#which in turn would delight julian

[babygirljulianfawcett]

When Thomas was having his Allison hallucinations, he should have kissed Julian.

#it would have been so funny #it would def ruffle julian's feathers #and thomas would be so horrified later #which in turn would delight julian #bbc ghosts #thomas thorne #julian fawcett #fawthorne but not really #mine

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

For full headcanons: What do you think a lazy day with the M6 would look like? Say that somehow MC and their love interest have a free day all to themselves to just relax.

The Arcana HCs: Lazy Days with M6

Julian

He's been looking forward to this. Did he tell you that he would try to sleep in? Maybe. Does he succeed? Unfortunately not

However, not needing to head straight out the door to the clinic means that you get to sleep in and wake up to the sight of your relaxed doctor leisurely sipping some coffee in bed next to you

As much as Julian savors the delights of domestic life, he's quick to get a little stir crazy. How about an outing together?

For a dramatically roguish nerd like him, an "outing" could mean getting dragged to a leech convention, watching a play, doing something legally not-so-recommended, or visiting a library

Either way, since the point of the day is to be lazy, he's more likely to want to head home come evening rather than stay out

Does he enjoy social time? Sure, but even more than that, he cherishes you. He can meet you for dinner at the tavern any day, but he doesn't get every evening completely free like this

Dinner is peaceful, intimate, and slower than usual because he insists on eating by candlelight which means not being able to see your plate very well

The way his eyes feast on you instead of the meal makes up for it

Asra

Nobody can match this magician when it comes to lazy days

They. Are. Sleeping. In. They aren't even going to think about getting up until the sun is high enough to fill the room with golden light and the street outside your window is bustling with activity

Even then, the tranquility stays. There's no part of the day when the pace picks up. He'll move with you slowly from the bed to the kitchen with a sleepy smile, prioritizing snuggles over cooking

And that's how the day goes - lazing from the cushions to the kitchen for more tea and snacks, trading silly stories and engaging in the occasional tickle/pillow fight between books

Asra will start at least one experimental craft, only to put it down halfway finished because focusing on you is way more enjoyable

Right around sunset, they'll need a change of scenery. That will most likely take the form of taking you by the hand and pulling you into their oasis for some prolonged snuggles and whimsy time

However, being predictably unpredictable, there is the 25% chance that he'll decide he doesn't want to keep a lazy pace all day after all, and pull you out into the darkening streets for an adventure

Either way, it ends back in bed, gazing out the window at the stars

Nadia

Oh, she needs this and she's been planning for it for weeks

Everything is set up ahead of time. All pressing matters have been dealt with, and she's delegated responsibilities so that unless the world starts to end, someone else will have to handle it

She is going to indulge in every relaxing moment she's been putting off and she's going to do it without lifting a finger and you are going to join her for every blissful moment

She rarely has time to sleep in and hold you, so she is taking her fill

Breakfast appears at the door to her chambers when she rings her bell, and after sitting you in her lap and taking turns feeding each other, she's drawing you into her private bath all set up for spa day

With her mind carefully blocked off of work, she'll turn her attentions to you. How have you been doing? What's been on your mind? Tell her something about you she hasn't heard yet ~

Since you can't spend all day in the spa, she does take a couple hours in the afternoon to herself in her tower. Your company is delightful and refreshing, but even she needs a moment alone

Dinner happens on the veranda, just the two of you in a nook hidden from view, lounging on cushions and savoring a slow night

Muriel

Lazy days ... kind of happen whenever one of you needs them to happen. Living self-sustainably in the woods has its perks

At the same time, there's some daily duties that just can't be skipped - feeding the chickens, drawing water, etc

Lazy days are what happens when one of you looks at the other of you and you both know you need a break. A day without all the added routine tasks, a day to just breathe for a little bit

Lazy days start by spending the day before getting ready to rest

Waking up is one quick trip to throw a bucket of feed at the chickens before darting back inside to warm up next to the veritable furnace that Muriel becomes under a blanket

Breakfast happens late, sitting by the fire instead of at the table, slicing the loaf of bread between you as you want more and toasting it idly while Inanna steals the crumbs

If it's a chilly, rainy day, you spend it adding logs to the fire from the pile you built up yesterday and curling up with each other under the furs. On sunny days, you might lie down outside

Maybe you talk, maybe you sleep, maybe you work on a craft - but it passes in peace and quiet and grounded, steadfast love

Portia

Does Portia need a lazy day? YES. Is Portia good at lazy days? Not. At. All.

Sometimes existing in Portia's presence means idly wondering if she subconsciously found the secret to perpetual motion and she's very busy trying not to forget it. She just never stops going!

Lazy days happen when you and the Countess gang up and make sure she has 24 hours of a clear schedule when she's on the verge of burning out and is in desperate need of a reset

The day starts by dragging her back into bed and telling her she's not allowed to make breakfast until she's slept as long as possible

Breakfast itself consists of trying to help her snap out of "work work work must get the next task done" mode while you brew some tea. The most effective way to do so is to put Pepi in her lap

After that, the day is delightful. Spending the rest of the morning and early afternoon lying on a picnic blanket in the garden, reading books and eating snacks and watching Pepi chase butterflies

The evening always involves visiting Mazelinka for family time. (It's also the best way to make sure Portia doesn't have to cook)

And nighttime - nighttime is for fireflies and pillow forts and kisses

Lucio

Lucio likes suggesting lazy days every day

Which means that, when the time does come to have one, the first word out of his mouth is "FINALLY."

He's been ready to take a slow day for weeks!! He needs this!!

Sleeping in is essential. If you try to get him out of bed before noon when there isn't a reason to he will start a riot

Went out the night before and maxed out his budget buying all the pastries on sale at the end of the day. Breakfast consists of him wolfing down sugary flaky dough at 1 PM, without leaving bed

He got them for you too - which is how you're presented with the sight of him beaming, shirtless, sitting in a ray of afternoon light with the sheets rumpled around him as he holds out a bite for you

The sugar high is enough to make him antsy. Yes, this is a lazy day, but lazy days are supposed to be enjoyable, and is a day even enjoyable if you haven't gone out to enjoy yourself?

Luxuriates in taking twice as much time to do his eyeliner

Saunters around the square of wherever you're visiting with your hand in his, pointedly ignoring the board of job requests

Stays up super late to savor every last moment of the day off

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

[vestercorax]

Soft domestic fluff with M6 — Waking Up

Asra

The Shop now opens an hour later.

Yes, that’s a new schedule. Something about different day length, did you know-

No, Faust is not bribed with snaccs, she’s just hanging out on the doorknob, why?

