem to notice his two newest guests entering the room.

Julian stands frozen beside Bakuli, the most shy and withdrawn she's ever seen him. His eyes are filled with that same awestruck look he always gets when he talks about his days tending to Montag, all those years ago. Bakuli wonders what it is about the man that Julian admires so much. He doesn't seem the type for Julian to get so attached to, especially given the rumors. But perhaps there's something more to this vain, ill-tempered mercenary-turned-royalty that Bakuli doesn't know about.

Her thoughts are interrupted when a booming voice cuts through the din of chatter.

"Julesy? Is that you???" Count Lucio exclaims, pushing through the crowd and bounding towards Julian and Bakuli. The Count pulls the doctor into a crushing hug. Bakuli watches with curiosity as the two men take a brief moment to catch up. They look one another over, comment on how they've each changed. Lucio ruffles Julian's hair and teases him about how he's still as skinny as he remembers. It's fascinating to watch them greet one another, picking up seemingly right where they left off. She wonders if that's how Julian feels, or if it feels like it's been a lifetime for him.

"Oh? And who's this enchanting creature you've brought with you?" Bakuli peripherally hears Lucio say to Julian before she realizes he's talking about her. Bakuli glances quickly at Julian before putting on her best smile and extending her hand for Lucio to shake.

"My name is Bakuli. Bakuli Björnsdottir. It's an honor to meet you, Count Lucio," she greets, opting to remain as formal as possible, not knowing what Count Lucio expects of her. Even if "Julesy" is his old friend. Something flashes in Lucio's silver irises, something curious and cold. Bakuli stores that flash in her mind for later, something she can pick at with Julian when they inevitably stop at the Rowdy Raven for drinks after all of this.

Lucio takes Bakuli's hand and presses a gentle kiss to the back. Bakuli can feel heat bloom across her cheeks as his gaze flits up to meet hers again. There's something hungry in his eyes as he looks between her and Julian, something covetous.

"Julesy, I had no idea you would bring along such a cute apprentice," Lucio winks, smiling devilishly before he takes them both by the arm, "C'mon. The two of you are my guests of honor tonight. You get to sit right beside me at dinner."

Julian leans back to catch Bakuli's eye. She knows they both look bewildered and probably a bit frightened. Who's to say where this night is going? It's barely just started and already things feel rather strange...

#the arcana #the arcana game #julian x oc #lucio x oc #julian x lucio #julian x lucio x oc #fan apprentice bakuli #fan apprentice #bakuli bjornsdottir #ot3 challenge #my writing #bakuli's ot3 stories #i did not realize how important eyes and gaze was to me until I started writing fan fic #like i'm obsessed with talking about people passing glances to one another #or having hidden emotion in their eyes #why #dani writes

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dreams-of-the-arcana · 1 year

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Valentines Day special!

Pairing: Damh Matheson x Helene Bellrose ( @xvi-the-tower ‘s)

Our First Valentine’s

Valentine’s Day had passed Damh by for most of his life. He never celebrated because he was either busy or just alone. This year would be different though, this year he planned to make the event extraordinary. Pale freckled hands covered Helene Bellerose’s eyes as Damh led her through his clinic and up to his apartment situated above.

“You know I can keep my own eyes closed?” Helene reminded him with a cheery laugh.

“Ah but it’s all about the experience, Hel. Just a little indulgence?”

She nodded, though she never planned to protest much. Her own romantic heart was actually thrilled with the anticipation. Each step brought them closer to whatever surprise he’d planned just for her.

“Okay,” he said as he pulled them to a halt. “Just scoot over a liiiiittle bit… right here. On the count of three.”

Helene’s heart raced. Wherever they were was filled with a symphony of smells.

“One.”

Damh slowly started to slide his hands from her face.

“Two.”

He held her hips instead and leaned close to her ear for the final word.

“Three.”

Her eyes opened slowly, savoring the moment.

“Oh!”

Color filled every inch of Damh’s small home by way of more flowers than Helene had ever seen in her life. Roses, daisies, tulips, sunflowers, etc. Everywhere she looked was a new delight to discover. Damh watched her take it all in with a smile, just seeing her happiness and wonder made it all worth it. He picked up a bunch of small delicate roses to hold close to her. The florist said they were La Belle roses.

“These are yours, Love. Or rather, they’ll be ours. None of these are cut, they’re all ready to plant.”

Helene turned in his arms with a brow raised.

“I was thinking,” he started and a small blush formed on his cheeks. “We could find a place of our own. I can convert this into a small in-patient wing for the clinic. Then we’d have plenty of space and it’d be somewhere we could… well we could belong there. No more hiding away or moving around in a panic. We’re safe here, both of us. There’d be some land for us to run during the full moon and all these flowers can fill a garden-“

Suddenly Helene cut him off.

“Yes! Yes yes yes!”

She threw her arms around him and kissed him.

“Yes! Let’s do it. Please. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“That’s why I did it. For you. You deserve it all and more.”

~ Bonus ~

Helene held him close for a while. Once they moved to pull apart though she spotted something strange.

“Damh, what’s that in the closet?”

He smiled even wider and ran over to throw open the closet door. Not that it’d been really closed as something poked out. A giant teddy bear suddenly popped out with a large bow tied around its neck. The sheer size reminded Helene of an actual grizzly bear.

“It’s for Sophie! What do you think?”

