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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 10 months

Note

Humble request- (inspired by Asra's section of the m6 with insomniac mc headcannons that you posted previously) Mc accidentally traveling into the m6's dreams. Also I really enjoy your writing!

The Arcana HCs: When MC accidentally visits M6's dreams

~ @cricketchirps you have a marvelous mind and I love how you think! Thank you for the request, it was so fun to write! - brainrot ~

-- to set the scene --

You'll never not love falling asleep next to your beloved. It's the perfect conclusion to every day, good and bad and everything in between. It's the quiet rustle of sheets and blankets, the mundane perfection of a whispered "goodnight", the familiar intimacy of their smell on your nightclothes. Right now, seeing their peaceful sleeping face so close to yours, it's a healing sweetness that cradles you so gently it makes your heart ache. You shuffle a little closer, nuzzle into their embrace, and drift off to the rhythm of their quiet breathing.

Julian

You would know that voice anywhere

It seems you're on a stage - no, the deck of a ship - no, a stage, definitely a stage - and now it's the Coliseum floor?

A look to your right reveals Julian, in his nightshirt, performing some of the most dramatic improv you've ever seen to an increasingly enraptured audience. Is this why he talks in his sleep?

"I shall fight thee, foul beast!" he roars, and in the blink of an eye the stage is a pirate ship heading towards a hideous sea serpent wearing Valdemar's cloth-wrapped horns

The crowd's wild cheers cause Julian to draw up short, flicking his head around with a roguish smirk. "Let's see how it fares against this!" And the serpent transforms into one of those blow-up tube men frequently seen at car dealerships

He whips out a cutlass, the stage lights somehow glinting off it in slow motion, and thrusts it repeatedly at the enemy, comically missing the mark each time. You can't help but cackle along with the crowd

The sound of your voice pulls Julian's attention to you and now he's striding across the stage, taking your hands in his and kneeling bare-legged in front of you as the ship becomes a moonlit garden

"MC, my beloved, my darling, my dearest" He's pressing noisy kisses to your wrists, watching you blush at the sound of thousands of quiet "awww"s from the still present audience

You laugh again and gently tug your hands away. "I didn't know you had dreams like this, Julian."

And that's when he goes pale. "Wha - MC? The real MC? How are you - how are you here, I don't understand, is this even safe?!"

His panic is directly affecting both the audience and the stage, your surroundings flipping between boats and taverns and loud storms and chaotic crowds, until a faraway shout wakes you both

You open your eyes to see a wide-eyed Julian, tangled in his sheets, soaked in a cold sweat, startled awake by the increased volume of his own sleep-talking

"Julian? Are you alright?"

He turns to you wide-eyed, sending you a sheepish grin. "Let's - ah - let's pretend that didn't happen. Oh, and MC? Maybe warn me next time?"

Asra

You know where you are as soon as you open your eyes. Nobody else you know could effortlessly dream up a place like this

There's a tie-dye sky slowly wrinkling above you, you're standing on a floor of multicolored orbeez, the air feels like fizzy sherbert on your tongue, and thousands of tiny Faust flowers are kissing your ankles

You take a hesitant step forward and the ground shivers, trees resembling lisa frank paintings appearing in a shower of poprocks

Upon coming closer to one, you see that it has drapes of luxurious neon fur instead of foliage. You run your hand along it, marveling at its softness, when the trunk begins to gurgle and you stop

"Wait! Do that again!" Asra's materialized on one of the branches next to you, lazing happily on the thick fur. "Humor me?"

You let out a startled laugh and slowly comply, running your hand along your branch again. The gurgling increases in volume until the crown of the tree suddenly inflates and releases a holographic bubble with the most obscene burping noise you've ever heard

Asra's smiling at you between fits of laughter, reaching out a hand that you're suddenly close enough to to grasp and pulling you next to them. "Hello, my love. I didn't expect to see you here."

You snuggle into his side, trusting his fearlessness as you begin to sink into what's become a vast field of fuzz. "I didn't expect to wander into your dream, either. Is it always like this?"

They sigh blissfully and twine your fingers together. "Not always. But more and more, as I get practice." You watch in awe as the sky darkens, tie-dye rippling into glowing paint splatters of galaxies. "Do you like it?"

You look over at him and catch his proud, teasing smile. "Are you showing off for me, Asra?"

"Oh, MC." They pull you closer as you plummet down together, the slowly sinking softness giving way to a sea of stars. You float weightless next to them, their curls bending starlight around the two of you

"Surely you know I can do better than that."

It takes a promise to join him again before he agrees to wake up with you

Nadia

The first thing you're conscious of is a dull, repetitive roar just above your head. You don't feel weightless, exactly, but you do feel like you're floating, your feet bearing half the weight they're used to

You look up towards the soothing rush above you, and that's your first glimpse of this place.

Crystal arches meet high above your head, golden specks scattered across the tops like snow, and the sound you're hearing is that of sparkling pink-blue waves breaking over the top

Your eyes slowly trail down the spires, catching nostalgia laden pockets of solitude, and land on a familiar figure. "Nadia!"

She straightens and turns to you, eyes wide. The silver clockwork floor below her whirs to life and begins to click and squeeze the space between you until she's close enough to touch

"MC?" One of her hands trails down your cheek in wonder. "You aren't the MC I see in my dreams, you're my MC. How did you come to be in this place?"

"I don't know." You lean into her touch as the floor continues to whir and click and chime. "Did you build this place?"

She knits her brows and looks out past the crystal pillars, watching the golden specks from the ceiling settle into a beach at her feet. "I did not build it ... but I believe it is my domain to claim."

Her robes shimmer into something lighter and shorter as she steps off of the clockwork and onto the shimmering sand. Her hair floats idly around her shoulders when she turns back to look at you

"Care to join me?"

You reach out for her hand and the golden gear below you poofs into beach. "Is this where you try out new clothing designs?"

She laughs, a floral breeze picking up to pull the hair out of her face, and lightly traces her fingertips from one shoulder, along your collarbone, to the other shoulder, raising an eyebrow at you

"It's worth the view." You look down to see what she's changed your normal nightwear to, and your blush makes your vision swim

You wake up to see her sketching her design for you before she forgets

Muriel

Silence has never felt so vibrant

When you open your eyes you're in something like the Tarske Forest, only, it seems to have folded into a very large square

Looking up gives you the most grounded sense of calming vertigo, because you're in fact looking down at the tops of the trees above you, and further past them to the mossy ground

Gravity feels alive here, like it's taking slow, deep breaths, and the subtle heartbeat beneath your feet holds them steadily to the ground

You start to explore, subconsciously matching your breathing to the intense quiet. You reach the first wall of the forest quickly, where the ground takes a ninety degree angle straight up

One more step, and the world rolls over, what used to be the ground a wall behind you and the wall before you now your path. You hear the forest give a sigh, and then there's Muriel

The silence is too sacred to speak, so you whisper and hope it forgives your impudence. "Muriel - did you make this?"

He takes your hand in his and guides you to sit, a mossy root rising up to support your weight. He's hesitant to speak, his low murmur somehow making the silence quieter. "I didn't build this. It's just ... me."

The verdant sanctuary makes a little more sense now. You look at the tight set of his shoulders and risk another whisper. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

He looks at you in surprise. "How did you get here?"

You answer with a shrug. He averts his gaze, face reddening as he pouts slightly over your earlier apology. "... I guess I don't mind."

The forest cube isn't very pleased with his roundabout answer. Soon enough, the world feels like a roundabout as it rolls again with no warning and you land on top of him in the moss

"I - I'm so sorry," you murmur as you push yourself off of his chest, "I didn't mean to -" and you're cut off as the horizon turns again

"Don't be," he grunts, blushing as he catches himself from crushing you entirely

You wake up to the sound of your rolling lover landing on the floor with a heavy thud

Portia

You open your eyes to pouring golden sunlight and the sound of steel striking against steel. You sit up on your massive, leather-bound book to see Portia sitting cross-legged on an open page

She's leaning forward, eyes trained on whatever landscape is behind you, pumping her fist and cheering breathlessly to whatever the noise signifies

You stand and call her name. "Portia?"

"Yes?" She's blinking up at you, apple halfway to her mouth. "Oh, MC. Take a seat, you're just in time for the 'and there was only one bed' trope."

You plop down on the cushion next to her and scoop some bread pudding into your hand in lieu of a bowl. "What bed are we looking for?"

"That one." She points the core of her pear at the double bed in front of you, two chemistry-laden figures standing awkwardly by a patchwork quilt as the snowstorm rages outside. "Wait, MC?!"

You're pulled back from the enticing scene in time to see Portia's eyes widen comically. She grabs your sleeve in her hand and starts to shake you gently

"What are you still doing here? You usually just float away or join me in the book, don't tell me - are you in my dream?" You nod. "Im so haopy to see you! How did you do that?!?"

"I don't know how I did it. I fell asleep, and here I am."

The smile she sends you makes your landscape of pages glow golden and she tackles you with a hug, knocking you back into the massive printed page you two are sharing

"I have so much to show you! Oh! The detective one first!" The light vanishes and the two of you are standing in a grey drizzle, looking at horses pulling black chariots over a foggy city's cobblestone streets

"Wait! No! The castle one!" Now you're looking out at rolling, heather-covered fields beneath a silver mist sky from an old stone tower

"No, wait!" Portia shouts again, and now you're flipping through more scenery than you can keep track of into oblivion

You wake up to her grimacing with the beginnings of a headache

Lucio

The smell hits you first

Rich food, wine, perfumes, and flowers are already swimming through your nostrils when the noise registers. Thousands of voices, chattering, cheering, and laughing

And in the middle of all the madness, a voice you'd recognize anywhere: "Drinks for everyone! Food for everyone!! Celebrate!!!"

That's your cue to open your eyes. You're in a palace somehow ten times more opulent than the one in Vesuvia, with chandeliers hanging from chandeliers and literal fountains of wine

It takes you all of three seconds to spot Lucio - he's in the middle of it all, calling for delicacies and performances to be rolled out nonstop to the crowd gathering around him

It takes him all of two minutes to spot you struggling through the partygoers, and he lights up immediately. "MC! MC, join me!"