Oh, look how conveniently you are snuggled, now it will be considered a crime to separate yourselves, and you don’t want crimes in your house, do you?

He doesn’t want to hear anything about bribery being considered a crime

Asra really just wants to enjoy every minute you’re together, when nothing is bothering you or demanding immediate attention (which happens all the time, hard magicians’ life)

Mornings are the most suitable time, when you can speak unhurriedly, dream a little and plan your little next week’s adventure

Nadia

Nadia has to wake up early, even on holidays :(

That habit is ingrained so deeply that it is an outright surprise for her if you don’t share it. Everyone rise early to get everything done, no?..

It warms her heart to see you so relaxed and satisfied in your bedchambers like nowhere else

She leaves, but servants are already preparing everything for your awakening

Nadia will make up for all the skipped morning caresses in the afternoon-

Lots of kisses and tea brewed with petals will improve your mood, whichever way you woke up

One day you wake up and first thing you feel is the weight on the other side of the bed

Your eyes fly open just to see Nadia’s ruby ones filled with tenderness and adoration, as she observes you and smiles bright and soft at your expression

Only then you notice the lightest tracing of her elegant fingers caressing your pillow-marked cheek

Julian

Julian is headed straight to work upon waking up

This man’s body wakes up much later than his brain does — it occurs to him it’s time to eat only an hour or two after he dug into his notes

Do you like taking naps? Good

After a brief activity burst (which consist of wolfing down the delicious breakfast you brought him) he is back in bed

No, not a single movement for at least half an hour.

Perharps, besides…

Yeah, pillow fights, sounds incredible

May or may not pretend that you stabbed him with a narrow one to doze off a little

Are deadmen supposed to have such a death grip on their killers, huh?

Portia

Portia is an early bird

The earlier you wake up, the more time there is to get done with work and have fun!

Extremely energetic + wants you besides immediately

Before you know what is going on, she is already straddling you and tickling your sides

She wants to press her nose into yours until you wake up, to peer into your eyes with her bright blue ones. But she just can’t contain her excited giggling at the simple thought of the spooked little jump you’ll definitely make

She’ll get there one morning, don’t even doubt.

If you get too cranky, she will leave you be… for a week at most.

Muriel

Muriel will leave at dawn, desperately trying not to wake you. He doesn’t want to disturb you; it’s his chores after all

He ignores your demands to stop to consider every chore only his own

Will ask Inanna to check on you if he is wandering far into the forest. He knows you will be safe, it’s just… He feels more reassured this way

Congratulations, you are guarded by a big floofy wolf, who thinks to guard = to lie flat on you and sometimes poke her nose in yours

She’s right, honestly

If you are tough enough to sleep through that, prepare for the ultimate attack: breakfast

Riding proudly on the wolf’s back to the kitchen, you are greeted with a “good morning” hum

As you eat half-sleepily, Muriel adoringly studies your face, trying and failing to hide it

His own face turns slightly red, when you try to feed him a little bit of your portion, even though he has already eaten

You succeed.

Lucio

If it was up to him, he would be staying under the covers till the sun has passed its peak

Oh, wait, it is up to him. The deal is sealed then.

And he will be very delighted to have you in his arms

Carefully, you won’t be able to escape after indulging even once. Lazy and long mornings, stretches, laughter and adoring stares… Who would be, honestly?

After crawling out of the bed and eating it’s time to refine your day plans. Ones for evening are the most exciting

After that he will attend to his training

“You want all of me hard as steel, don’t you? ;)”

Will encourage you to join him and will literally beam if you say yes

First headcanon post, there we go

Masterlist, if you wish

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra alzanar #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #portia devorak #muriel #muriel the arcana #count lucio #lucio morgasson #fluff #domestic #the arcana imagines

[puns-and-musicals]

Thinking about the Ghosts Christmas Special.

Julian turned Pat’s video off without prying about why, or teasing?

Cap was so excited and gentle all episode- he’s really coming into his own and it’s so delightful to see- plus, no one forced him to act?? They all know each other so well, he got to be stage manager and they were ready to have Fanny double up on a role to fill the gap in the cast?

Pat having to face the fact that sometimes people make fun of him- and in doing so realizing that’s not really what’s happening at all? That it’s actually all affectionate??

Kitty did such a good job! She had so much fun and she was so valued by the whole ‘cast’ I’m so happy for her

Fanny who didn’t complain about partaking in the pantomime? S1 Fanny would have put up a fuss all day, and here her only complaint was rehearsing for so long?

Robin holding Humphrey’s hand so he didn’t walk offstage- and swinging their hands ?? Not to mention Robin talking to Pat and managing to get through to him.

Alison and Mike having their Christmas in the car, which was genuinely so sweet. Snacks and Christmas dinner and games and lighthearted fun- they’re so perfect.

The fucking. “I’m E.T.” Bit was great, I loved Kiell’s delivery so much dkdkksks

#BBC Ghosts #BBC Ghosts Spoilers #BBC Ghosts Christmas Special #Julian Fawcett #Pat Butcher #BBC Ghosts Captain #BBC Ghosts Kitty #Fanny Button #BBC Ghosts Robin #Humphrey Bone #Alison Cooper #Mike Cooper #The Captain #Patrick Butcher #Nickellaneous

[sparemintss]

Headcanon disguised as a little fic lmao

When Button House was being renovated for the hotel, items the button house ghosts would enjoy were being brought in (courtesy of Alison). Unbeknownst to Alison, the old radio from 1947 (she didn’t know the reason why it was bid so cheap) housed a ghost.

Said ghost would only come out when early 20th century songs played which nowadays would be difficult to hear but because it’s radio with many stations, there was always one that played 30s to 40s music.

This was found out when Julian was messing with the knobs of the radio and the ghosts surrounded Julian and the radio with fascination as the ghost faded in and out of existence before heaving to the politician, “please stop doing that- you’ll make me sick-“

“It speaks!” Thomas gasped which made the new ghost roll his eyes.

“Yes, I do.” He noticed Julian attempting to turn the knob again and shot a glare at him with a, “don’t.”

“New guy!” Robin pointed with a grin

Fanny hummed, “yes quite”

“Oooh! How exciting! A new best friend!” Kitty clapped her hands excitedly all the while twisting side by side. Which made the ghost smile albeit a bit awkwardly

Pat fixed his aviators and sidled up to the newcomer with a welcoming smile and a hand to shake, “hello! On behalf of me and my fellow ghosts, welcome to button house! I’m Pat! What’s your name?”