“… could you have found a bigger teddy bear…”

Damh’s smile faded a little as he looked at the bear again. He thought for a moment.

“You’re right,” he muttered. “I can find a bigger one.”

“Damh no!”

#fan apprentice #arcana oc #other people’s oc #Damh Matheson #Damh the Werewolf #Helene Bellerose #Damh x Helene #valentines day #valentines day fic

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insecateur · 8 months

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I'll be standing tall (La Maison-Dieu)

A 10 songs bilingual Sycamore/Lysandre playlist (in honor of Pokémon X&Y's 10th anniversary)

(Unfortunately, I don't use Spotify, so you'll have to make do with this YouTube playlist or look for the songs yourself. But do look under the read more for Lyrics Excerpts and all of that.)

Why a bilingual playlist? Well because I'm a bilingual guy, for a start, and because my experience with Pokémon X&Y in general and this ship in particular has always been bilingual as well (even trilingual, arguably.) I wanted to put together some of my favorite songs in English for them and introduce English-speaking fans to some of my favorite French songs for them, too. A lot of those songs are songs I've quoted, mentioned, or even used as inspiration for art and fic.

(Why is Augustine on the English side and Lysandre on the French side? Because I thought Lysandre would be offended at the idea of being on the English side while Augustine wouldn't care about it as much.)

SIDE A: ENGLISH

Sunburn by Muse

He burns like the sun And I can't look away And he'll burn our horizons Make no mistakes

This is the classic, quintessential PRFR song for me. Its only crime is that it's het, sung from the point of a view of a man singing about a woman. That pesky little detail cannot stop me, however.

Without You I'm Nothing by Placebo (feat David Bowie)

I'm unclean, a libertine And every time you vent your spleen I seem to lose the power of speech You're slipping slowly from my reach You grow me like an evergreen You've never seen the lonely me at all

Do I even need to say anything about this? I listen to this song when I need to make myself Suffer thinking about them. Oh to be unable to bring yourself to say something about your beloved friend's downward spiral...

Hardest of Hearts by Florence + the Machine

Darling heart, I loved you from the start But you'll never know what a fool I've been Darling heart, I loved you from the start But that's no excuse for the state I'm in

My friend sent me this song saying it was about them and they were RIGHT. Shout-out to my friend for that. I like how it can be alternating POV, too.

Changes by The Happy Fits

I try to run away but I find myself, again Stuck in the same place Who will I be today? I can't control the world or change it

This one was suggested by @jonphaedrus and I'm really happy I could have its contribution in here as well. This is very meaningful to me.

Celebrate by Metric

Even the darkest hour soon will be over My friend, it will be over

I couldn't not put a Metric song in there! It was tough finding the right one... But I thought putting a more optimistic spin would be nice, too. I actually associate this song with SLaWCS specifically as well, which is a nice touch.

SIDE B: FRENCH

Pâle Septembre by Camille

Mâle si tendre Au début de novembre Devint sourd aux avances de l'amour Mais quel mal me prit De m'éprendre de lui ?

Did you know? This song is the reason why I associate Lysandre with the Tower arcana. Or at least, it's what put the idea into my brain first. This one is also a quintessential PRFR song for me.

7 Vies by Kyo

La vue est magnifique Contemple-la tant que tu peux La lumière alcaline Le bien, l'ennemi du mieux Tant que le temps défile Tout doit se vivre à deux Je pratique le langage des signes Et celui du feu

I think I should be allowed to include some more vibes songs in there, although I'd argue this one fits them well. It's a bit abstract, but it fits.

Tout donner by Maître Gims

Tu es ma maladie Ma guérison quand tu l'décides Mes nuits s'illuminent J'en confonds le jour et la nuit

A desperate, self-destructive pining song... What else could a man want in this world. It's very tasty. I think about those lines way too often.

Aimer à mort by Louane

L'espoir qui joue, le feu, le froid Un souffle au cou, baiser de roi Pour nous reprendre, pour nous défendre Pour se comprendre chaque fois

Another intense but more optimistic one. I want to believe... I want them to believe as well...

Rouge Ardent by Axelle Red

As-tu trouvé, dans les feux, dans les flammes Ton idéal rouge ardent As-tu froid As-tu peur de l'aurore Tu disais "tout s'évapore" Tu as eu tort

It's a song about being in love with a failed idealist. And also the color red is there. What more can I say. (Also, this time it's originally a het song from the POV of a woman singing about a man, which ties it all neatly together, I think.)

Happy 10th anniversary to all my fellow shippers, young and old, new and ancient, whether you were in the trenches with me back in October 2013 on this webbed site or you joined us in 2021 with the Pokémon Masters revival, thank you for loving them always. Here's to loving them more and more in the future, and here's to the Pokémon X&Y remakes as they become clearer and clearer on the horizon. (And maybe we'll get a Legends game, too? Wouldn't that be something...)

#pokemon #pokemon xy #lysandre #professor sycamore #perfectworldshipping #samart

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aquagirl1978 · 10 months

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Cruel Summer - Vlad x Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

A/N: Part of the Summer Days Sultry Nights writing event I am co-hosting with @violettduchess . This fic was inspired by fanart of Vlad created by @ana-thedaydreamer of a shirtless Vlad at the beach - sorry, I couldn't find the link to the work but it is glorious!

Pairing: Vlad x Reader

Prompt: a walk on the beach & barefoot in the sand

Tags: fluff

You didn’t like summer.