You're suddenly at a table with him halfway up a flight of stairs, an empty place setting in front of you. Lucio's peacocking around you as you try to shout over the noise and explain what's happening

"Lucio, I'm in your dream!"

"No, MC!" He declares with everyone present, "You are my dream!"

It's hard not to be flattered and swept up with the way everyone present cheers for his announcement, but you want to make sure he knows what's happening, so you catch a flying hand and tug

He's immediately drawing you close with a delighted smile. "MC, you want to dance first? Director, give us music!"

But it seems instead of playing the waltz he's hoping for, the musicians sit on their instruments and start singing opera

"Lucio, this is a dream! I'm in your dream, with magic!"

He lights up. "Magic, of course! Begin the performance, my MC wants to see magic!" He pauses in confusion as the orchestra turned choir begins to put on costumes for a play. "Magic? But MC, you're a magician, why would you want to see magic?"

It's the sound of fireworks going off in the chandeliers that wakes you. Lucio leaps off his pillow right after with a surprised grunt

"MC," he says breathlessly, "I want to do that again. Teach me!"

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iviaggisulcomo · 8 months

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"Un’anima può essere distrutta in uno dei seguenti tre modi: attraverso ciò che ti fanno gli altri; attraverso ciò che gli altri ti costringono a fare di te stesso; e attraverso ciò che tu stesso decidi di farti."

Julian Barnes, Il rumore del tempo

#julian barnes #citazioni libri #citazioni vita #anima

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ailendolin · 4 months

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Thomas's trauma - Self-recs

Let's start off the new year with a round of self-recs to give some old works some love! Since this is the time for fireworks, I thought I'd compile a list of fics and meta posts I wrote about Thomas being affected by loud noises.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated, and if anyone wants to do this to promote their own works, you're more than welcome to! I'm sure I'm not the only one who has works with a recurring theme.

Fanfiction:

Flashback: In which Thomas's trauma gets triggered by a popping balloon and he has a panic attack outside of the basement.

“Thomas?” Julian asked. Thomas’s eyes snapped up to him, wide and fearful. “It was just a balloon.”

Julian’s tone wasn’t condescending, held not even a hint of amusement at his expense and yet Thomas couldn’t help the urge to defend himself, to hide from him the feeling of pure terror that had taken hold of him.

Fireworks: In which Thomas hides in the basement on New Year's Eve and Nigel keeps him company.

“Hey,” Nigel’s voice suddenly pulled him back to the present. He looked worried, so Thomas offered him a shaky smile. “I’m fine.” “You keep saying that,” Nigel noted. He shifted a little until their shoulders were gently pressed together. Thomas forced himself not to lean into the touch. “But it’s alright if you’re not.”

Privilege: In which the toaster sends Thomas running from the room and the Captain goes after him.

“Go away.” “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Thomas,” the Captain said quietly.

Thomas’s breathing hitched. “Please. I don’t want you to see me like this. You - you’ll laugh.”

The Storm: In which Julian finds Thomas in distress and realises that storms trigger him only under specific circumstances.

“It’s the middle of the night and you’re inside Button House. What you heard was thunder, not a gunshot.” As if on cue, lightning flashed across the sky. A second or two later a roll of thunder followed. Thomas shrunk in on himself and squeezed his eyes shut again. Julian tightened his hold on his hands.

Meta:

Why not every loud noise / gunshot sound startles Thomas

Further thoughts on what exactly triggers Thomas and how he fared when Button House served as a headquarter for the military

Thoughts on Thomas's physical reaction to things and how they might relate to a ghost power

#thomas thorne #bbc ghosts #mp bbc ghosts #my fic

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bakuliwrites · 8 months

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what dnd classes would the m6 be do you think

Excellent question. So, I think the game devs have answered this a couple different times, once here and then they posted some D&D character sheets on their gumroad. But I still have my own opinions of what I think they might be, so here we go!

Asra: Sorcerer

Sorcerer's draw from inherent magic either through a gift or lineage in their official description. Given that Asra comes from a family of magicians, I think this would be a fitting class for him.

High charisma, Asra is rather charming and eloquent, witty and confident. Quiet and enigmatic, sly and mischievous.

Nadia: Wizard (or Artificer)

Based off of classic dnd, I'd say Nadia would work well as a wizard. She is highly intelligent and scholarly. I could see her faring well with spells and learning new ones when she can.

But if we were to go based off of some of the later additions, Artificer would be a really cool class for her given her proficiency with inventing mechanical devices.

Julian: Bard

Julian would have a blast as a bard. He plays the vielle, he's got a quick wit. I would pay good money to see what sorts of quips he could come up with in a pinch. High charisma.

I could also see him faring well as a rogue, but his energy is just so bardic to me.

Portia: Rogue

Portia knows all the ins-and-outs of the Vesuvian palace. I think she'd do well as a rogue. Her mischievous nature would play nicely into the role.

She can keep a secret like no one else. I think she'd be a really fun and upbeat rogue.

Muriel: Druid/Fighter

I feel like for Muriel's story arc, he'd start out as an unwilling fighter and excel with his great strength.

But in his heart, I think Muriel is a druid. His love of animals and nature would work very well with the class. I think it would be neat if he could take animal form as well, perhaps as a bear.

Lucio: Fighter

Lucio grew up in the harshness of the South in a warrior tribe. I think he'd fair well as a fighter.

He'd be proficient in weaponry and fighting, high athletics, rather dexterous. Not much skill with magic, but able to use some minor cantrips.

Thank you for your question! My inbox is always open to questions and comments. I love getting them, so I truly appreciate you dropping in to ask this :) The BG3 and Arcana obsessions are real and chronically part of my personality now, so I was delighted to get this.

#the arcana #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #portia devorak #muriel of the kokhuri #lucio morgasson #count lucio #arcana headcanons #dani headcanons #dani answers

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mintoxhitsuji · 5 months

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Ik Ik, oc art doesn‘t fare as well than my fanart, but I still feel proud enough to post this here. I drew my boy Julian, surrounded by a lot of different things I thought fit him really well.

#artists on tumblr #anime #original work #illustration #original character #oc #traditional art #copicciao #copicdrawing #traditional drawing #traditional illustration #clutter #cute #kawaii #cute aesthetic #ouji fashion #ouji #mintoxhitsuji oc julian #mintoxhitsuji black sheep

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episims · 1 month

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Ruby "-this place always brings me memories! Remember when I was pregnant with Sara...?"

Becca "Oh, yeah. Vera had to improvise the preliminary form for our case-"

Happy birthday, Cloud!

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mk-writes-stuff · 23 days

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OC vs Cockroach

Rules: how would your OCs fare against a cockroach?

Thanks @mysticstarlightduck for the tag! I’m like 85% sure I haven’t done this for the Pirates’ Roost crew yet so I’ll do them!

Merry: like 4/10. He’d be bothered by it and probably ask someone to squish it for him while hiding in a corner

Malcolm: 7/10. Would kill it and then immediately track down where it had come from because he’s concerned something got into the supplies

Tatum: 9/10. Would not notice or care that it was there

Amelia: 10/10. She’d just crush it and move on

Julian: shockingly, like a 5/10. They’d kill it and that would be fine but they’d spend the rest of the day meticulously searching every inch of their office for cockroaches and sterilizing everything it could have touched

Breeches: 8/10. He’d crush it while screaming loudly, not because he’s scared but because he likes screaming

Corbin: also 10/10. He’d just kill it. Might send a deckhand to check the supplies

Sokzil: …I’m not even going to rate this one. He’d eat it. He’d just pounce on it and eat it, I’m sorry

This was a fun game (although I regret thinking about Sokzil /j). @touloserlautrec @modernwritercraft @rkmoon @finickyfelix have any of you played this one?

#writeblr #tag game #the pirates’ roost

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curiositasmundi · 2 months

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[...] «Da un piccolo, ma grande, liceo di Napoli, voglio lanciare un messaggio perché la cultura non sia mero nozionismo settoriale né piatta dialettica. Solo con la cultura si capiscono le cause delle guerre e si costruisce la pace: la cultura è valore universale, della [tribù umana], per cui Dostoevskij è patrimonio dell’umanità», disse allora. Putin commentò il murales dicendo che Dostoevskij era «ormai stato cancellato in Occidente» e che «l’ultima operazione così massiccia per distruggere la letteratura indesiderata era stata condotta in Germania dai nazisti», ma disse anche che opere come quella di Jorit gli davano speranza per il futuro. Jorit aveva detto, in risposta: «È mai possibile che sono riuscito a fare più io, semplice cittadino, per la pace con un murale che il nostro governo? Non è che in fondo in fondo ai nostri leader questa guerra fa quasi comodo?». Da allora Jorit è stato più volte sia in Russia che nel Donbass, regione orientale dell’Ucraina dove dal 2014 è in corso una guerra fra combattenti filorussi finanziati e armati dalla Russia e esercito ucraino. Nel settembre del 2022 a Mosca Jorit ha realizzato un murales dedicato a Julian Assange, fondatore di Wikileaks e personaggio considerato molto divisivo, tra chi pensa che sia un eroe che subisce una persecuzione ingiusta per aver svelato i “segreti dei potenti”, e chi lo ritiene una minaccia per la sicurezza nazionale per aver collaborato con l’intelligence russa – volontariamente o meno – per influenzare il risultato delle elezioni statunitensi del 2016, quelle vinte da Donald Trump. Intervistato da Repubblica sulla sua scelta di realizzare un’opera d’arte in un paese autoritario come la Russia, dove la libertà di stampa ed espressione è fortemente limitata dal governo e c’è una lunga storia di dissidenti politici incarcerati o assassinati, aveva risposto «in Russia non c’è libertà di pensiero? Questo lo sta dicendo lei». Nel luglio del 2023 era poi stato fortemente criticato per essersi recato a Mariupol, città del sud-est dell’Ucraina occupata da mesi dall’esercito russo, per dipingere un murales raffigurante una bambina con i colori della bandiera russa dipinti nelle iridi degli occhi e circondata da due missili con la scritta NATO, benché la NATO non abbia condotto alcun attacco missilistico contro Mariupol. Nei post pubblicati su Instagram mentre era a Mariupol, Jorit scrisse che «ci hanno mentito su Vietnam, ci hanno mentito sull’Afghanistan, ci hanno mentito sull’Iraq, ci hanno mentito sui Balcani e ci hanno mentito sulla Libia e sulla Siria. E ora ho le prove: ci stanno mentendo anche sul Donbass. Qui l’etica non c’entra nulla, diffidate da quelli che vorrebbero farci la morale, hanno le mani sporche di sangue. Qui non c’è nessuno da liberare. È tutto l’esatto opposto di quello che ci raccontano in TV. La resistenza che avremmo dovuto appoggiare è quella del popolo del Donbass che lotta da 8 anni per liberarsi da un regime; quello di Kiev che di democratico oramai non aveva più niente». [...]