While the ghost shook Pat’s hand, he finally greet himself, “oh! Uhmm, I’m Anthony. Anthony Havers.”

It was then the Captain made a noise that reminded the room that he was still here.

To the Captain’s delight, the two found themselves in a daily routine. Since the ghosts saw that he was certainly very attached to Anthony for the next couple of weeks to the point where they had to drag him out of the room to join them with their clubs, they had a plan. The Captain obviously protested on this but Anthony swayed with the idea and to make it solid for the Captain, kissed his cheek and reminded him he isn’t going anywhere unless someone forgot to change the station.

(“Thank god we’re changing the channel in the afternoon. Can’t stand this, lovey dovey nonsense” icked Julian while Thomas woe’d, “oh when will it be my turn?!”)

From then on it was decided by the house ghosts that the radio should remain on this station every morning until it switched to a more lively station for the rest of the day. The Captain cherishing Anthony’s company every morning after his daily two minute thirty second runs morning runs.

#bbc ghosts #mint thoughts #capvers #caphavers #headcanon #I came up with this at 3am trying to fall back asleep #I think all these ghosts should have shenanigans #because every fic I read is so focused on capvers as a relationship #I need both of them separately to be in shenanigans #how does Havers interact with others? #does he even interact with the others at all? #is this man unhinged like the rest of them? #I want more of that

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 20

Chapter 19

"Jaskier!" you exclaim, tears in your eyes as you rush to embrace the man, everyone else looking upon the two of you stunned.

"Little sister," Jaskier exclaims in laughter, "it has been so long. Way too long." "I thought I'd never see you again," you say, trying to keep from crying.

The last time you saw your brother had been under less then ideal circumstances. You left with the hopes that he and the witchers would be spared the wrath of dragon fire.

The king and his family were still stunned by this reunion, but Otto stepped in to interrupt this moment, "Forgive this intrusion, but just who are you exactly?" "Well, I thought I was quite clear on who I was," Jaskier sasses, "I am Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount-" "Yes, you made that clear," Otto rudely cuts in, "it does not answer my question."

"Ah yes," Jaskier nods, "Well then, my lord, you are a lord correct? I'm only assuming by your stuffy demeanor, allow me to elucidate," Otto gave Jaskier the biggest glare from that remark. Daemon made a small smirk at that comment (reluctant as he may be) as Jaskier continued, "As I was saying before being of so rudely interrupted, I am the Viscount de Lettenhove, but for the sake of simplicity I go by my stage name Jaskier. Bard extraordinaire, well renown throughout the Continent, known for many a ballad, and for many a broken heart. And of course brother to this sweet, caring woman right here. Will those credentials be more than enough to suffice my lord?"      

"You're Lady (y/n)'s brother?" Rhaenyra speaks up, approaching, "I don't quite see the resemblance." "He's my half-brother, princess," you explain, "after his mother passed, our father married my mother sometime after." "Ah, so this is the princess," Jaskier says, "the Realm's Delight I am told. Truly a beauty unlike no other I have seen so far in this realm."

Rhaenyra smiled, "You flatter me. It seems to run in the family. That lute of yours looks quite sophisticately crafted." "Ah, do you like it?" Jaskier taps on his instrument, "this was handmade by the elves. It was a gift by their king actually. I've composed many a ballad on this instrument. Would you like to hear one?"

"That will have to wait another time," Viserys steps in, "that is until you answer the question as to why you are here in the first place."

"Ah yes," Jaskier says, tone turning more stern, which took Viserys by surprise, "I have a bone to pick with you. It wasn't enough to knock up my sister you had to steal her away from her family as well?"

Viserys only gave Jaskier a confused look, surprised this man had the audacity to address a king of all people in such a manner.

You roll your eyes a bit before whispering to Jaskier, "wrong royal, big brother," you nod towards Daemon, "that's the man who's bone you have to pick."

Jaskier turned his gaze to the prince, "oh I see, yeah, that makes more sense. In that case, my apologies your Grace," he makes a slight bow to Viserys and then turned to Daemon to confront the man.

"You. It wasn't enough to impregnate my sister with that little dragon of yours, you had to go and steal her and my niece and future heir from their family as well."

Daemon gave Jaskier a threatening look, "you are awfully bold to speak to me in such a way. Either that, or you have some kind of death wish."

"Oh yeah sure, go on, try and intimidate me with that menacing stare of yours, prince," Jaskier challenges, "you're not the first royal/noble to threaten me for things I may, or may not have done to their wives, sisters, and occasionally their mothers...and you're certainly not going to be the last. But I will not back down until I have what I came here for. I did not sit on some rickety ship and nearly get my head lopped off by Skellige pirates in a raid during a storm just to be cowarded into submission by some pretty boy with a pet dragon."

"Then what are you here for, Viscount?" Viserys asks. "Well, not that you may know, your Grace," Jaskier says, "but as it just so happens, my niece, my sister's daughter is third in line to my inheritance, seeing as I have no heirs of my own, not any legitimate ones at least," you smack your forehead at that statement, "my sister is next in line and by extension her daughter, and without them, I have no one else to pass my lands and titles to. By taking them away, you have deprived me of my future and my legacy. And I demand recompense for such grievances."

There was some awkward silence for a brief moment before Viserys speaks, "Well I am sorry for your loss, Viscount, truly. But I had nothing to do with this. I was informed that your sister was abducted against her will. Brought back to the Continent by a horde of mutant sell swords. Were you not aware of this?"

"Mutant sell swords?" Jaskier scoffs, "and vary odd way to describe-" you nudge your brother in the ribs before he could continue, "ow!" he protests.

"My brother was not made aware of this, your Grace," you say, giving Jaskier a certain look with hopes he'll keep his mouth shut for the time being, "and he was also not aware that Aemma was declared true born and is now addressed as Princess."

"Nor is he aware that my daughter is to wed the Prince Aegon when they both come of age," Daemon speaks up.

"...well then," Jaskier says with a calm tone, "We appear to be at an impasse. Tell me, your Grace, how do you plan to resolve this predicament I was placed in thanks to the father of my niece?"

"I hardly see a reason why this needs to be resolved," Otto retorts, "on what grounds should this burden fall on his Grace?"

"Alright then," Jaskier shrugs before stating his case, "if Lady (y/n) was indeed abducted by 'mutant' sell swords, she and her then illegitimate daughter should've been brought back to her family, being me. As Viscount with no heirs of my own, my sister holds the title Heir Apparent for my title, and Princess Aemma next in line. You know, now that I think about it, the real abduction of my sister and her daughter had actually occurred when THIS rogue," he points at Daemon, "swooped in on his giant lizard with wings and brought them here instead of the Pankratz estate where they truly belong."