Correction – you hated summer. The long days of summer meant spending time indoors counting down the days until cooler weather, avoiding the cruel heat and everything it brought, from sunburns to bug bites.

And despite all that, when Vlad had invited you to spend the day at the beach with him, you happily accepted.

Because going anywhere, doing anything was always better with Vlad.

You took a sip of strawberry lemonade, its ice cubes nearly melted in the heat, doing little to quench your thirst. Fanning yourself with your book, you soon realized there was no relief from the brutal summer heat, even under the shade of your large umbrella.

"Hey…" Vlad called out your name, his soft, sweet voice distracting you from your misery. "It's much cooler over here."

Shading your eyes with your hand, you looked out towards the shoreline where Vlad was standing, the water barely reaching his knees. He reached down and cupped his hands in the water, splashing some on his face. He stood back up, smiling at you with the sun high above him, droplets of water sparkling like diamonds on his skin.

You licked your lips as you gazed at Vlad, respectfully admiring his sculpted abs and chest. Your eyes drifted, shamefully lingering at the narrowing of his waist while thoughts danced through your head. Happy thoughts that caused heat to rise to your already warmed cheeks.

What made this summer day so cruel was that you couldn’t act on your thoughts. You couldn’t slip your hand under that thin band of fabric and touch Vlad. Feel him. And see if he was feeling the same exact way you were.

But the beach you were on was not secluded and actions like that had to wait until later. Much later.

You rose from your chair, your feet sinking into the soft sand, hoping your knees wouldn’t bend and go weak. The hot sand burned the bottom of your feet as you quickly made your way to Vlad.

“You’re right,” you said with a smile as you reached him. “It is cooler here.” The cool waves were refreshing as the water lapped against your ankles, the soft sand sliding between your toes as you looked up at your lover.

“Let’s go on a walk,” he suggested, taking your hand in his, the salty sea breeze mussing his pale hair.

Fun will have to wait for later, you told yourself as you walked away with Vlad, summer proving, once again, just how cruel she truly was.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @ikehoe @kpop-and-otome @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady @kisara-16 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @umi-adxhira @bellerose-arcana @crypticbibliophile @yarnnerdally @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @wendolrea @randonauticrap @aria-chikage

#summer days sultry nights ccc #ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #vlad #ikevamp vlad #ikemen vlad #ikemen fanfic #ikevamp fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

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blabbin · 1 year

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Disco Elysium Fandom Masterpost

Decided to compile all the cool projects fans have made for Disco Elysium! This includes game resources, fan games, and fun collaboration events!

If you want to be notified of any updates, you can click on 'subscribe to conversation' for this post!

If you've got any corrections/updates/suggestions, reach out to let me know! ((Last updated: January 29th, 2023))

Game Information/Archives/Resources

Disco Elysium Wiki (Literally contains most everything you'd want to know about the game, including a ton of image resources)

FAYDE On-Air by Morgue, Pieartsy, and Sphinx111 (Search engine tool to easily find any in-game dialogue)

Disco Reader by xyrilyn + Guide on how to use it (Search engine AND text visualization tool. You can see the full dialogue trees as flowcharts)

Disco Elysium Explorer by Leerion + Github (Inspired by Disco Reader. It works much the same way but it ALSO includes the audio clips for every piece of dialogue!! + the text for every language released so far)

Disco Elysium Checklist compiled by MentalPrinciple0 (Includes all red/white checks, their difficulty level, all possible modifiers, as well as items, tasks, thoughts, and their modifiers)

Complete OST + Ambient Mix compiled by OnlySheStandsHere (Includes everything added for The Final Cut)

High Quality Full Map of Martinaise compiled by For Lack Of A Title

Map of Revachol West vectorized by freezebobs + svg file

Disco Elysium: Country/Cultural Mappings compiled by Limey (List of all the geographical places named in-game, what we know about them, and what some real-world parallels are)

Disco Elysium: A Timeline compiled by six and brenn (A complete timeline of every event mentioned in the game, from the creation of the universe to the events of The Hanged Man case)

Theoretical Entroponetics by 57sfinest (Everything we know about The Pale + OP's own theory)

Fanworks

Fandom Collaboration Projects

((since these are big collaboration projects, I unfortunately can't properly list the credits on this post. Make sure to check out the respective credit pages of the projects!! So many talented peeps!!!))

Disco Elysium Fan Colouring Book (SFW)

Disco Elysium Fan Colouring Book (NSFW) [[18+]]

Social media tag: #EspritDeCouleur

Fire Escape in The Sea Montage-Disco Elysium

Social media tag: #FEITSmontage

Disco Elysium Montage/Cleaning Out The Rooms

Social media tag: #COTRmontage

Disco Elysium Secret Santa 2022

Ao3 Collection

Bonus Round! Prompt List is open for anyone to fill if something grabs your interest!

Social media tag: #DESecretSanta2022

Disco Elysium Rarepair Fanworks Exchange

Ao3 Collection

Prompt List! Open for anyone to fill if something grabs your interest!

((There's no tag, everything is compiled on the twitter account. If you post anything new, make sure to @ the account to be RTed!))

Disco Elysium Tarot, the Major Arcana

Social Media tag: #DiscoTarot

An art challenge to recreate famous paintings into something Disco Elysium themed! Feel free to join in!