Da: Lo street artist italiano che fa propaganda a Putin - IlPost

#jorit

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thebrikbox · 2 months

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MCU’s FANTASTIC FOUR

The dynamic duo, Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, created a super hero family with powers to protect the world from dastardly evil beings with plots to rule the earth. The mighty team is led by scientist Reed Richards - Mr. Fantastic, Susan Storm (Mrs. Richards) - The Invisible Woman, Johnny Storm - The Human Torch is Susan’s brother, and Ben Grimm - The Thing is Reed’s best friend.

The team went a test flight expedition aboard a space ship when they were hit by a cosmic storm containing a massive amount of gamma radiation. Though they weren’t injured, they soon discovered that the exposure to the radiation altered their DNA, each having a different life-changing effect. They each learned their abilities and became superheroes.

Reed’s body became elastic and rubbery, stretching to unbelievable lengths. Susan can make herself invisible along with the ability to create force fields. Johnny’s body ignites into flames as hot as the sun and he can fly. Ben’s anatomy transformed into stone with unmatchable physical strength. Together, the combined abilities of the team makes them one to be reckoned with, but challenging for their foes to want to conquer.

From Pages to Screen

THE FANTASTIC FOUR first came to life in 1963 with ten episodes.

Cartoon series entertained fans of all ages in 1967, 1978, and in 1994 - all fun and enjoyable to watch.

In 1994, a TV movie was made but not released. The budget was low and it was during screening that producers refused to air it because of the low quality special effects and acting.

In 2005, 20th Century Fox released the first of two the FANTASTIC FOUR films starring Ioan Gruffudd as Reed Richards, Jessica Alba as Susan Storm, Chris Evans as Johnny Storm, Michael Chiklis as Ben Grimm, and Julian McMahon as Victor Von Doom. The movie’s budget started at $87.5 million and when production wrapped, it cost the studio $100 million to make. FOUR fans rushed to theaters to see their beloved heroes earning the studio $333.5 million dollars.

In 2007, the cast reprised their roles in FANTASTIC FOUR: RISE OF THE SILVER SURFER. Budget for this production was $120-$130 million and had box office earnings of $301.9 million.

Both films were directed by Tim Story. Mark Frost, Michael France, and Stan Lee wrote the screenplay in 2005 and the 2007 film was written by Don Payne and Mark Frost. Critics weren’t fond of either movies, but they fared well in earnings and fans. Of course, Stan Lee had adored cameos that had us tickled pink with delight. If you’ve seen the movie, I’m sure you may have been critical about the CGI, but keep in mind that that particular technology was blooming and it was decent and watchable for its time.

Both films had critics that felt the movie had a lack-luster feel and felt generic when compared to SPIDER-MAN. (I don’t believe these critics read any of the comic book series). Despite their opinions, comic fans enjoyed the movies for what they were: cartoon heroes that came to life and non-comic book fans enjoyed the movies for pure entertainment.

Marketing FANTASTIC FOUR products like toys, clothes, and even comic books soared, earning both the studio and Marvel Comics significant profit.

Movie grade: 0.0 to 4.0

2005 scores 3.6

2007 scores 3.8

In 2015, 20th Century Fox released another FANTASTIC FOUR (FANT4STIC) movie that is based on the original comic book series by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, but the movie went in a different direction that became a blockbuster flop.

The film starred Miles Teller as Reed Richards, Kate Mara as Susan Storm, Michael B. Jordan as Johnny Storm, Jaime Bell as Ben Grimm, Toby Kebell as Victor Von Doom, and Reg E. Cathey as Dr. Franklin Storm. The doomed flick was directed by Josh Trank and written by Jeremy Slater, Simon Kinberg, and Josh Trank.

In this version, the team consists of super intelligent teenagers ousted by peers. They teleport to an alternate universe and during the transport, something goes horribly wrong and the four are physically altered with their newfound special abilities. They are forced to combine their powers to defend the earth from a friend turned enemy determined to rule the planet.

Reviews were less than favorable and critics weren’t at loss for words with a few walking out of theaters unable to finish watching it, and I was one of them. I did eventually finish the movie on Disney+, and it was grueling. It cost the studio $120 million to make and the studio earned only $167.9 million overall compared to the previous releases with only $56.1 million in the states. Expectations and hype were crushed and for millions of FOUR fans, this film is too unbearable to view.

Movie grade: 0.0 to 4.0

Movie scores a -0.0

Marvel Studios announced its production of a new FANTASTIC FOUR movie for release in 2025. The new cast has fans reeling with excitement. The new faces of the beloved heroes are Pedro Pascal as Reed Richards, Vanessa Kirby as Sue Storm, Joseph Quinn as Johnny Storm, and Ebon Moss-Bachrach as Ben Grimm. Marvel hired Matt Shakman (WandaVision) to direct with Josh Friedman, Jeff Kaplan, and Ian Springer set to write the screenplay.

As a seriously devoted fan of Marvel Comics and movies, I look forward to seeing the 2025 release.

*photos: Hanna-Barbera, Marvel Comic, MCU, Warped Factor, Getty Images, Variety

#fantastic four #marvel #silver surfer #fan comic #comic books #superhero #marvel mcu #mcu #movie time #movie theater #movie review #movies #movie talk #fantastic 4 #mr fantastic #movie critic

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into-the-daniverse · 10 months

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Muriel Route Rewrite | The Lovers

In which, Alec is led out of the city by a mysterious wolf, meeting an even more mysterious man who needs her help, even if he won’t admit it.

Next Part

5.8k words

Alec woke up feeling no more rested than before and after tossing and turning in her bed for the better half of an hour, decided that she might as well begin her search for the day. Faust was nowhere to be found as she got ready, but she wasn’t worried. Asra’s familiar was more than capable of keeping herself safe and entertained while Alec made the trek back to their shop alone.

The sun was still slowly rising, the dew not yet dry as she walked through the streets back home. Very few people were out, which was good—she didn’t feel like talking much at all, or interacting with anyone if she didn’t absolutely have to. After the day before… well, she didn’t remember all of it, but it had drained her.

As she approached the shop, she sighed. She hoped Julian had been telling the truth yesterday when he said he wouldn’t be returning to her shop, but she wasn’t completely convinced that she wouldn’t find him rummaging through her cupboards once she opened the front door. She could still feel the magical protection charms around the shop, which was good, at least.

But when she put her hand on the door to unlock it, it swung open.

Frozen, she stared hard at the door. Right next to where her hand had touched it, there was a horrible smear of blood, and gouges in the wood by the handle. It was like someone had broken in. But the protection charms were intact.

Fear trickled chillingly down her spine. Asra. He must have gotten hurt, and maybe that animal she saw him with before carried him here. Instantly, she ran inside, struggling to see in the dark shop, all of the curtains drawn.

“Asra?” She cried out for him, her voice choking as she took in the shop. Things were scattered about, chairs, clothes, cushions—there was even broken glass on the floor, but she was almost too preoccupied to notice that. The destruction led to the back room, but so did a trail of blood. She ran towards the room, heart pounding in her ears. “As!”

What greeted her in the middle of the room, eyes bright and yellow, pacing in front of the old couch, wasn’t Asra. It was a wolf. Alec stopped breathing. It was huge, and it was dripping blood onto the floor. She felt dizzy, wondering briefly how well she would fare if the wolf attacked.

Its body tensed, and so did hers. But when it opened its mouth, instead of a snarl came a mournful whine.

Alec blinked. The wolf whined again.

Finding herself able to breathe again, she slowly knelt down, holding her hands out towards the animal, palms up. “Hey,” she called out, voice soft. “Hey, sweetheart, are you hurt?” The wolf watched her, and she shook one of her wrists, bracelets chiming, and a small light appeared in her palm. It started to approach her, head down. When it got close enough, she ran her hand between its ears, petting it gently. “How’d you get here, hm?”

This close, she could see that the wolf itself wasn’t injured. Which added yet another question to the growing list in her mind. Whose blood was it? Why did it come here? The wolf was able to get inside the shop, however violently, without breaking the protection charms. Which meant… like Julian, this was someone Asra knew.

“Did you… are you looking for Asra?” The wolf perked up a little, tilting its head at her hopefully. She frowned, holding its chin. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby. He left a few days ago. He’s not here.”

Slumping down, the wolf whined, low and long. It looked dejected, confused. Lost. Alec stared down at it in her lap, her thoughts churning. It needed help. If not for the wolf exactly, it must be for someone it knew, someone Asra also knew. Again, her desire to help was stronger than her unease.

She shifted, lifting the wolf’s head up slightly. “It’s okay. I’ll help you. I’m a magician, too.” Her voice sounded much more confident than she felt, but it seemed to be enough for the wolf, who lit up, its tail thumping happily against the ground as it stood up again. It nudged her cheek and started walking to the front door. “Woah, hang on!”

Following it out of the shop, Alec grimaced as she thought about how much of a pain it would be to clean up the shop when she got back. For now, she just closed the door behind her, locking it as carefully as she could, and then took off down the street, where the wolf was already trotting along, checking every once in a while that she was still following.

Running felt exhilarating. She almost forgot why she was running, just enjoying the feeling of the wind in her hair as she chased the wolf through the city. She wasn’t sure when the last time was that she got to run as hard as she was. It wasn’t until the wolf led her to the edge of the forest outside the city that she came to a hard stop.