Daemon gave Jaskier a very dangerous look, like he was already plotting the man's murder just for insulting his dragon. He probably would've if Alicent didn't pick this time to respond, "if this claim is indeed true, it may appear that this man has indeed been robbed of his legacy," she turns to Viserys, "surely a compromise can't be reached, provided time is given to negotiate."

Viserys thinks on it addressing Jaskier, "I suppose we could negotiate for such a compromise. As odd as you may be, you did come all this way in determination to see your sister again, which suggests a strong resolve. Very well, Jaskier is it? You'll be welcomed here as a guest. Accommodations will be provided as befitting your station."

"You truly honor me, your Grace," Jaskier nods, making a light bow, "now would you honor me further and allow me to see my niece, the princess?"

Right on cue, Aemma started walking on her tiny legs from the nurses and towards her mother. You go to pick her up and give her a kiss on the cheek, "Look Aemma," you say to her, "it's Uncle Jaskier, remember him?"

"Oh my goodness," Jaskier sports a wide grin on his face, "how have you grown, girl. You look so much like your mother, minus the hair and eyes that is."

Aemma gave Jaskier a rather confused look and hid her face into your neck. Daemon had a small smirk on his from the interaction, pleased that Aemma wasn't as willing to meet this man like she was with him.

"Aemma, it's alright," you whisper to her, "take a good look, maybe you might recognize him."

The young girl eventually looked up to her uncle again, who gave her another wide grin. She reached out for him. Jaskier took Aemma into his arms.

The other watched the interaction in fascination, except for Daemon, who at this point was coming with several different plots to get rid of the Bard. How said plots would be carried out would not make a difference, as long as they resulted in Jaskier's remains being fed to Caraxes.

You walk over to Viserys and address him, "if it is all the same to you, your Grace, I wish to take a walk with my brother and talk to him as I have not seen him for quite some time."

"...of course, Lady Lark," Viserys nods in understanding. The king then summoned one of the nursemaids to take Aemma back to play with Aegon.

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

"It is so good to see you again, Julian," you say once you and Jaskier were out in the gardens and further away from the prying eyes of the nobles staying in the Red Keep, and pulling him into a crushing hug, finally letting the tears slip forth, "you have no idea how much I've missed you and....him."

"Well I should hope so, given how you left of so suddenly," Jaskier says with slight sarcasm, "granted it was against your will, but still."

You laugh a little, sniffling some as well, "I've missed your sense of humor too." "And I've missed you as well, little sister," Jaskier nods, now struggling to breathe, "but maybe I'll miss you some more if you stop crushing me with your arms." 

"Sorry," you say stepping back to wipe your tears away, "it's just...you have no idea what I've gone through since I've been brought back to Westeros." "I can only imagine," Jaskier nods, "I don't imagine you've been allowed to even leave this place much if only to have that scoundrel rogue of prince watching your every move like a hawk."

"Well he just came back from fighting in the Stepstones so he hasn't had much time to watch me," you admit, "but that doesn't mean he didn't have soldiers or servants to do that for him. I did try to escape, Jaskier, once or twice, but both times the plans were thwarted. At least Ciri managed to make it out okay."

"Ciri escaped?" Jaskier's eyes widen, "so...she's not here...with you?" "She didn't go back to Ger- to our friend?" your eyes widen back just as shocked.

"No," Jaskier shakes his head, "neither of us have seen Ciri in years, we thought she was with you this whole time."

"I need to know what's been happening on the Continent," you tell him after taking a breather from the information you had received, "what happened to Ger...to him." "Why won't you say Geral-"

You place a hand on Jaskier's mouth before he could finish his question, "because Daemon has forbidden his name to ever be uttered within these walls," you mutter, "and even walls have ears."

When you took your hand away, Jaskier looked up, down, and every other direction. No one was in sight, but the Bard was smart enough to know that spies could be possibly be hiding anywhere in sight, "I see your point," he tells you, "well then, how to do go about this?" "You've been brushing up on your elven?" you ask. "Not as much?" he admits.

"What about your Toussaintian?" you suggest.

"You tell me, Mademoiselle," Jaskier says in said language.

"Excellent," you say back in the same language, briefly looking back and forth before you continue, "a special source came up to me some time yesterday when I was in the godswood. He said a white wolf was spotted in the North, wounded and making his way towards King's Landing. I think it might be the man we're both acquainted with."

"And how do you know this?" Jaskier raises an eyebrow, "who is this source?"

"He said the wolf had gold eyes and sported a silver medallion around his neck," you answer, "and...he sang the song I wrote for the wolf all those years ago? I've never sung it to anyone here before, yet he know the lyrics."

Jaskier seemed shocked, but nodded, "I was hoping the White Wolf would've gotten here before I had," he admits, "looks like he managed to reach Westeros, but in the wrong place."

"What happened Jaskier?" you ask in the Common Tongue before switching back to Toussaintian, "Why...why did it take so long? Why would the White Wolf be gravely injured in the state he is in?"

"It's a long story," Jaskier answers in Common Tongue, "A lot has happened since last you and Aemma were there. There...there was a meeting on Thanedd, you know that place right?" you nod before he continues, "Ger....uh, the Wolf was there and...it went so horribly wrong. He got hurt badly and Yennefer-" "Yennefer?" your eyes widen, "Yennefer was there?" She's alive?!" "Shockingly yes," Jaskier nods, "and apparently she knew where Ciri was seen last." "I thought you assumed Ciri was back here," you point out. "Yes well...you know I don't trust Yennefer all that well," Jaskier points back, "for all I knew she could've been lying."

You shake your head a bit; Jaskier may not care for Yennefer much, which was somewhat understandable given that debacle with the Djinn, but you and her had actually gotten along the few times you've seen her. Sure it did bother you at first that her destiny was tied to Geralt's due to that damned last wish, but you've never held it against her, and that was before you and Geralt had even coupled the first time.

You were actually sadden when you heard the news she had perished at the battle of Sodden. It was a relief now that she had actually survived.

"So what did Yennefer do?" you ask.

"Well," Jaskier begins, "after what happened in Thanedd, after our friend was hurt and recovered somewhat thanks to some Dryads, the sorceress in question had created a portal to take him here. Looks like it didn't quite get him to the exact spot he was hoping. Yennefer did mention that could happen. Magic seems to work differently in this part of the world."