Social media tag: #DiscoElysiumArtClassic

Fan Games

After the Mind, the World Again by Pieartsy (TTRPG)

Disco Elysium: Game Boy Edition by BloodyStapler

Disco Dating by Slugandthorn, Capreola, Frankie, and Joe/BerlinChild (Visual Novel)

The Cryptokiller, project lead Arthur Stahlschmidt (Visual Novel) ((Make sure to check the itch.io page for a full list of the team!!))

Mystery Miniaturist by Jasmine "Katy133" Osler (Visual Novel) ((Make sure to check the itch.io page for the full list of credits!!))

WE GOT A CODE 31 by Slugandthorn (Dancing Penguin Kim. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY!!)

Mini Mini Disco by OinkOink!Studio (a collection of mini-games! The links on the main page might be broken, so here they are just in case:

Nod match with Kim

Pretty Jean Jean

Beg Money)

Disco Elysium: Signature Skill Selection by FeigningIntelligence (Take this quiz and find out what your signature skill is!)

Twine Games/Fics

Re-Hearsed by Apepers

Requiem for the Apostle by Alphawave

Sweeter Kind of Fire [[18+]] by Kawa

Disco Elysium: Insomnia [[18+]] by mouseoverlord, Booboboobo, cyaber5, LoveSplean, and Aila

One Day in Jamrock [[18+]] by CeaserAmarelo

Fan Skins

((Want to write a fic/make a game that looks like Disco Elysium? These cool peeps got you covered!))

Disco Days Workskin by abyssalcaptain (Ao3)

Disco Elysium Workskin by Cunticuss (Ao3)

Disco Elysium Twine Macros by Apepers and Pieartsy (Twine)

Disco Elysium Framework for Ren'Py by Katy133 (Ren'Py)

Uberduck Voice AI for Kim Kitsuragi by emmash527 and justinjohn-03

Uberduck Voice AI for Cuno by TheTiagoFire

Disco-Narrator Voice AI which includes: Kim Kitsuragi, The Narrator, and Joyce Messier [[Unfortunately it's been down for a long time now]]

Character.AI (You can make your own characters pretty easily, and there's a bunch of ones for Disco Elysium, including Kim, Jean, Trant, and Cuno last I checked)

Misc.

Disco Elysium Mods

Disco Elysium Item Card Creator by ColorfulTie (fun lil tool to create your own items with stats in the style of the game)

Disco Elysium fan music by Aila :

Insomnia Vol 1

Rain in Revachol

#Disco Elysium #idk what else to tag this lol #Masterpost #Resource List #?#sure #blabbin

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motherofqups · 2 months

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Weights & Measures Chapter 27

You Should've Known That This Was Gonna End In Tears

#weights & measures #the iris oracle #the arcana game #fan fiction #fan fic #lucio morgasson #lucio route #lazuli keshet #iris keshet #lucio is here too

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 7 months

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Hi, sorry if this is a weird ask, ans you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. But I've been wanting to write Arcana fics for a while, do you have any tips? Thank you :)

Oh my goodness, I'm honored that you'd ask, anon!

Truth be told, in my case, it's come down to learning how to balance character analysis with personal interpretation and writing style:

For character analysis, I find that doing research and trying to stay fresh on canon content really helps! I usually do that by replaying routes, reading back through all the old ask arcana posts from when the devs were still on the project, and studying up on character profiles. (For example, when I want to do something a little more in depth that involves weaknesses or fears, reading up on their MBTI types to help inform how they process information and emotions.)

It can be really tricky to hold together a character's personality type with their lived experience (a common example I see is Asra's casual relational nature vs. their total commitment to MC) and sometimes it just comes down to what dynamics and moods you want to explore! (Do want some angst around a partner that's never where you're looking for them, or some fluff about a partner that's always there when you need them?)

That leads more into personal writing styles and character interpretations. In my case, I enjoy writing stuff that focuses around growth, healing, humor, fluff, and healthy hurt/comfort, and that's going to heavily influence how I write the characters. (For example, the extent to which Lucio changes as a person post-upright ending and his motives in doing that.) There's no such thing as a perfect person, which means you can stay completely canon to who a character is and still show them as a total green or red flag depending on the situation they're in and which instinct they choose to listen to when they respond. (Like Julian when he's upset - is he going to give you a dramatic monologue about it? Or self-destruct?)

In the end, the best part of being a fan author is that you can write whatever you want to! This is just what I've found personally helpful, so hopefully there's one or two suggestions in here that sparked interest. I also love getting to talk to new people and my DMs are always open so please feel free to reach out if you want to!!

Thanks again for the question, anon, I look forward to seeing what you write! ^.^

brainrot

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game

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consul-valerius · 11 months

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To Fuck Around is Human; To Find Out is Divine (1/4)

It just wasn’t fair ; it wasn’t fair that Sam always got what he wanted, and Valerius always ended up like this . And it wasn’t fair that he loved ending up like this—it just made Sam cheekier, more boastful. […]“Pretty soon you’re going to be thanking me, boy,” Sam whispered in a low growl. These next words were for Valerius and only Valerius. The attention alone had him on cloud nine—how pathetic . “You can cry and pout all you want—you and I both know how this story ends: with you begging daddy for more .”

Valerius attempts to dominate The Duke of Pearl Isles, which goes just as well as was expected. But with his spouse's help, can he for once turn the tables on him? Or will all three fall back into their usual roles?