Chest heaving, she looked at the dark trees apprehensively. She’d never come this far before, at least, as far as she could remember. And it was so dark… she wasn’t sure she’d be able to see once she stepped into the shadows. Anxiety washed over her, and she suddenly wondered if she was doing the right thing.

Then a low whine came from the trees, and the wolf poked its head back out, giving her the same mournful eyes from before. She sighed. “I’m coming, baby.”

Swallowing down her nerves, she took the last few steps into the forest, glancing back over her shoulder at the last moment before being engulfed in shadows.

With the pace the wolf led and the intensity of the terrain, Alec didn’t have any opportunity to light the way, focusing all of her efforts on just trying not to trip or twist her ankle in the thick undergrowth. At least that was what she told herself. There was a pricking feeling at the back of her mind that made her feel like someone was watching her, or looking for her. Drawing any more attention to herself than her already less-than-graceful steps through the forest did felt like a bad idea.

Just when she thought she lost sight of the wolf completely, she stepped into a small clearing, the wolf next to her, hackles raised. The sunlight filtered through the leaves just enough that she could actually see around her, and she felt her breath catch at the sight. Much like the destruction wrought on her shop, but even worse, the clearing was in tatters, dirt and grass strewn about, tree branches cracked, and trunks split—as if a fight had taken place. And the smell of blood was almost nauseating, coming from a large figure in the center of the clearing.

The wolf broke from her side, bounding over to the figure. Once it moved, Alec could see that it was two figures, a larger man hunched protectively over something smaller that she couldn’t make out yet.

“Inanna…? What are you doing here? Get away!”

Alec flinched at the gruffness of the man’s voice, but the wolf wasn’t deterred, and started nudging at him for a moment before huffing and looking back at her. She felt her body freeze as the hood fell from his face, and his angry, piercing green glare settled on her.

“You.”

She almost didn’t even hear him recognize her, too distracted by the blood covering him, his face, his clothes. There was a serious gash on his forehead, still weeping blood, and as she watched, Inanna—the wolf, she figured—started trying to lick it clean.

“Oh.” She exhaled, the sight of blood and the taste of it in the air overtaking her senses. It felt… familiar, but she didn’t know why, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Instead, she took a few hesitant steps towards the man. “You’re hurt.”

His gaze hardened even more. “Don’t touch me.”

She stopped, holding her hands out towards him, palms up, like she had with Inanna. “I won’t,” she whispered. “I… what happened to you?”

He relaxed a little when she stopped advancing, but tensed up again when she asked what happened. When he didn’t answer right away, she looked past him, at whatever he was crouched over, and realized he was draped over another unmoving creature. Noticing her gaze, he slowly drew back from it, allowing her to see that it was a deer. Or something like a deer. She wasn’t entirely sure, due to the feathers that trailed down its back, meeting two dull, ragged wings. Inching closer, she was able to see that where its heart should have been, there was instead a great gaping cavern, torn open by rough claws.

Her hands flew to her mouth, a cold shiver passing through her body. Whatever it was, it was something precious. She could feel the forest around her mourning, and her own eyes watered.

The man scowled, leaning back over the creature, his cloak covering it from her view again. “Leave. You’re not needed here.”

She wasn’t sure what took hold of her to answer: “but I am. She brought me here. I… I’m not Asra, I’m sorry. But I can help.” Slowly, she stepped towards him again. “Please.”

He eyed her warily, frowning as the wolf whined at his side. “I can manage on my own.” There was a flash of pain in his eyes, and she bit her lip. Around them, an eerie howl echoed through the air, and everything in Alec’s body told her to run, to get away from the clearing and the forest. But she stood her ground, kneeling down to look up at the man.

“You’ll get home faster if I help. Please, let me.” She was almost begging with him, but she couldn’t leave him alone, not knowing that he was someone Asra knew.

A number of emotions warred over his face, too quickly for her to name any of them. But after an agonizing pause, he relented, his shoulders slumping just enough for her to know he had given in. “Fine.”

He stood on swaying feet, and almost tumbled back down, but Alec rushed to his side, supporting him with her shoulder. He tensed, and she was almost afraid he’d pull away completely, but after a moment he relaxed again.

“…This way.”

As they stumbled through the trees, Alec felt like the forest was closing in on them, making it harder to see and even breathe. The mourning from before was replaced with something else, something foreboding that had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. When a branch snapped in front of them, she gasped.

The man stopped; eyes wide. “He’s back.” Inanna growled from just in front of both of them, her fur bristled.

Alec almost didn’t even want to ask. “Who…?”

The man didn’t reply, just let out a low growl as he stepped in front of her, eyes scanning the path ahead. Around them, a wind picked up a flurry of leaves, swirling them up in the air like a tornado. In the middle, a figure appeared, snarling at them from the shadows. It lunged toward them, moving to strike, and Alec moved without thinking, putting herself between the man and the figure. She stomped her feet on the ground, and countered the wind with her own, whipping around them in a protective barrier. Her arms outstretched, she grunted as the figure pushed back, but with one more burst of magic from somewhere deep inside her, she sent it flying into the shadows again.

Shrieking, the creature readied another attack. “You can’t run from me forever!”

She wasn’t going to be able to push back against the next attack, she was sure. Before she could worry about what to do, the man grabbed her hand and started tugging her away.

“This way, hurry.”

She tried not to think about the blood staining her hand and just held onto his for dear life, Inanna running alongside her. Her eyes caught on a charm dangling in the branches of a tree; one of Asra’s charms. She had watched him make it. The charm signaled the beginning of a path, and as she looked over her shoulder, the figure chasing them lurched to a painful stop once it reached the path. Writhing in rage, the figure let out one more horrible scream that echoed through Alec’s bones as they continued to run, leaving it behind.

Alec felt a small bit of relief as they reached another small clearing, but the weight of the man now leaning on her made it so she couldn’t relax just yet. Inanna led her forward to a hut that she had no time to look over, only stumbling inside once the door was open, breathing heavy as the door swung shut behind them.

****

Struggling to catch her breath, she helped the man to the ground, where he let out a low groan of pain, leaning his head against the wall. Anxious, she looked him over, her hands still outstretched and trembling. Cracking his eyes open, he summoned a deep breath to speak.

“…Thank you. Now go away.”

She blinked. Go… back outside? When that thing was still out there? How would she make it back to the city without it catching her?

Inanna nudged her leg, shocking Alec out of her spiraling thoughts, and she watched as the wolf sat pointedly in front of the door, anchoring herself in place. She let out a small laugh, and heard the man grumble from next to her.

“Fine. Stay until you catch your breath. Then leave.”

Nodding, Alec slid down the wall next to Inanna, burying her hands and face in the wolf’s soft fur. There was something painfully familiar and comforting about the feeling of being enveloped in her fur, and Alec let out a shaking breath, feeling her body start to slowly calm down.

When she could speak again, she peeked out from Inanna’s fur to look at the man again. “Um… what was that thing chasing us?”

“No one.” His answer came quickly and in a gruff voice. Alec knew he wasn’t going to give her any more information, but just that information surprised her. He said no one. So that thing, that creature, it was someone, once.

Quietly, she pulled her head up a little more, and Inanna settled into her lap. She looked around the hut for the first time since coming inside. It was simple and warm, a fireplace crackling in the far corner. The hut seemed to have only the barest of necessities, very different from her crowded shop, but somehow it still felt comfortable. Like home. She sighed softly. It must be from the protection charms. Asra’s charms. The ones that saved them.

Glancing back at the man, she watched his chest rise and fall, breath stuttering in his lungs, clearly still in pain. Biting her lip, she spoke again. “What’s your name?”

“Why?” The way he looked at her made her feel like she should be afraid of him. But she wasn’t. Maybe because he had helped her, or because he was clearly Asra’s friend.

“So… I know what to call you.”

“Just don’t call me anything.”

Alec frowned; her eyebrows knit together. “I could just call you Asra’s big, weird friend in the woods, but I’d rather not.”

A surprised snort escaped the man, and just as quickly as she heard it, he groaned in pain again. She waited, and once the pain seemed to pass, he looked over at her again from under his dark shaggy hair. “…Muriel.”

She nodded. “Hello, Muriel. I’m Alec.”

He almost rolled his eyes. “I know who you are.”

Anxiety shot through Alec’s heart again, and she gripped Inanna’s fur tightly in her fingers. “Oh.” No wonder he didn’t seem to like her. She must have known him before her accident and now… even a man living alone in the woods would have heard about her memory loss, she assumed. “I’m… sorry. I don’t remember you.”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Before she could respond, he stood up, clearly done talking. Where he was sitting, there was a small pool of blood, and Alec gasped, shooting upright. Inanna whined as she was disrupted from Alec’s lap, and Muriel flinched, looking startled.

“W-we need to get you fixed up.”

“I can do it myself.” Muriel started to pull away, but Alec held her hands out in front of her.

“No! Let me help you, please.”

He stared at her, and Alec was afraid he’d refuse her again, afraid she’d have to try and make him let her help. But then, he sighed, shoulders slumping. “Fine. I’ll get the supplies.” He tried to push himself away from the wall, but stumbled. Alec caught him, her arms around his waist, shoulder propping him up.

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look up at him. “I said I’d help. That means you need to take it easy.”

His body felt stiff under her touch, but he didn’t argue, and she led him to a small stool to sit on while she searched the hut for any supplies to use. After finding a bucket of water and a clean rag, she went back over to him, kneeling in front of him as she soaked the rag and held it up to his skin.

He pulled back. “What are you doing?”

“I have to clean the blood off of you to see what we’re dealing with.” When he tried to take the rag from her, she frowned, pulling it away from his reach. “What did I just say before? You need to take it easy.”

Mirroring her frown, he grumbled at her. “I can do it.”

She held his glare this time, and shook her head. “No, you can’t. Now, sit still. The sooner I can get this done, the better.”

His frown didn’t waver, but he relaxed slightly, and turned his head away. Gently, she slid the cloak from his shoulders. He shivered then forced himself still, staring at the wall and ignoring her, his blush reaching down to his shoulders. She decided to push forward, carefully wiping his skin clean.