"So he is in the North," you realize, "and he's trying to reach this place. But if his wounds have not recovered...."

You were now beginning to wonder what kind of injuries Geralt could have received on Thanedd that he still had not recovered from them completely; witchers were known to recover from injuries faster then the average human being, and could survive wounds that most would've perished from easily.

If the man you loved really was gravely injured and not recovered, who's to say he would even survive the long trek he would have to make from the North to King's Landing.

You were now fearing for Geralt's life, and you were starting to contemplate the offer Larys Strong had given you the other day.

"You have that look on your face," Jaskier interrupts your thoughts. "What look?" "That, I think I might have an idea, but it might come back to bit us in the arse look," the Bard elaborates. "Wouldn't that imply I have ideas like that all the time?" you huff. "No of course not," Jaskier assures, but the look on his face said otherwise, "but I assume you do have such an idea now."

"...okay fine maybe I do," you relent,  discretely looking over Jaskier's shoulder to spot your idea in question.

You talk in Toussaintian, "a man with a cane and club foot is sitting on the bench in the distance behind you."

Jaskier turned to see, "hey be discrete!" you scold.

"Okay, I got a good peak," he says, "what about him?"

"His name is Larys Strong," you whisper, "the youngest son of Lord Lyonel Strong, who holds a seat on the small council. Larys is the one who told me about our Wolf friend."

Jaskier's eyes widen and he goes to look again, "Hey!" you scold again, "remember what mother said about staring." "She was your mother, not mine," Jaskier scoffs. "The rules still apply."

"Do you think this Lord Strong can help us with our friend's predicament?" Jaskier whispers his question.

"Maybe," you say, "he did offer to help me escape once but...I'm not entirely sure he can be trusted. He's...well I'm not entirely sure how to describe him, but apparently he's good at reading people. If what you've said about our friend is true, we may not have much of a choice."

"Well, maybe I can try talking to him," Jaskier suggests. "No," you shake your head, "you should let me." "(y/n)-" "You don't know these people like I do, Julian," you point out, "I know you're no stranger to scheming nobles yourself, but...these Westorosi lords are a different breed altogether, especially the Hand of the king."

"Yeah, he really didn't seem to like me all that much," Jaskier nods. "Not as much as Daemon dislikes you," you say, "if you didn't notice already he had been trying to burn holes into your head like he was an actual dragon."

Jaskier notice your facial expression was little more somber at the mention of the prince's name. He places a hand on your shoulder, "(y/n), can you be honest with me?" he asks, "Has...has he been hurting you? In any way? Will you please tell me?"

You look Jaskier in the eye, "he...he's kind to Aemma. He hasn't laid a finger on her. He even gifted her with a dragon's egg upon our arrival." "But he has touched you," Jaskier states.

You don't say anything for fear that someone might still be overhearing. Jaskier takes your silence and the look of fear on your face as an answer, "I'll make him pay for what he has done to you," he says with anger in his tone, "even if it costs me my own life, I'll take my lute and whack him upside the head if only to cause a good deal of damage against him."

"Good luck with that," you sarcastically scoff, "I'm sure he's plotting your own death even as we speak."

"Well then," Jaskier states, "he's going to have to try really hard at that. Lesser men have tried and failed rather spectacularly. Worry not for me, dear sister, for there are three things in this life I am good at. My songs, my ability to evade death, and most important, how to get enough people to like me that any plots to do away with me become nigh impossible."

You snort at that last one, "you and your dumb luck, brother."

After talking some more on trivial things, you and Jaskier return to the inside of the keep, where you brother could mingle with enough lords and ladies that they would grow fond of him and wonder where he would go to should he mysteriously disappear.

Chapter 20.5

Masterlist

#hotd #daemon #geralt of rivia #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #geralt #jaskier #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #otto hightower #viserys targaryen #larys strong

[blurredcolour]

If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part Six

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: The last mad dash through awards season has unfortunate consequences for Austin and you, but against the odds, you still make it to the Academy Awards.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Language, Threats of Violence, Ongoing Stalker/Obsession Issues, Reader Has Body Issues, Austin Is Having None Of It, More Screenings, COVID-19 Rapid Test, COVID-19 Infection, Sickness, More Parties, Firearms, Wardrobe Malfunction, Austin and Reader In A Public Washroom Again, Sexual Tension, Innuendos, Rating - T.

Credit: Julian Ungano

Word Count: 4756

“…Satan, the great deceiver, has his claws so deeply into your flawed flesh, Butler. Has connvinced you that stealing the soul on Elvis Aaron Presley from his eternal rest for your own gains was a good thing. DECEIVED. Has connvinced you that you are safe with that godless whore by your side, taking my strikes meant for you on her body. DECEIVED. Has connvinced you that I have been stopped now that the unholy cops of Santa Barbara have taken my angel Gabriel from me. DECEIVED. I shall not be stopped until my work is done…”

Though getting a personal mention in the latest letter made your lips twitch into a smirk, you could not help but notice the increased level of rage in her latest missive. The iPad sank onto your knees as your eyes went unfocused, your mind’s eye turning back to reflect on the glimpses you’d managed to catch of the unknown woman, Austin’s threatening stalker, before Austin’s anguish-filled eyes flooded your memory and made you swallow painfully.

You closed the email from Scott containing the scanned copy of the letter and glanced at your watch, wondering how late Shyla would be. Austin’s laughter cascaded down the stairs from where he was partaking in a virtual interview in his bedroom to allow you the main floor to work with Shyla on finally choosing a gown for the Oscars. The schedule had been so hectic that it had not been possible to make time to go to her, and thus she was coming to you with some options today. Another warm laugh reached your ears and made you smile softly.

It had been a good thing, you reflected, that Austin’s father had arrived the night after the incident at the hotel. He had been a comforting and reassuring presence and restored some of Austin’s usual good humour – they had both delighted in the confusion that reigned with two Mr. Butler’s for you to manage at the Screen Actor’s Guild Awards. Austin’s red suit, consisting of three pieces no less, had also seemed like a personal assault on your reaffirmed vow of professionalism. And while it had been a shame that Austin had not taken home the award that night, you could not help but be struck by the growing sense of camaraderie amongst the nominees…and the elder Mr. Butler had also been able to witness his son assisting the leading ladies of Hollywood to the stage, which you were certain filled him with fatherly pride all the same.

Your phone buzzed with a call from the gate, and you quickly answered, pleased to hear Shyla’s rushed greeting mixed with an apology about traffic.