Rating: 18+ minors DNI or I’m gonna eat your homework

WC: 5728 (im sorry…… my brain exploded)

Characters and relationships: Valerius, Sam, Lucio, brief DonDon, and two nameless OCs; primary Valerius/Sam but background Sam/Lucio and Valucio (and obvious ValDonna)

Content warnings: established Dom/Sub dynamics; non-consensual/dubiously-consensual spankings (did I just make up a word lol); punishments; light bondage; humiliation & degradation; daddy dom, Valerius’s canon foot fetish

A/N: its whack a doodle time. It is whack a doodle. Time. LOL I got my dick back in force and now I’m going to just dedicate time to doing self indulgent smut of these three LMFAO I can’t say there’s NO plot, but this is just a silly little blip in time for them that is vaguely post-game/whatever AU the tales take place in :’)

Preview undercut—full fic linked in the title✨

“Enlighten me, consul,” Sam was practically growling now, teasing a strand of Valerius’s bangs between two gloved fingers. “Seeing as you are suddenly the expert on discipline , what’s the proper way to teach a man like me some manners?”

Sam was clearly baiting him; everyone knew it, most of all Valerius. But he was giving him an out too: if he apologized, tail between his legs, Sam would let it all go. If it was really pretty, maybe he would even invite Valerius onto his lap next—he would have Valerius do something extra special to apologize.

On his lap next to Lucio—Lucio, whose eyes were glued to every move Valerius made, those eyes moving quickly to capture every breath, every small shudder. Valerius sucked in air through his nose, bracing himself to apologize. He wasn’t sure why he had looked to Lucio—normally he could turn to Donna for some visual reassurance.

Instead, Lucio quirked his brow at him, a wicked smile on his face as he tilted his chin up at Valerius.

You don’t have the balls.

“Well, obviously a spanking would be in order.”

Valerius tried not to jump at the ruckus he had caused. The two women tried to stifle their chuckles; Lucio chose to laugh and giggle openly, even so much as to kick his legs too. Sam’s eyes snapped to him for a moment before zeroing in on Valerius. Before Valerius could take the words back, Sam was laughing next, loud and hysterical.

“And just who would be able to do that to me, hm?”

This was bad. This was bad, and Valerius needed to stop.

“Oh, I can name quite a few I’ve seen firsthand tanning your hide—”

Sam was going to kill him. He was digging his own grave.

“My spouse, of course, being one of them.”

But how could he stop when Lucio looked so thrilled? Looked so impressed by him , not Sam, not even Nadia.

Sam’s eyes widened; it only made his forced smile all the scarier.

“Ah, I see ,” Sam chuckled, his voice too sweet. “Gonna run and tell on me like you always do? Gonna go tell mommy that daddy’s being a big ol’ meanie?”

Valerius felt his stomach drop, his face instantly igniting. Damn him . Damn him for saying that in front of those women—they would get the wrong idea, that he was really into all of that. Really, it was for Donna. And for Sam. And it made him happy to make them happy, it wasn’t that he was into it—

“Does it look like I’m running ? Are your eyes just as bad as your decorum?”

Sam sucked in a breath, practically hissing as he tilted his head down at Valerius. Valerius swallowed, his eyelashes fluttering.

“Oh? You gonna do it then, Valerius?” Sam took another step forward. Valerius took a step back. “You gonna put me in my place?”

Valerius felt like his brain was turning off, that he could will his soul from his body at this very moment. Lucio’s small giggle broke him out of his stupor.

“I could if I wanted to.”

“And you simply just never felt the urge? With how ill-mannered and barbaric I am, you’ve just always so happened to let me throw you over my knee?”

“I said if I wanted to—”

“Seems like you wana now.”

“Well, perhaps I do “wan-ah” —!”

“ Perfect!I”

#bottom writes #nsft #the arcana lemon #the arcana #consul valerius #the duke #Sam x Valerius #Lucio is there too but not enough to warrant a tag on here lol #lemon #Valerius x OC #fan apprentice donna #don’t worry they’re getting their time to really shine in the next chapters lmfao #photo doesn’t really relate to the fic but it captures the vibes like truly LMFAO

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nvvermore · 1 year

Text

I Always Will

for Amaryllis, nothing goes as planned

[part twelve of Come What May]

words: 3k

cw: memory loss

accompaniment

Last night, Amaryllis and Julian went their separate ways at the edge of the forest.

“We’ll start over fresh tomorrow, with the new information that we have,” Amaryllis’s voice cut through the pouring rain. “Let’s meet at Portia’s after breakfast. Au revoir.”

Amaryllis had lost track of the time they spent aimlessly wandering around the palace gardens, mind lost in thought.

How it could be so easy for Julian’s memory to return, but that they were in a constant fight to regain even just the smallest hint of theirs. After all he did, they still helped him, and he couldn't even be bothered to offer them anything in return.

Julian’s refusal at least confirmed one thing in their mind.

The two did in fact, mean something to each other before.

-☽☼☾-

Now, Amaryllis sits at Portia’s dining table, listening to Julian prattle on about his recovered memory.

That back then, when Lucio was infected, Julian was working diligently on a cure.

“I was down there that night, working, but Lucio was convinced I wasn't working fast enough. He locked me inside and I, well—“ In a flash, he pulls off his eyepatch to finally reveal his eye. It isn't just an empty socket, as he’d implied before. It’s all there, and even appears to have vision, but the sclera of it is a deep red, just like that of the victims of the plague. “I was dying. But the cure worked, and it could still be down there in that dungeon.”