She bit back a gasp as the blood was wiped away, his skin covered in scars. Many of them seemed to be years old, deep, not properly healed. Worrying her lip as she continued to pass the rag over his skin, she thought about her own scars, the dozen or so of which she had no idea where they came from. Where had his scars come from?

What happened to him?

As she placed her hand over a knotted mass of scar tissue, she could feel how tense he was under her touch. With most of his skin clean, she could see that he thankfully wasn’t seriously wounded; there was just a single deep wound on his side. She continued to clean, but spoke softly.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Startled, Muriel turned his head to look at her, and she could see in his eyes that he was calculating what to say to her. Eventually, he settled on a quiet, “I know.”

Questions pressed at the roof of her mouth, begging to be released. But she was afraid he wouldn’t answer, even more afraid that he’d push her away and she wouldn’t be able to help him. So, instead she just swallowed them down and continued to clean the blood away from the wound.

This time, he seemed less tense, and she could feel him watching her as she finished cleaning his skin. But when she sat back to study him and make sure she hadn’t missed anything, he was staring down at the wound on his side, upset.

“Is it bothering you?” That was a dumb question to ask, she thought, as soon as it left her mouth. Of course, the open wound was bothering him.

His eyes flickered to hers, clearly fighting with himself on whether to humor her or not. But she wasn’t expecting him to sigh and nod. “It’s… going to scar.”

“You don’t like your scars.” It was more of a statement than a question, a familiar ache tugging at her chest.

Shoulders tensed; Muriel went quiet. For a moment, Alec was ready to accept that she had overstepped, and he didn’t want to talk about it, or anything, with her anymore. But then he answered, his gaze hard at the ground. “They scare people.”

Alec set the rag down in the bucket, reaching out to place her hand on the knotted scar she paused on before. “They don’t scare me.” He looked up at her, frowning, and she pulled her hand back. “I just… I mean… Scars don’t make someone scary. But I get not liking them. I hate my own.”

Confusion showed on his face before he could hide it. “Your… own?”

She nodded, and put her hand over her side, just under her rib cage. “I have a lot of them, but this one… It looks like something I should have died from. But someone saved me. Or maybe I did it myself. I don’t know.” She sighed. “And that’s the problem. I don’t know. Scars… they tell a story on everyone. But I don’t know my own story. And I hate it.”

Muriel didn’t answer her, and when she looked back up at him, his gaze was dark and distant, like he was remembering something unpleasant. She waited, but when it seemed like he wasn’t going to add anything else to the conversation, she sighed, feeling a little embarrassed by her confession.

“I’m… um, I’m going to close the wound now.”

Only once he nodded did she move to put her hand over the wound. She closed her eyes, and tried to even out her breathing. Asra had taught her to patch small wounds and scrapes as soon as she got her magic back, in case he was gone one day and she was injured, but this was bigger than anything she had practiced on before. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she could do it, especially without him.

But then she thought about the scar on her side. If she had healed that herself, that meant that she was still capable of doing it. Asra was always telling her to trust her magic to come to the surface on its own instead of trying to pull it up, and she trusted him.

She focused all of her energy into healing the wound on Muriel’s side, and heard him let out a low groan as the skin stitched itself together. Her eyes fluttered open, and she hesitantly pulled her hand from his side, only to see the wound healed, just a pale scar in its place.

“I did it,” she breathed, relief flooding over her. No sooner had the words left her lips than she was falling forward, into Muriel’s chest. She felt his hands on her shoulders, steadying her, but she was already slipping from pure exhaustion. The last thing she saw was his face, green eyes wide with concern, and then she fell into a deep sleep.

****

Alec woke up slowly, feeling disoriented. The ceiling above her wasn’t from her room in the shop, or any room in the shop, for that matter, and it wasn’t the ceiling of the palace either. Groaning, she sat up, and jumped as a wolf padded over to her, tail wagging.

Hesitantly, she reached out to pat its head, and it huffed happily, plopping into her lap. That, at least, was familiar. She remembered going to her shop, finding the wolf covered in blood, following it into the forest, and then… what happened then?

As she continued to wake up, she noticed a giant figure on the other side of the hut, and her heart started to race. With the weight of the wolf on her lap, she couldn’t move. But the wolf wasn’t reacting in any way to the man as he turned towards her, holding a plate of what looked like eggs, with a guilty look on his face.

“You’re awake.”

She swallowed, panic rising. “Um… wh-who…?”

He frowned, setting the plate down on a small table. Rummaging around a small shelf, he pulled out a satchel of herbs, and walked over to her, arm outstretched. Slowly, she took it from him, holding it to her chest. The scent of myrrh started to clear her senses, and she took a deep breath, feeling as if a fog was lifted from her brain.

Immediately, she remembered everything. Her eyes flew open. “Muriel?”

He nodded, turning back to sit at the table.

“I forgot you. I-I’m sorry, it’s never happened like that before—”

“It wasn’t your fault.” He sighed, as if it pained him to explain. “It’s a spell. People look away from me, and they forget.”

A shiver went down Alec’s spine. She had never heard of that kind of spell. For a moment, she was elated. There was a spell that might solve all of her problems of being recognized. But her joy was quickly erased by the feeling of emptiness that she was all too familiar with. Clutching the satchel, she looked up at him, worried. “Will it happen again?”

“Not if you keep that pouch on you. The myrrh helps.”

“Oh, good.” She relaxed, and started to gently pry her legs from under Inanna, who grumbled in her sleep as she was moved. “I… I don’t like forgetting things, or people.” As she made her way to join him at the table, she gave him a small, teasing smile. “Even big, weird friends of Asra.”

He blushed, and Alec couldn’t bite back a giggle. “What—I—you know what, I changed my mind. You can’t have any eggs. Go away.”

With no real threat in his voice, Alec shifted closer to him, and finally looked at the plate of eggs in front of her. “You made these for me?” He only blushed deeper, glancing pointedly away from her. She smiled, pulling the plate across the table to start eating.

As she ate, she looked around the hut again, trying to make sure it was committed to memory. It was a curious place, and Muriel was a curious man. Out here alone, with just Inanna and the forest for company. Well, and Asra, she supposed. She wondered how many times Asra had visited him in the past few years. Maybe that was why he didn’t like her, maybe Asra hadn’t been coming around to visit Muriel because he was busy watching over Alec. That thought made her stomach twist uncomfortably, and she paused in her eating, looking at him.

He startled when he caught her staring, frowning at her. “What.”

She shrugged, setting her fork down. “I want to know more about you.”

“Why?”

“Because. You’re Asra’s friend. And because you’re the first person I’ve been able to talk to like this in…” She hesitated, thinking back to how anxious she was at the palace. She had appreciated the company of Portia, but there was an awful feeling of being out of place that hung over her head while she was there. Not here. She felt safe here. “…well, a while.”

He seemed to relax just a little, his eyes studying her. His voice was just as gruff as ever when he spoke. “What kind of things do you want to know?”

Alec hadn’t actually expected him to agree. “What… um, what’s your favorite color?”

He stared blankly at her. “What.”

“Your favorite color. What is it?” She leaned forward a little, tugging at her dupatta. “Mine is pink. Or gold. I have a hard time choosing.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Oh, come on. Everyone has one.” She sat back, narrowing her eyes at him. “It doesn’t even have to be your favorite, just a color that you gravitate towards.”

“I don’t have one,” he repeated, but Alec waited. He stared furiously at the wall for a few long moments, before finally admitting, “green. It’s… okay, I guess.”

She smiled, leaning back towards him. “Green is a lovely color. I think it suits you.”

“Whatever.” His cheeks flushed, and her smile only grew.

“Do you have… a favorite flower?”

Much to her surprise, a small smile graced Muriel’s lips at the question, before she could even offer her own answer. He nodded slowly and retrieved a tiny, delicate flower from a pouch on his waist. It was dried and pressed, and a pale periwinkle color. He held it carefully between his fingers and gazed at it with something close to fondness glimmering in his mossy eyes before holding it out to Alec, placing it in the palm of her hand.

Gently, she traced the edge of her nail over the petals, studying it closely. “Forget-me-nots?”

“They feel….” He shook his head as he searched for the word, before finally coming up short. “I don’t know, I just like them.”

He took the flower back before she could look at it any longer, but she just nodded. “I get it. I like the bird of paradise flowers, but there aren’t ever any here, in Vesuvia. I’ve only ever seen them in books… that I remember anyway. But they feel… familiar.” She glanced up at him, giving him an embarrassed smile. “It’s weird, I guess.”

He didn’t answer, watching her with the same distant and slightly sad look from before.

She toyed with her fork for a moment before deciding to ask her last question. “Are you… alone out here?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” She couldn’t imagine being alone like he was and enjoying it. Every time Asra left, she would feel unimaginably lonely, like she wasn’t meant to be on her own that way.

Unsurprisingly, he shook his head. “No. Besides.” She caught the glimpse of annoyance in his eyes. “You’re here right now. So, I’m not alone.”

“Oh.” She glanced down at the table, her cheeks burning. “I… I can leave if you want.”

He was quiet, and she thought he was going to agree. Then he sighed. “You don’t need to do that.” Surprised, she looked up at him, and he flustered, looking away from her. “Finish your eggs.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she turned back to her plate. That was when she realized that Muriel didn’t have any food for himself, just watching her eat. “Did you… give me your eggs?”

He flushed deeper, and frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I take it back. Don’t you have anything more important to do or something?”

She was about to laugh when she remembered that he was right. Her face went pale and she stood up, pushing away from the table. “Julian. I’m supposed to be looking for Ju—Dr. Devorak.”

“Him…?” Muriel frowned, standing up as well. “Why are you looking for him?”

The tone of his face made her pause, and she wrung her hands in front of her anxiously. “Well, the Countess… um, Nadia, she wanted me to question him. About the murder of Count Lucio.”

“What would he know about that?”

“Wh—he confessed. To killing the Count? We’re trying to find out if it’s true.”