“Come on in, Shyla!” You hit nine on the number pad to unlock the gate and opened the front door to see her pull in, stepping out to help her with a collapsible garment rack and eight garment bags. “This seems like a lot of choices…”

“We have to make sure you look perfect” She grinned, her fashionable, jet-black bob glossy in the afternoon sun.

“You remember that no one is really going to see me, right?” You teased but she was already making her way inside, setting up the rack in the living room.

Following with a shake of your head, you hung the bags on the rack carefully, watching as she eagerly unzipped them to reveal a variety of dresses. They were in neutral shades, as prescribed for the non-talent attendees, but you frowned a little as only half of them had sleeves.

“I know, I know…” She said, immediately reading your face. “Will you please just humour me? I want you to try them all, so we get a really good picture.”

You crinkled your nose but took a slow breath and nodded.

“All right, where do you want me to start?” You tilted your head and took the first one she offered you, a cloud grey scoop neck with thin straps and A-line skirt.

Taking it carefully, you went to change in Austin’s office, which was now essentially your permanent bedroom, and returned to the living room, desperately fighting the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. Shyla tilted her head thoughtfully, walking around you in a circle silently as she took in the full look.

“Well?” You asked hesitantly, not able to see yourself.

“Oh! Oh, come here…” She led you by the shoulders into the powder room where there was a mirror where you could at least see yourself at least from the waist up.

“Oil me up and put me in the ring…Hulk Hogan is here…” You groaned before assuming the ‘most muscular pose’ from body building – your legs spread wide, and your torso bent forward as you flexed and curled your arms inward to show off every exposed inch of muscle on your body. “Whatcha gonna do when Hulkmania runs wild on you?!” You growled in an impersonation of the professional wrestler.

“Betty, darling, I don’t think you’re being very kind to yourself right now…” Austin suddenly appeared, leaning against the door frame with his eyebrows raised.

Shyla, who had been giggling beside you in the tiny room, gasped sharply as you felt heat flush across your face and down your neck.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Butler, did we disturb you?” You immediately straightened, biting your lip.

“No I am finished, and you don’t owe me an apology…” He glanced around the bathroom. “Is this really where you’re doing this? Come on…” He grabbed your hands and pulled you out of the bathroom, Shyla following silently in tow.

He swung by the living room, grabbing the other gowns and easily holding them off the ground as he led you upstairs and down the hall into his dressing room. The last time you had been in here it had been impossibly full of his girlfriend’s clothes but now it felt more spacious with only his things. He hung up the gowns and gently led you by the shoulders to stand in front of a full length mirror before turning on the lights so you had an even better view of how much you hated yourself in this dress. He stepped aside.

“There’s the person you need to apologize to.” He said once you were alone with your reflection, and you looked to him slowly, feeling caught red handed.

“I…” You looked back to your reflection and sighed.

“Have you ever been to the ballet?” Austin asked as he stepped closer and you nodded slowly, puzzled. “And how would you describe a ballerina?”

“Elegant, graceful, beautiful.” You replied easily, without hesitation.

“Have you seen one up close? Their bodies are just as muscular as yours…just because you use yours differently doesn’t negate the fact that you are elegant, graceful, and beautiful yourself.”

The breath shuddered out of your lungs as your eyes flashed to his in the mirror, wide with shock and disbelief.

“Not to mention brave, fearless, intelligent, funny, and a little unpredictable which I thoroughly enjoy. So don’t you dare make fun of your body because this dress looks bad on it…the dress is the problem.” He continued earnestly, blue eyes stubbornly piercing into yours, holding you captive as he cut through all your insecurities as though they were mere paper fictions instead of concrete walls you had constructed around yourself.

You blinked rapidly, ripping your eyes from his gaze forcefully as you tried to hold back the rising tide of emotion, any words you might have spoken congealing in your throat. You felt him squeeze your shoulders reassuringly and sniffed a little, swiping at a few rogue tears.

“So, lets try another dress please…” He looked to Shyla warmly and she quickly introduced herself before offering you the next dress.

You took it quickly, crossing the hall to a larger bathroom to change into a black dress with a smocked waist and balloon sleeves. Taking a few extra moments and a few tissues, you composed yourself before returning to the dressing room where Austin had found a stool for you to step onto, as though you were in a private dress shop. He turned out to be the pickiest of the three of you, rejecting this dress for seeming too casual, and the next with its asymmetrical straps in camel for being too plain.

The fourth dress, a navy chiffon with a plunge neckline with sheer sleeves and full skirt, had you returning to the room with a small smile on your face and a little more confidence. Both Austin and Shyla could see it. Could see that the colour, while neutral, was still stunning, and that confidence looked good on you. You tested the slit, kicking out your leg and doing your utmost to deny the fact that you saw Austin’s adam’s apple bob violently at the sudden appearance of your flesh. Because that did not happen. No.

“I only hesitate with the neckline and…well slippage…I know there’s netting but…”

“Oh!” Shyla’s face lit up. “We have body tape for that!” She pulled a roll from her bag and twirled it between her fingers. “It’s got double-sided adhesive that helps fabric stay exactly where you want it.” She nodded.

“This is definitely the front runner for me…” Austin murmured from beside you and you took another look in the mirror before nodding in agreement.

“Me, too.”

It remained that way, too, despite the other four dresses that Shyla had brought with her. None fit you quite as well as the navy one, nor made you feel the same way either – sleeved and sleeveless alike.

“That settles it then.” You nodded with a sigh of relief, happy to finally have gotten that decision out of the way.

Austin insisted on storing it in the dressing room for you to keep it safe, and helped you and Shyla load the other dresses and garment rack back into her vehicle before she headed out. Standing on the driveway together as the sun began to sink lower in the sky, you turned towards him softly and smiled.

“Thank you, Austin.” You said softly, pressing your lips together as you felt another overwhelming wave of emotion.

“Couldn’t have you saying that garbage about yourself under my roof now, Betty.” He smiled fondly, slinging his arm around your shoulders, leading you inside. “Homemade pizza for dinner?”

You followed him in eagerly, tempted by the sensation that this was a normal night in your normal life…because it felt so right.

The bone-aching fatigue you woke up with that Saturday should have been more of a warning sign. Should have registered in your fatigued brain that something was off, but you simply brushed it off as awards season burn-out and had a little extra caffeine that day. When Austin came down the stairs in his tuxedo-striped pants and long coat to attend the screening that evening, your heart raced fiercely, and you were briefly concerned you had overdone it. This man, the man you were meant to protect, just might be the death of you himself.