From his coat pocket, he pulls out the skeleton key, and a folded up paper. “I thought long and hard last night, and this is what helped me make sense of it all,” Julian says, gazing down solemnly at the paper. They recognize it as the one that fell from the pages of the grimoire hidden away in their room.

“Then perhaps if you'd have let me read my own writings, we could have come to this conclusion sooner,” Amaryllis says. From the corner of their eye, they can see Portia give them a pointed look.

“Well, it sounds like you two need to go down to that dungeon.” Portia diverts back to the real subject at hand. “We’re running out of time, with how close the masquerade is. Luckly, the countess will be quite distracted today, as some of her sisters are arriving from Praka. So you have the perfect opportunity to go searching.”

Amaryllis glances over to Julian, expecting to see him putting on his classic brave façade, but instead finds him already looking back at them, uncertainty casting a cloud over his features.

“Then by all means, Julian, lead the way.”

“But first!” Portia interjects. “Ilya, you need a good disguise! I have some spare staff uniforms I snagged for the occasion. You can play the part, can’t you?”

“I suppose that could work,” Julian murmurs, mind obviously still somewhere else.

“Actually, I have a different idea. I'd rather not have any missteps, so I’ll use another glamour spell on you.”

“The same one as before?”

“No. This one will be much different.”

Amaryllis murmurs a quick incantation, and in moments before everyone's eyes he turns from a towering, lanky man, into a petite young girl.

“Oh my, Ilya look at you! How cute!” Portia squeals. “Amie, who is he supposed to be? She’s a beauty, for sure.”

“My ward, Ophélie. Julian is familiar with her,” they explain to her. “My first thought was Asra or Vesper, but I can't risk the real ones appearing while he’s disguised. She’s quite unlikely to make an appearance here, so If we run into anyone we shouldn't, it will be easy to explain why she’s with me.” Amaryllis turns to Julian, who's looking at his new appearance in a mirror on the wall. “And the two of you are just alike— you won't have to pretend to be anyone else.”

Amaryllis watches as Julian reaches up to cup his—Ophélie’s— face. “We are just alike, aren't we?” he says longingly. “She’s gotten quite big in the last few years, hasn't she?”

“You remember her?”

“Bits and pieces. Enough to put together what it is I've missed.”

“Well, the sooner we get this excursion over with, the sooner you can go see her for yourself. She’d love nothing more than a visit from you.”

-☽☼☾-

Julian claims to remember the entrance to the dungeons being located somewhere in the library.

With him disguised as Ophélie, the two were able to waltz right through the halls of the palace without a hitch.

“It was a secret passage. A book! I remember… red… gold?” Julian mutters, through Ophélie’s much higher voice, pulling at almost any book on the shelf he can find.

Finally, he pulls on a book bound in deep red leather with golden accents, just as predicted, and the shelf whirls to life, pulling away from the wall to reveal a dark, unlit passage.

Amaryllis summons a flame in the palm of their hand. They find themself far more wary of the flame than the ominous tunnel that lies ahead.

“Down we go?”

Julian only nods. They half expected him to fight back against them going too.

Amaryllis takes the first step, Julian close behind, dropping the glamour as they start to descend.

It’s a long, winding stairwell full of uneven steps. The further the two of them go, the brighter Amaryllis casts the flame. It’s eerie, but their discomfort at what they might find only grows when they sense a headache coming on.

Julian is uncharacteristically quiet, possibly too quiet.

Eventually, after what feels like several stories down, the steps end and they find themselves in a dirty, dimly lit clearing. There’s an old, rickety looking lift directly before them. Crimson light leaks from underneath it, likely coming from wherever the contraption leads to. A gate locks it away, made out of old and rusted wrought iron.

Amaryllis sends the flame they're holding into the rest of the room, lighting the worn torches mounted upon the walls.

Julian— fully himself once more— takes a few hesitant steps closer to the gate, a gloved hand reaching up to wipe at the iron plate in the center of it.

“This… I know this. It’s an old nightmare.”

Amaryllis joins him at his side.

There’s an inscription, along with a keyhole

“Bloody hands may turn the key. Know the weight of your sins, and enter,” they recite.

Julian pulls the skeleton key from his coat. “Well, this is it.”

Quickly, Amaryllis snatches the key from his grasp.

“We turn the key together, or not at all. Your innocence has been vouched for, I don't need you coming up with any other crimes before we have our proof.”

Julian seems to know better than to argue with them at this moment in time. He nods, an uneasy grin on his face, and his hand wraps around Amaryllis’s.

The lock turns over without a hitch. The gate snaps open with a horrible screech.

“Either we’re both just as guilty, or it's bullshit.” Amaryllis’s words don't seem to offer Julian any comfort. He stares down at his hands, cradling the key. He's filled with dread, from his expression to the way he holds his shoulders. There's a tremor running through him, they hear his breathing quicken. Against their better judgment, they take his hands in theirs, steadying him.

Amaryllis has been cruel to him, they know it. They could help it, they've considered that, instead of pushing him away they could have pulled him closer despite his protests. Their attitude might not have made his self-loathing any worse than it was, but it certainly hasn’t helped.