Muriel let out a sound like a snort, and her eyes widened. “What an idiot. He confessed to something he didn’t do.”

Alec’s stomach swooped, first in relief and then in dread. “What do you mean?”

“He was locked up in the dungeons that entire night. He couldn’t have killed Lucio.”

“What?” She sat back down, legs feeling weak. “But if he didn’t… who did? He was our only lead, he confessed. Who could have killed the Count?”

He shrugged, looking down at her. “I don’t know. Go into the forest and ask him.”

Alec’s voice sounded far away when she spoke. “I… I don’t understand.”

“That… thing, in the woods. The creature that attacked us. That’s all that’s left of Lucio.”

That creature… was Lucio? Now that she wasn’t running for her life, Alec thought back to the creature, to its horrid appearance. A twisted, goatlike thing, that reminded her too much of the discomforting painting in Nadia’s dining hall. And red eyes that glowed like hot coals, no, like a roaring fire. Her head hurt, and she winced, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“Th-that’s Lucio? How?”

Muriel reached out towards her hesitantly, then stopped. “... I don’t know. I don’t know what happened to him. But if he’s dead, he’s doing a bad job.”

Another time, Alec might have laughed at that. But she couldn’t shake the awful sense of foreboding off of her shoulders, the prickling feeling on her spine. If that really was the Count, he had been existing in that form for the last three years. And he was angry. She believed in vengeful spirits, wholeheartedly, she just never expected to be on the other end of one’s vengeance.

Slowly, she rose to her feet again. “We need to tell Nadia everything. Everything about Julian, and about Lucio’s ghost.”

Muriel made no attempt to move, looking very much like he’d rather sink into the floor and cease to exist. “You’d better get going then.”

“No, Muriel, please.” Alec walked around the table, closer to him, but he backed up. “You’re a witness, I need you to come with me and talk to her.”

The frown on his dace only deepened. “I didn’t ask to be.”

I didn’t ask for any of this, she wanted to say, but all that came out of her mouth was a gasp before the door of the hut flung open, a figure panting heavily.

Alec’s heart soared when she realized who it was; Asra, looking very worried and disheveled. “Muriel, I need your help—our shop—”

Before he even finished speaking Alec was running over to him, wrapping him in a warm hug. “Asra!” She buried her face in his shoulder, fighting back tears as she held him.

“Allie! You’re alright.” He hugged her back quickly before pulling away to look between her and Muriel. “When I saw the blood in the shop I thought… but how did you get here?”

She glanced back at Muriel, and then frowned at Asra. “I think you have more explaining to do than I do right now.”

He sighed, shutting the door behind him. “I suppose you’re right.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #muriel #Muriel the arcana #muriel of the kokhuri #asra #asra alnazar #daniverse fic #apprentice alec #Alec al-saleh

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falcemartello · 2 years

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•••

Oggi è il compleanno di Assange.

La sua prigionia è la nostra, ed è la prova del regime in cui ci troviamo.

Ogni giornalista che non spende parole per lui fa parte del sistema.

Non abbiamo bisogno di altre prove.

Enzo Pennetta

-----

BUON COMPLEANNO EROE

Oggi Assange compie 51 anni. Come ormai da troppo tempo, da troppi anni, non ci sarà nulla da festeggiare.

Ci sarà invece da fare l'ennesimo funerale alla tanto sbandierata Democrazia Occidentale.

Julian sta per essere trasferito nelle carceri statunitensi. E come al solito nessuno sembra interessarsene.

Julian poteva e doveva essere salvato. Julian doveva e poteva essere protetto. Julian andava a tutti i costi tutelato.

Sarebbe bastato poco, veramente poco. Sarebbe bastato il costante ed incessante grido di allarme e di protesta di un'intera categoria: quella dei suoi colleghi.

E invece nessuno - tranne poche, pochissime mosche bianche - ha avuto il coraggio di denunciare, di opporsi a quest’atroce e indegna ingiustizia.

E pensare che i giornalisti dovrebbero essere proprio coloro i quali denunciano le trame del Potere, coloro i quali si battono per la Verità, coloro i quali si ergono a baluardo della Democrazia.

Solo dove c'è libertà di stampa ci può essere democrazia. Lottare per Julian vuol dire lottare per noi stessi, per la nostra libertà.

Invece purtroppo troppi - quasi tutti - si sono piegati a questa barbarie.

Troppi sono stati supini, proni ai diktat del potere.

L'informazione MAINSTREAM rappresenta la quintessenza del potere. �� il braccio armato della PROPAGANDA. Lo abbiamo visto in questi ultimi due anni in maniera palese e cristallina.

Il nostro dovere è quello di continuare a batterci per Julian senza arrenderci a questo sistema di cose che, per quanto radicato, può essere sconfitto.

Onore ad Assange, buon compleanno Julian.

Francesco Centineo

Pro Italia Torino

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whaleswagbracket · 1 year

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ROUND TWO

[ID: A photo of a spinner dolphin breaching and a photo of two dusky dolphins, with a VS symbol between them. End ID.]

The spinner dolphin just barely kept its place in the competition, on the strength of its impressive acrobatics, but how will it fare against the dusky dolphin?

Photo credit to Julian Tyne and the NOAA.

#polls

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redcasper · 18 days

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I don't want to come off as rude and I deeply apologize if I do, I'm not meaning to come off as "your interruptions are wrong and you should feel bad". This is just gonna be my own personal thoughts. On that note I'm not gonna pretend I know even 50% of The Arcane lore other than Julian's route and small notes of the others. However, I do know a decent amount about Soul Eater. I'll warn rn, I'll get into stuff like Julian's low self esteem it will be marked in read incase you want to skip to the more light-hearted part.

I don't think there can ever be enough [x fandom] but it's weapons and meisters!Aus. And those are different from [x fandom] but you assign the characters in soul eater to [x fandom] characters. However, I remember in a rare blue [hehe paper] moon, stumbling upon a Julian and Asra fanart but: it was Julian as Maka and Asra as Soul. It was really cute and I liked it alot actually, and there has been an image where the roles were reversed. I could get into who I personally think they be instead of Maka and Soul (tho I understand it has become a thing to put your preferred pairing as the two.) But that's not what I'm here to argue about.

No no. My beef/nsrs is with Julian being a meister. That man. Genuinely truily. In my heart-est of heart, I'd plead my case in front of a judge. Julian Devorak, would not be a minister.

And here's why I think he wouldn't be.

I wanna say; I know he's smart. He's very smart, he's a very educated man. He could pry handle taking calls to action. But I think he'd fare much better having a partner to wield him. He'd also, as a weapon, be meant to take and block hits. Julian, in being a weapon, would flow naturally in the [at least taught] ideal of being a weapon. On the battlefield you are supposed to protect your meister while they weld you and use you to slay your enemies. I also want to plead the idea, that either way of him being a weapon or meister, I think he would work along with mc [keep this in mind, i will bring it back up].

Julian would look cool fighting with a weapon. I understand 100% where someone might come from when putting Julian in Maka's role. Though I think it’d make a bit more sense for him to be in Soul’s role. While Soul is more focused on just doing what he has to [and being cool], he’s more then willing to give up his life for his meister, for better for worse. In the Soul Eater manga [I am staring at it as we speak] Soul is taking hits and says, "Don't worry about me. I'm prepared to die for my meister." While I can see Julain doing that, I can’t see him being comfortable putting someone in that position. And I will relent, I can see the interest in going the meister route for that reasoning. Putting him in a role where he has to make that choose and grow to be more accepting that he also needs help and, as miester, needs to be defended. But I think you can also do that with putting him in the weapons role. Imagine someone engrained in that mindset, viewing themselves as a living shield and in soem way actually being that, learning that they’re more then that and deserve to be seen as important. There is also another reason as to why I don’t think it’d be the best for him to be the miester From what I can recall of the arcana, in Julain’s route, he eventually [and for a short period of time] breaks it off with mc. The wiki says [since I have shit memory] that “he is a disaster waiting to happen and that he doesn't want that disaster to happen to you [mc]”. Having that mindset with your weapon would be terrible and I can only see it being worsened by 3 big factors. 1. It’s normal to have your weapon take the brunt of the attacks but you’re also meant to be leveled enough in battle to guide them properly attack. If he is constantly worrying about MC getting hurted in battle- he just wouldn’t be able to wield them properly. 2. Alot of the main cast [weapons and meisters alike] face up against ‘madness', this heightens those fears. I do not think he would survive with the meister position and then his fear being at an all time high, I think he’d fold in on himself if that were the case. Not to mention if it’s to the point where he’d feel overwhelmed to where he’d have to leave, that would cause such a huge obstacle in what’s called ‘matching wavelengths’. If your soul can not work together with your partner- then you just can’t wield them

Last reason- a lighter reason. I just think he'd look cooler-, I'm finally showing my biases. I think weapons are just cooler. And I know "How could anything other then a dude in a plague doctor mask beating mad ass be cooler"? To which I have to say. It just is. Imagine- the possibilities of what weapons could be would be endless. You could do medieval weapons of that plague doctor time era, or torture devices- there is literally a guy who is a GULLIATION [that guy is my pfp btw]. And imagine the humor, look me in my eyes 👁️👁️and tell me he wouldn't make it so gay if mc was wielding him. It'd just be so good in a comical sense.

I'm not even gonna touch on how I think him a Portia both being weapons and how that would play out would cool too. Cus. If I were to put him in any sort of arc, I pry wouldn't go for maka or soul. I'd go for Liz [but that's neither here nor there]. I could go into how cool witch soul Asra would me. I might just go all out with this sorta thing cus I'm normal about Soul Eater and not crawling up the walls of my enclosure with excitement about how many ideas of this au I have. And now that I can read route summaries I am unstoppable.

#pmsing so hard #but this is bringing me joy #i feel cured of all my aliments just by typing all this #the arcana #the arcana au #the arcana modern au #the arcana julian #julian devorak #soul eater #soul eater au #the arcana!soul eater au #🦞🩸my rambling

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bakuliwrites · 2 years

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Adore- Lucio Morgasson x Reader

Rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Fandom: The Arcana

Relationship: Lucio Morgasson x Reader (Background Julian x Lucio x Reader)

Summary: As the years go by, Lucio begins to wonder if he's really changed all that much, or if he's still just some washed-up former-ruler with a past full of regrets. You help to reassure him and show him just how much he is loved. Post-route au where Lucio ends up working for the palace in some capacity.