And while to the public he appeared himself, and the video they found of him from a newscast as a small boy was adorable, you noticed. Noticed the way that his eyes seemed a little greyer than normal, the way he needed to clear his throat more often, the effort needed to conjure that breathtaking smile, the way his heels dragged a little on the way to the car once the final screening was complete. It should have been cause for celebration, but you were all eager to go home and get to bed.

Everything clicked into place when you awoke the next morning with the sensation that someone had spent the nighttime hours sandblasting your eyes, throat, and sinuses. Your joints, your skin, even the roots of your hair hurt, and despite the heap of blankets on your body you felt the urge to shiver. You forced yourself out of bed, rifling through your bag to find a rapid test kit and performed a throat and nose swab. You managed to limit your sneezes to only eight, a small victory, before leaving the test to marinate, setting a timer as you slid back into the refuge of bed.

The chime of the timer startled you awake, making it obvious you had drifted off, and you stood to look at the test strip, sighing heavily at the clear positive. You took a photo and sent it to Scott before texting Austin.

– Mr. Butler, you should do a rapid test, I am symptomatic and tested positive. I’m so sorry. –

Frowning deeply, you found some cold and flu meds in your kit and took them, sitting back on the bed, blinking as there was a knock at your door.

“Me too, Betty. Come out here I’m making tea…” Came a very stuffy voice through the door.

You pulled on a hoodie and shuffled out, pausing to bend down and scritch Biscuit warmly in greeting, before meeting Austin in the kitchen.

“Don’t apologize for this, either…” He paused to cough into his elbow. “Brendan and Colin both had it a few weeks ago…it’s just our turn I suppose.”

“Did you take something?” You asked, finding a couple of mugs as he got the water boiling, smiling a little as he nodded. “Good.”

“Flavour?” He opened the tea drawer, and you chose your preferred tea, and he did the same.

“Are you hungry at all? Eggs? Soup? Toast?” Even though you were also sick, you still felt a need to take care of him.

“Let’s make eggs and toast because we need to eat…” He nodded and the pair of you shuffled around each other in a silent dance, making food for fuel instead of pleasure, settling onto the couch with blankets and tea.

Biscuit happily nuzzled in between the pair of you as you took turns picking movies and TV shows, easting and drinking as your bodies demanded. You were relieved when Ari tested negative, glad no one else was suffering.

“Honestly, it’s been so non-stop I’m not at all surprised this happened…” He sighed softly and you nodded.

“I had no idea what an insane pace this sort of thing involves…you should get awards just for the trouble of going through it…” You shook your head, grinning as he chuckled, frowning as it devolved into coughing.

As the sun sank lower, you felt his head fall onto your shoulder, heavy with the involuntary nap that overtook him. You smiled fondly and made sure he was tucked in, leaning back against the couch more firmly to brace the pair of you knowing that the soft sighs of his sleeping breath would surely pull you under in short order. You were not expecting, however, to wake enveloped in his arms, tucked under his chin with your bodies stretched out on the couch. You were both on your sides, covered by blankets, with Biscuit curled up at your feet. Austin must have woken up at some point and adjusted the pair of you to be more comfortable.

Because comfortable this was. Heavenly even. You felt so utterly pathetic and unwell and his embrace so warm and soothing, his hands splayed across your back, that you made the deliberate decision to nuzzle back into his chest as though you had never awakened. When you next opened your eyes, he was outside with Biscuit and you crept to your bed, taking the coward’s way out and pretending you never even knew it happened.

The two of you were equally ill and useless the next day, ordering in Thai soup in an attempt to be able to taste what you were eating. By the third day, you started to feel a little better, and the fourth even more so. Day five, the last day of Academy enforced quarantine, you both managed to shake off the last vestiges of infection and plan out the last sprint to the Awards ceremony on Sunday.

“And then I understand that you wanted to travel somewhere following that. Have you made a decision about where?” You tilted your head curiously, sitting on the patio with him and Biscuit, enjoying the sunshine and feeling of a healthy body – something seldom enjoyed unless one had just recovered from something.

“Somewhere warm – tropical even. Far from the usual spots…Honestly, I think I’ll book it on Monday or Tuesday, see where the wind takes me. Everything’s been so planned that I just want to be spontaneous.” He leaned back on his lounge chair and you nodded warmly, hardly blaming him for wanting some agency back in his life. “Besides, you’ll be there, so it’ll be perfect.” He grinned teasingly and you laughed shaking your head, but unable to resist the urge to smooth a bit of your hair tousled by the gentle breeze that day.

The pre-Oscar events seemed just like the dozens of other cocktail parties you’d attended over the past two months, with mostly the same attendees, all desperate to fawn over Austin especially after his illness-mandated absence. Despite being technically recovered, you were still tired when you returned home early Sunday morning and more than a little touched when Marwan offered to do your laundry for the week when he found you loading the washing machine.

You were surprised by the number of stylists who arrived at noon to help Austin prepare for the Academy Awards, only to be informed that half of them were there for you. You narrowed you eyes as he watched them haul you into the spare room, his own gaze filled with glee at having fooled you. After nearly two hours of attention focused solely on you, something that you found utterly overwhelming and perhaps a little embarrassing, you went down to your room to change, moving to grab your undergarments and thigh holster, smiling at the stack of neatly folded laundry on your bed.

Only to blink as the holster and garter lay there right on top. You swore under your breath. In your sleepy haze, you must have put it into the washing machine the night before. Knowing it was handwash only, you inspected it carefully, almost chewing your lip but mercifully remembering it was covered in lipstick. To your eyes, it seemed to be in normal condition, and they slid into place without issue. Sliding your pocket pistol into the holster, you carefully pulled on your dress before finishing the look with comfortable heels and stepped out to meet Austin, waiting in his tuxedo.

“My, my, my…you clean up very nicely.” He smiled warmly, using your real name with an affectionate tone that threatened to turn your knees to jelly.

“Thank you. I suppose you’ll be happy not to put on another tuxedo for a while?” You smiled shyly, your lips morphing into a broad grin as he laughed richly with an enthusiastic nod.

“Truer words…shall we?” He offered his arm, and you took it carefully, corralling the volume of your skirt with your other hand so the pair of you could make it through the doorway.

Out of habit, you headed for the front seat, but Austin grasped your wrist.

“Ah, ah, ah…pretty ladies get to ride in the back.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes.

Across the vehicle, Ari wolf-whistled teasingly.

“Both of you are terrible…” You muttered but complied, gathering your skirts and sliding into the back with Austin.

He grinned at you warmly once he settled into his seat and Ari had pulled out, but you noticed his leg bouncing a little with pent up energy.