Julian gasps when Amaryllis touches him, like their comfort was the last thing he was expecting. He leans into them, burrowing his head into their shoulder, hands still clasped. “Amaryllis…” His voice still trembles. “I've been asking myself a question, over and over, since last night. If I didn't kill the Count, what am I guilty of? I've forgotten so much. Even though my memories are coming back…” He exhales against their neck, deep and shaky. “I think I know what it is. I think I’ve known since the letter I found tucked away in the book hidden in your room. If it’s true, I don't know how— I know it would be worse than if I was simply guilty of killing Lucio. I’m afraid that my crimes are here. At the bottom of this pit.”

“And what of mine, Julian? I have no memories, I have the same mark as you. Lucio’s own ghost accused me of his murder. According to your own standards, I’m just as guilty as you claim to be. What if we go down there and there’s no evidence of whatever crime it is you think you've done, but piles against me, what then?”

“I’ll still take the fall.”

“That’s not what I’m asking of you, but it proves my point. Why have you been so quick to judge yourself so harshly for the same thing you’d accept me as is for? You can't tell me it's different, because it’s not.”

Julian takes another deep breath, but this time it's steady and sure. His head turns, and then suddenly his lips are on theirs. Amaryllis kisses him back as his hands find their face, cupping their jaw and pulling them as close as he possibly can. They missed this, even if they only had it for a short moment and it had only been gone just as long. It feels so familiar, and they're so enraptured in the comfort he brings, that they don't notice the slight way Julian turns the two of them. They don't think anything of it when Julian’s hands slide back down to grasp their shoulders.

Amaryllis only realizes that they've made a mistake at all once Julian is already pulling away from them. He pushes them away gently, catching them off guard and sending them a few steps back. Before they can make sense of it, he’s already locked himself away in the lift.

They scramble forward to the gate, prying at the bars, but it’s locked itself once more, and they don't have the key.

“Julian!” they shout, fingers wrapping around the rusted bars.

“I’m sorry.” There's a look of genuine remorse in his eye, but he stands tall, confident in the choice he's made. “For what it’s worth, thank you, Amie. I’ve done a lot of things I regret. Things I remember, and, I’m sure, things I forgot. But I don't, I couldn't possibly regret meeting you. Every moment I have with you is a blessing. I want you to know, I… I want a future with you. I always have. More than anything. I’ll find some way for that to happen, to make you forgive me for everything. I promise.”

“Why are you making this sound like a goodbye?”

“I’ll see you soon.” Julian pulls the lever and the lift comes to life with a screeching of gears.

Amaryllis watches it take him down, still pressed against the bars of the gate, until the red glow consumes every last bit of him.

-☽☼☾-

As soon as Amaryllis is back into the palace proper, they rush to find Portia. It’s about midafternoon, the sunlight flooding through all the magnificently crafted windows is jarring when they first come up from the cavern. The halls are bustling, with all sorts of servants bussing about, cleaning and decorating. They stop to ask a few familiar faces if they've seen Portia lately, most have no answer, and a few look at them like they've just seen a ghost.

They haven't managed to compose themself by the time they finally stumble upon Nadia’s parlor. Determined, they push open the double doors and step into the room.

“Has anyone seen Portia?” Amaryllis doesn't bother waiting for the conversation they're certainly interrupting to be finished, doesn’t wait for their presence to be announced.

“Amaryllis?” Nadia questions, sat at the organ across the room. “You look a mess, what's happened?” They scan the room, no Portia to be found. But Asra is there— dressed to the nines in an outfit Nadia must have gifted him— along with several others who look far too similar to Nadia to not be related.

Asra shoots up from where he’s seated, almost spilling his cup of tea when he sets it down on the table. “Amie, what’s wrong?” He rushes over to them, thumb reaching up to brush something away from their cheek before his hands settle on their arms. He has the same look of genuine concern on his face as he does when he's waking them from yet another nightmare.

“Nothing, just… investigating.” Amaryllis clears their throat. “I apologize for the interruption. Is Portia around?”

“Her and I were quite busy most of the day with masquerade planning. She’s been wearing herself thin lately, and looked awfully tired. I— gently— ordered her to go home and get some rest until dinner.” Nadia explains, rising herself and stepping towards them. “You seem a little fatigued yourself, Amaryllis...” For a moment, they're worried Nadia is suspicious of them, but one look at her tells them she’s nothing short of a concerned friend at the moment.

“Nadi, why don't I take Amie back to their room to get cleaned up, maybe rest a little.” Asra suggests. Amaryllis can only nod, too embarrassed to admit that they really do need his comfort right now.

“I believe that is a wonderful idea. Perhaps if you're feeling well enough after, I could have the chance to properly introduce you to my sisters.”

Asra thanks Nadia and bids farewell to the room, and spins them around, leading them out the door and through the busy halls with an arm around their shoulder.

The walk to Amaryllis’s room is quiet. Faust pops out from Asra’s collar to greet them with a snake kiss on the cheek, and then disappears right back into the fabric.

No one speaks when they enter the room. Asra simply sits them down on the chaise, disappears for a moment, and then returns with a glass of water, helping them to drink. They didn't realize they had the taste of that cavern stuck in their throat until now. He leaves again, and Amaryllis vaguely registers the opening and shutting of cabinets. This time he returns with a damp cloth, wiping at their face once more, careful to be gentle around their scar.

“I've noticed you've stopped wearing your veil lately.” Asra finally speaks up, and it isn't what they were expecting him to say at all.