Read here in this post or over on my AO3

Lucio’s Perspective

Lucio watches from the corner booth as Julian makes his rounds, greeting each and every patron in the bustling Rowdy Raven. His pale eyes track as the good doctor makes toasts, roars with laughter, and chatters away, both with the regulars and the newcomers. Lucio can't comprehend how Julian does it, how he can be so personable, how everyone seems to like him so much. He understands it on a personal level: Julian is kind, he's outgoing, funny, and over the top.

But when he compares himself to Julian, he doesn’t get it. Lucio can be those things too, he thinks; but, he doesn't seem to have achieved anything close to the admiration that Julian has. In fact, he isn’t sure he has much of any admiration at all from the people of Vesuvia. Once upon a time, he had believed that everyone loved him. Clearly, from the withering glares and harsh whispers he continues to receive upon entering a room, that had been a delusion of the highest order.

You have all the bravado, but none of the charm, a venomous thought whispers in Lucio’s mind, The people will never love you like they love Julian. He pushes it away, trying to focus now on the raucous cheering of his fellow bar mates as Julian starts to re-enact some sea-faring brawl he’d been involved in. It's a story he’s probably told this crowd a thousand times over, but they never seem to grow tired of it. His gangly arms fling wildly around as he swishes an invisible sword through the air and leaps from table to table. The auburn-haired rogue meets Lucio’s eyes briefly and flashes a brilliant smile before turning back to playing pretend. Lucio tries smiling back, but all he really achieves is a tragic pout.

On their walk back home, Lucio catches a glimpse of his reflection along the surface of one of the canals. He's striking, but now that he's in his mid-40’s, he's starting to feel- well, older. Each day he discovers new strands of silvery hair amongst his blonde ones. Crow's feet crinkle the corners of his eyes when he smiles. Is he turning into some washed-up, old has-been? Is that how he is to spend the rest of his life? He’s found love and he's beyond grateful for that. However, the sinking feeling of regret gnaws at his heart. Here he is, wandering the Vesuvian streets, nearing mid-life with nothing to show for it, except a string of massive, massive mistakes. The only person he can blame is himself.

Julian has wandered on ahead of him, not realizing Lucio has paused to stare forlornly into the water. When he eventually notices that he accidentally abandoned the man, he rushes back to retrieve him. Spotting the dejected look on Lucio’s face, he slings an arm around his shoulder.

“Come on, old boy,” Julian speaks quietly, flashing him a sympathetic smile, “Let’s get you home.”

Lucio knows he hadn’t meant anything by, “old boy.” It’s just what Julian has started affectionately calling him. It stings Lucio, nonetheless. Their walk home is filled with the warbling sound of Julian’s singing, mostly jaunty sea-shanties in an attempt to cheer Lucio up. By the time they return to the castle, all of the lights are out and the halls are as silent as a tomb. Entering the bedroom, Lucio spots y/n in their shared bed, sleeping soundly. He beams softly at the sight of the open book at her side, evidence of her valiant attempt to stay up until the two of them returned home.

Lucio watches as Julian carefully picks up the book and sets it on the bedside table, planting a gentle kiss on the top of y/n’s head as he does so. As stealthily as possible so as not to wake her, both men crawl into bed, nestling themselves beside their beloved, who sighs contentedly in her slumber. Lucio falls asleep to the sound of hers and Julian’s combined breathing. His dreams that night are troubled.

***

MC's Perspective

Ever since Lucio and Julian had returned from the Rowdy Raven last night, the former-count has seemed rather morose. He's spent the better half of the day sulking on the veranda, staring out at the gardens with a glazed look in his eyes. You’d tried to rouse Lucio with the promise of baked goods and even an outing to his favorite shops while the two of you wait for Julian to return from work, but nothing seems to get through to him. All he does is smile sorrowfully and respond with what essentially boils down to a, “Thanks, but no thanks.” By mid-afternoon, you're starting to feel the effects of his melancholic demeanor seeping into your own thoughts. You leave Lucio where he stands statuesque on the veranda, thinking he might be in need of some quiet introspection while you treat yourself to a warm bath.

Sinking into the bubbles, you sigh with content. One of your favorite things about the palace is your private, Roman style bath. It's massive and set in-ground in your bathroom. The tiles are peach with an inlay of gold and a crystal chandelier twinkles like starlight above you. Today, you've filled your bath with jasmine-scented soaps and some of Julian’s bath salts from Nevivon. Immediately, you feel your body relax in the warmth of the water. Your thoughts calm, turning swiftly from woe to tranquility.

You've hardly been in the tub for long when the door to your bathroom creaks open and in shuffles your dispirited darling. Despite Lucio’s wallowing, he's still dressed to the nines in a crisp white blazer, furs thrown over his shoulder, and hair immaculately slicked back. He retains a few of his medals, but has opted to wear fewer over the years, which you take as a sign of his growing humility.

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbles, eyes downcast as he backs out of the room, “I didn’t realize you were in here.”

This is the most pathetic you've ever seen him. He’s calmed down from his years of throwing temper tantrums, but he's still not above pouting and whining when he's upset. The fact that he's this quiet troubles you greatly.

“Lucio, wait,” you call before he can shut the door again. He stops in the entryway, pouting like a lost puppy. It's truly one of the most tragic sights you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Ever since you two returned from the Raven last night, you’ve seemed rather blue,” you go on, gesturing for him to come sit at the water’s edge, “What’s wrong, my love?”

Lucio frowns as he lowers himself to the ground before you, wary not to sit in any of the water that has splashed up onto the tile. He fiddles with one of the medals on his sash for a moment before finally speaking.

“You’re going to think I’m being ridiculous,” he confesses, doing everything in his power not to make eye contact with you.

“Nonsense,” you scoff, frowning at the implication, “Whatever it is that’s bothering you is important to me. Even if you feel like it’s something ‘ridiculous,’ I can assure you, it probably isn’t.”

He peeks at you, his eyes piercing and sharp brows furrowed with worry. He seems to contemplate your words for a moment, almost as if he's debating whether or not he believes you. You reach out and grasp his hand in yours, smoothing your thumbs over the cool, gilded metal.

“I promise, my darling. I won’t find it ridiculous,” you reassure, placing a gentle kiss on the back of Lucio’s hand. His cheeks turn pink, lips pursing and brows knitting together even more. He glances away sheepishly before sighing and giving in to your assurances.

“I’m getting older. That’s no secret,” he begins, combing through his hair with his fingers, a disgusted look on his face when he plucks out one of the silvery strands, “I’m going gray. I’m getting those- those feet in the corners of my eyes!”

“Crows feet?” you offer, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah, those,” Lucio exclaims with a grimace, “I’m healthy, thank goodness. But I just can’t help but feel like- well, what have I been doing my whole life? I feel-” He looks down at his lap, eyes distant.

“I feel washed up,” he almost whispers, “I used to throw these magnificent parties. I was surrounded by people all the time. And now I realize that none of that really meant anything. All those people I thought adored me, were laughing at me behind my back. And I deserved it.

“So when I see Julian at the Raven, acting all chummy with everyone, it makes me feel- jealous ,” he confesses, frowning with this last word, as if he's embarrassed to admit his feelings aloud. But you know it isn’t the jealousy he's embarrassed about. No, you sense that it's actually the fact that Lucio admires Julian. Julian has always been a man of the people, and Lucio, given his past, probably never will be. He can try to make amends, sure. But Vesuvia will always be wary of him. Nevertheless, it's a huge deal for the former ruler of the city to admit such a thing to you.

“Why do you feel jealous?” you venture, knowing the answer already. Lucio looks away in discomfort. He wears that little scowl he always gets when he has to admit that he's wrong about something, lips screwed up and brows knit together. The man is a vault when it comes to his emotions. A vault both because he isn’t always especially in tune with them, and then when he is, he struggles to convey them. You can hear the gears turning in his brain, desperately working to come up with something to say.

Suddenly, his face shifts from frustrated to morose, his features wilting like a flower in the desert heat. You find yourself holding your breath, anticipating his next words as if they are a fragile vase teetering on the edge of a table, seconds away from shattering into pieces on the ground beneath.

“It’s just that,” he begins quietly, pale eyes sweeping back to look down at where you rest in the water, “I watch Julian with everyone and wonder how it is he can be so- loved. By practically everyone he meets. On paper, aren’t we the same? Devilishly handsome, devastatingly funny? Debonair and brash?” He speaks this last part with a flourish, his mood seeming to brighten for a moment, before he realizes maybe now is not the time for jokes. His face falls when you remain silent, staring expectantly up at him.

“And then I realize,” he goes on, looking down at his hands with haunted eyes, as if they are still freshly stained by his atrocities, “maybe I am jealous. Or maybe, it’s something deeper than that. Something much more personal. Maybe, underneath all of who I’ve become, I’m still just the same horrible person I was before I met you. And perhaps that’s the reason people don’t seem to connect with me like they do him.”

You're absolutely floored. That was not the response you’d been expecting. Well, you know that's probably why Lucio has been so glum about the whole situation, but you hadn’t realized that Lucio knows that's why he's glum. It takes you a moment to process before you can respond.

“My regret follows me like the plague did,” Lucio whimpers, tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks, “I don’t know if I can ever make up for what I’ve done. I don’t know that anyone can love me like they love Julian.” You press another tender kiss to the back of his hand, giving yourself time to collect your thoughts and really think about what you want to say.

“Lucio, you and Julian are two completely different people,” you explain gently, still recovering from Lucio’s bombshell of an admission, “You might share some qualities, but you’re not the same. And you’re right, Julian does connect with people a lot easier than you do. If I’m being honest with you, you still sometimes come across as a bit arrogant.” Lucio opens his mouth to say something no doubt snarky in return, but you hush him with a stern look.