“I just haven't felt the need. I don't know why I ever did at all.” He takes their hands, and they look down at them, finally realizing they're covered in all sorts of dirt and rust from the cavern. No wonder every person they'd come across on their way looked at them funny.

Asra sets the cloth to the side and leans down, unlacing their boots, slipping them off one by one. He stands them up. “Come on, let's get you changed.”

And Amaryllis lets him lead them across the room, stands patiently as he unlaces their gown and switches it out for a clean nightgown. Lets him sit them down at the vanity where he goes to work brushing out their hair, as he braids it back out of their face. It's been years since Amaryllis has allowed him to care for them so closely, but once upon a time it was all they knew.

But right now, Asra is exactly what they need, and they'd be a fool to push him away.

-☽☼☾-

The sun has already set when Amaryllis wakes. They don't remember falling asleep, and they barely remember how they got in bed at all. They know Asra— nowhere to be found— was here. They know they stormed into Nadia’s parlor unannounced. They were looking for Portia because Julian—

Julian.

Amaryllis throws the duvet back and rushes out of bed, into the main room. Their panic rouses Styx, who’d been sleeping away on his perch in the corner this whole time.

“Amma?”

“Where is he, Styx? Has he come back yet?” they ask aloud to their familiar.

“Has who come back yet?” Asra’s sitting in the armchair, rising as they come rushing into the room.

“Julian.” Amaryllis tells him, as if they could be worried about anyone else at the moment.

“I don't think so.” Styx’s response echoes in their mind.

“Amie, slow down. Now that you seem to be yourself again, why don't you tell me what happened?”

“His memories are returning. We found the lift down to the dungeons. We were supposed to go down together but he went down alone instead. He was terrified about what he would find down there, what evidence he'd find of his crimes— of mine. I have to find another way down there.”

“Your crimes? Amaryllis, what are you talking about?”

“Lucio’s back. He told me I'm not innocent in his death. If Julian finds something that can prove I killed Lucio, he’s going to try to take the fall anyways.”

Asra sits back down, taking a deep breath and running his hands through his curls. “I know the dungeons. He’s fine, I promise. He’s not going to find what he thinks he will down there.”

“Then what is it he’ll find?”

“Answers. But I don't know if they'll make any sense to him.”

Amaryllis doesn't bother questioning Asra any further, but they're still uneasy and they're sure he knows it. He stands and approaches them, taking their hands. “He’s fine. He’ll find his way back up if he already hasn’t by now, and tomorrow you can track him down and continue sneaking him around the palace while I keep Nadia looking the other way.”

“That’s why you showed up here?”

“I had my suspicions, and I thought it was finally time to visit Nadi.” Asra gives their hands a squeeze. “Ilya is just… being Ilya, unfortunately.”

Amaryllis rolls their eyes. “Don't I know it.”

“I know I've been harsh when it concerns him. I’m sorry.”

“No, I don't blame you. I've said a lot of cruel things to him in the past couple days.”

“Oh really? Ilya finally got an earful from you?” Asra bites back a laugh.

“He makes it hard not to.”

“Well, I think you deserve not to dwell on him for a little while. Nadia sent for us to join her and her sisters in the ballroom, what do you say?”

-☽☼☾-

Asra spins Amaryllis around the ballroom. They can’t remember a time where the two of them ever danced together, but having him as a partner feels natural, like they've done this a billion times before.

“Nine years.” he whispers against their ear. Amaryllis isn't surprised to learn that they’ve known Asra for a third of their life.

“If I’ve known you that long, how long have I known Julian?” Amaryllis asks, surprised to find that Asra doesn't falter.

“It’s weird to hear you call him that, you know.”

“What else would I call him?”

“Ilya. That's what you knew him as, how you introduced him to me.” The two step effortlessly in time to the music Nadia and her sisters are playing, a routine forming out of thin air. “But you've known him longer than me. At least ten years, I think.”

Amaryllis doesn't know how to respond, and shouldn't have brought Julian up in the first place. They were having a nice time, but now anxiety is starting to creep back in. Asra must sense it, because he twirls them again and flourishes it by dipping them low, wrapping their leg around his waist.

The song being played changes to a slower ballad then, and Amaryllis rises slowly, keeping their leg hooked on Asra’s hip.

“Another dance?” Amaryllis drops their leg, no answer needed from Asra to know he would. Not with the way he’s looking at them now. They take his arms, guiding them up to their shoulders, while their hands go down to rest on his waist. Amaryllis leads them, swaying gently to the music. “How different am I now? Am I still the same person I was before?”

“Hauntingly so.” Asra breaks from his daze. “You're the exact same Amie I knew and…”

“And what?”

“…And loved. Love.”

Amaryllis breaks the rhythm they'd fallen into, standing still on the dancefloor, music still swirling around them.

“Why now, Asra?”

“I just thought you should hear it. I know you know, and I know we missed our chance, but I've never told you—“

Amaryllis cuts him off. “I woke up loving you, it was my first coherent thought.”

“But?” His expression isn’t hopeful, just, curious.

The music and their conversation is cut short when Styx comes flying in from the outside veranda, screeching.

“Amma! It’s Julian!”

#the arcana #the arcana apprentice #amaryllis leroux #apprentice amaryllis #julian devorak #asra alnazar #portia devorak #nadia satrinava #fan apprentice #amie fic #amieilya #amieasra #my fic #come what may

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