“Before you say anything, let me finish,” you request, holding a hand up to silence him, “Now, you’ve softened a lot over these last few years. You’ve changed a lot, Lucio. Yeah, you’ve made a lot of really horrible choices in the past. I’m not going to sit here and make excuses for you. But what I will say- What I can confirm, is that you aren’t the person you once were. If you were, Julian and I wouldn’t be married to you. And Nadia wouldn��t have given you the diplomatic position you have now. Which you earned, by the way, with your hard work.

“You’ve tried to make amends with the people that you’ve wronged. You’ve done a lot of good for Vesuvia in these last few years,” you reason, sitting up a little straighter in the now tepid water, “But it’s taken you years to overcome your flaws. And it’ll take the people of Vesuvia years to accept that you’ve overcome them. Some of them may never accept that, which you'll have to learn to be okay with. But I hope you know that you should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished in this journey. I’m proud of you.

“And, as for you getting older,” you continue on, chuckling a bit, “Everyone’s getting older! You’d be washed up if you were still that petulant, scared little boy trapped in a grown man’s body. But you’re not. You’re helping people now, instead of hurting them. Each day, I can see the effort you put in, trying to be better, trying to right your wrongs. I think that’s really admirable.”

He stares blankly at you for a moment, disbelief painting his countenance. You raise yourself up from the water, just enough so you can reach his lips and press yours softly against them.

“Here in the sanctity of this home, amongst us, you’re very loved. You know that?” you remind him with a small smile, locking eyes with him.

Lucio stares at you in shock for a moment, lips parted ever so slightly and eyes glittering in the subdued light. And then the floodgates break and he's in your arms, shuddering breaths barely managing to escape his chest, warm tears pooling in the crook of your neck. He doesn’t even seem to care that you're getting soap and water all over his blazer. He presses himself so close to you, grasping desperately at your form, as if terrified to let go.

After what feels like a while of him sobbing into your shoulder while you rub comforting circles on his back trying to calm him down, Lucio draws back for air. He cups each side of your face and caresses his thumbs along your cheeks. The sheer force of his feelings, free now from where he’s kept them pent up inside, brings tears to your own eyes, tears that are quickly swept away by Lucio’s gentle touch. You take this opportunity to kiss away the tears that are streaming down his angular cheeks. He tilts your face so that his lips can connect with yours, softly, at first. But his tongue deftly parts them and before you even know it, he’s stolen your breath away.

Your kisses are urgent, heated and all-consuming. All of Lucio’s emotions come out in a blaze of passion, lips smashing against yours with such ferocity, you know they’ll be bruised when he's done. It doesn’t matter. You're glad he's letting everything out. His hands smooth over your water-slicked curves, massaging as they go, while you busy yourself with ripping off his adornments. He moves his hands for just enough time for you to cast aside his blazer before he dives back in to explore your body. His hands roam eagerly along your skin, pausing only to worship your hips, your breasts, and any other spot he can knead.

Lucio scoots himself to the edge of the bath, dunking his legs in without so much as a thought to the fact that his trousers are now soaked. He never once loses contact with your lips, though now he turns his attention to peppering your jawline and neck with kisses. Your breathing is shallow, erratic as you frantically try to undo the front of his pants.

“Let me help,” he breathes, gently removing your hands from where they're struggling. It takes all of Lucio’s willpower to rip himself away from you in order to slip out of the rest of his clothing. When he returns to you, his mouth envelopes yours again, tongue greedily traversing past your lips. You splay your hands across his smooth chest, feeling his heartbeat flutter wildly under your touch. It's cute, how excited he gets still. You smile against him before he takes one of your hands and begins to lay kisses from your wrist all the way down to your elbow. He starts to shift to get into the bath with you when you grasp his thighs to stop him.

“What are you doing?” he questions, shooting you a perplexed look.

“Can I do something for you?” you request, staring doe-eyed up at him.

Wordlessly, Lucio nods, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with lust. You lower yourself, hands still gripping his thighs as you nip and kiss the insides of them. Lucio’s gasps fill you with an impish glee as you trail your way up towards his stiffened cock, leaving little love bites in your wake. When you reach it, you slowly lick a stripe along his shaft, drawing a constrained keen from him. You swirl your tongue around the pink, swollen tip before taking him in completely. He throws his head back in pleasure as you bob up and down. He moans your name and strings of nearly incomprehensible praise. Lucio bucks his hips into you a few times in his excitement, entirely by accident, but you don’t care.

You bring one hand up to rest on his hip, while the other massages his balls. Lucio’s breathy sighs and needy moans joyously fill your ears.

“Ah,” he whimpers, as you feel his member begin to twitch a bit, the slightest taste of salt hitting your tongue, “So close. I need you.” With this, you release him, his taste still present on your lips as he draws you up to capture them in his. Dexterously, he helps to pull you out of the water and settle you on his lap, hands squeezing your ass as you straddle him. You roll your hips against his, to which Lucio can only mewl in return and grind desperately against you.

“Tell me what you want, my love,” you whisper to him, gently biting his earlobe and tangling your hands in his tousle of blonde hair. He groans as you nip at the sensitive spot below his ear and tease him by swiping the tip of his dick along your wet folds.

“Y-you, my dove,” he manages to speak, voice catching in his throat as you leave your marks along his neck.

“Ask me nicely,” you command, tilting his head so that he faces you, your breath fanning across his lips. It seems to pain him that you're only centimeters apart, lips barely touching.

“P- please,” he whines, trying so very hard not to crash his lips into yours.

“Then you shall have me,” you proclaim, rewarding him with a fervent kiss. With that, you gently push Lucio down so that he's sprawled on the floor, his head resting on the furs he’s long abandoned and his calves still partially submerged in the soapy bath water.

The evening sun pouring in from the stained glass window off to the side catches the strands of Lucio’s disheveled hair, lighting each one like threads of silver and gold. His cheeks are rosy with arousal, painted lightly with his smudged eyeliner, and his lips are crimson from the heat of your passion. When he smiles up at you, the corners of his eyes crinkle joyously. He's an absolute vision, almost angelic despite his sharp features. It's an astounding sight: Lucio bearing himself to you, his emotions raw, his voice silent save the ardent proclamations of his love for you. He’s done away with all of his bravado, let you take the reins and show him how adored he really is by those that truly care about him.

“My Lucio, you are so precious to me,” you hum as you slowly lower yourself onto him, his erection slipping easily into your slick folds. He lets out the most salacious moan you’ve ever heard as his tip hits as deep as it can. You gasp, sensitive already, not realizing how excited you are. While you adjust to his girth, Lucio brings his right hand up to your breast, his left one resting on your hip. He kneads, tweaking and circling as you bounce up and down on him. With each thrust, his cock seems to hit deeper and deeper, electric waves of pleasure surging through you every time.

“You are so loved by us, my Lucio,” you go on when you find the ability to speak again. He gazes adoringly up at you, his lips quirking into a smile.

“I love you, so much, y/n,” he professes, voice husky and low.

“I adore you, my darling,” you breathe.

Before you know it, you're both on your sides, legs tangled around each other, unsure of whether you had repositioned you or Lucio had. Wrapped in each other’s embrace, lips crashing into one another’s, you feel your walls shudder with the imminence of your release. You can feel Lucio’s member quivering within you as you pick up your pace. Panting, breath hot against you, Lucio pulls you in even closer, your body flush against his. Your hips rock together and in that moment, time seems to slow so you can thoroughly cherish every sensation. You bask in the combined heat of your bodies, the floral scent of your perfumed skin, the richness of Lucio’s cologne. His skin is soft under your touch, the metal of his arm cool against you.

To the cries of one another’s names, you both came unraveled. Your nails dig into his back, his nose pressing hard into your shoulder. His ecstasy is yours, and vice-versa. Lucio’s warmth fills you, and you hold him close to keep it in, clinging tightly to one another. As you slowly float down from your high, breathless and fulfilled, you sweep some loose strands of hair out of Lucio’s eyes. When he draws himself out of you, he kisses you deeply, lingering for a while as if to apologize for leaving you empty.

“I love you, very much,” he whispers, lip quivering, “Thank you for believing in me.”

You beam at him. Everyday, you thank your lucky stars that life has brought you to Lucio and Julian. It has taken him a while, but Lucio is certainly proving to you that he can be a better man.

“You’ve come further than you realize,” you reassure. He grins, tears returning to his pale eyes, though not as vigorously as they had earlier.

“I know I’ll never make up for what I did, but thank you for helping me become a better person,” he brings your hand to his lips, closing his eyes as tears fall gently from them.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” you return, wiping them away, “You should just be proud of yourself. And keep striving to always be better.”

“Also,” you add, running your hands through his hair, “for what it’s worth, I think the crinkles by your eyes are quite fetching. And I like your silver hair. You look as dashing as you’ve always looked.”

He waggles his eyebrows at you, about to make some kind of suggestive or otherwise jokingly conceited remark, when you hush him with another kiss. The two of you enjoy some continued moments of silence, savoring one another’s embrace. After a bit, Lucio suggests that perhaps you ought to finish your bath, since he had interrupted.

“Only if you join me,” you bargain, shooting him a coquettish grin. Lucio raises an eyebrow, smiling wickedly.

“Of course,” he growls, seemingly having found his way back to his flirty, brazen self, “How could I resist such an enchanting siren such as yourself?”

With a single touch, you're able to warm the bath again and conjure back some of the bubbles that had fizzled away (magic is truly amazing). As you and Lucio slip into the water, you again hear the bathroom door open. You whirl around just in time to see Julian waltzing in, a mischievous grin spreading across his face when he spots the two of you.

“What’s all this then?” he purrs, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Care to join us for round two, my dear doctor?” Lucio offers, a devilish glint in his eyes. He sinks under the water so only his eyes and nose are peeking out, appearing rather shark-like, an image you can’t help but giggle at. Julian meets Lucio’s predatory gaze with one of equal playfulness.

“It would be my absolute pleasure,” he shoots back with a smirk, tugging off his overcoat and swaggering towards the water.

#the arcana #lucio morgasson #count lucio #lucio x apprentice #lucio x mc #lucio x reader #lemon #my fanfiction #dani writes

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