“I thought your agent was joining you this evening?” You asked, trying to distract him.

“Hmm? James? Oh yeah, he’s meeting us there, he’ll be with Kate when we’re dropped off…” His fingers reached out, toying a little with the fluffy chiffon of your skirt. “You really did pick the right dress, you know…”

You found yourself smiling shyly, the back of the SUV feeling instantaneously all too intimate.

“Thank you again for your help with that…” You repeated softly and he nodded firmly.

He lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching the scenery pass by the window until it felt like you were suddenly pulling up to the curb just beside the entrance to the red carpet. Austin slid out and jogged around, insisting on helping you out. You were about to step out when you felt something loosen beneath your skirt and quickly reached up the slit in the fabric to find the garter strap had come unclasped.

“Sorry Austin, just a moment.” You muttered, mortified, and he quickly looked aside, throat bobbing with a visible swallow, but continued to shield you with his body as you snapped it back into place.

“Thank you very much, sorry about that.” You said warmly and he took your hand, helping you from the car with a bright smile.

Kate and James were waiting as Austin predicted, Kate exclaiming over your dress and pulling you close, overcome by the celebratory atmosphere of the evening.

You assumed the usual bag and took their personal effects for safe keeping during the red carpet walk. There were a tremendous number of press and fans this time, and it was harder to map your theoretical path towards Austin through the sea of people, but you did your best to remain focused. Whether your face was becoming familiar, or because you were dressed in a way that did not insist upon people ignoring you, you also found a lot of people, talent and non-talent both, greeting and complimenting your look. You missed the particularly heated smolder that the photographers were capturing from Austin as a result.

Nearly three quarters of the way through the gauntlet, you felt the garter strap give again. Felt gravity begin to pull down on the firearm and the thigh holster in turn, with each step you took. You shifted the bag over to that arm, hoping to cover as much of your thigh as possible lest people catch a glimpse of what you were trying to conceal. You clenched your thighs together, trying to take mincing steps, hoping the friction would hold it in the place. The doors to the building were in sight now, you just needed a washroom to dart into and resecure the damned thing.

At last, you were inside the lobby to the theatre and Austin collected his phone and things. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“I’m just going to find the washroom, will you be ok?”

He looked at you puzzled, as this was highly unusual for you, but nodded quickly.

“Of course, Betty, I’ll be right here.” He nodded and squeezed your shoulder, watching you shuffle your way into the single-stalled washroom nearby.

You set the bag on the counter and set your heel on the edge of it, tossing back the skirt and hiked the holster back up into place. Lining up the garter strap and clip, you managed to secure it, only to have it pop back open immediately. There was a knock at the door, and you glanced at it, swallowing.

“Just a moment!” You tried not to sound as frustrated as you felt.

“Betty, it’s me.” Austin’s worried tone came through the door.

“I’ll be right out!” You were just about the close the clasp again when the cursed thing disintegrated in your fingers. “Fuck!” You hissed and he knocked more insistently.

“Betty let me in.” He said firmly.

“No! No, I’ll be fine.” You protested stubbornly, even though you had no idea how you were going to solve this one.

“Betty you’re going to open the door or I’m going to break it down and how do you think that will look.” He practically threatened and you huffed wildly at the entire situation, stomping over to unlock the door.

He slipped in quickly, locking it behind him with a look of concern etched on his features.

“Are you ok? You never leave me in public and I’m worried about you…” His eyes quickly scanned your face and he frowned.

“It’s not…” You bit your lip and sighed heavily at the taste of lipstick. “it’s the damned holster, the garter clip has failed, and it won’t stay up without it and everyone is going to see my gun or me yanking at something under my skirt or both if I don’t fix this.” You let out in a rush.

“Ok…ok breathe…” He smiled softly. “I’m glad you’re not sick or hurt. Are you wearing underwear?” Austin asked and your jaw dropped incredulously.

“Yes of course I am!” You replied defensively. “But I don’t see why…”

“Good.” He cut you off. “Can I take a look?” He asked as he sank to his knees before you and your vision quite honestly swam for a moment. You realized more than few seconds had passed and you had yet to reply, so you quickly began to gather your skirt up into your hands.

“Uh huh.” You managed to vocalize, turning your gaze skyward as looking at him in that position made you feel faint.

There was utter silence in the small bathroom, both of you holding your breath, neither of you moving, until suddenly you felt the brush of his fingertips against your thigh as he collected the garter strap between his thumb and forefinger to closely inspect the clasp, making you jump violently.

“Easy there, sorry…” He soothed you, his free hand cupping the back of your thigh, and it was honestly up for debate whether or not that was at all helpful. “Ok, in the bag, I got Kate to pack the nipple…uh...the…uh…the body tape…”

You did not miss the way he stuttered after saying word ‘nipple’ while face to face with the apex of your thighs and it brought you a modicum of smug satisfaction to know that he, too, was struggling in this moment. You put as much fabric as you could into one arm and reached into the bag, blindly groping until you found the roll of tape and passed it to him. There was an absence of touch then, and you clenched your eyes shut as you listened to him open the package before jumping again as his fingers brushed against your tender flesh once more. You felt him put the clasp in place before he cleared his throat.

“I need you to hold that closed for me.” He rasped, the damned fiend.

You reached a hand down to pinch it closed, feeling him wind tape around the strap from below the clasp, over the clasp, and a good deal above the clasp for good measure.

“Does that feel good?” He asked and cleared his throat. “Like it’ll hold?” He clarified.

“Y…yes. I think that’s great thanks…” You nodded and he stood smoothly.

Stepping back, you let your skirts fall before bouncing on your heels a little, nodding quickly.

“Very secure, thank you so much.” You added, speaking to the general vicinity of his chest as his eyes were too overwhelming in normal circumstances, let alone whatever these were.

The grey smudges on the knees of his otherwise perfect black trousers caught your eyes and you hissed.

“Wait!”

You quickly grabbed some paper towel and dampened it under the tap, grasping his hip to steady yourself as you swiped the dust and dirt from his knees, nodding once you were satisfied you had erased the evidence of him kneeling in a public washroom. You straightened without thinking, suddenly face-to-face with his chin, his head automatically tilting down, eyes boring into yours.

Time slowed, and existence narrowed to the feel and taste of his breath as tiny puffs of it brushed against your upturned lips just inches from his. Your fingers dug further into his hip, like a ship at anchor in violent seas, and he shifted a fraction closer.

A sharp knock at the door sent you reeling backwards, kick-starting your sluggish heart so it now rabbited at your throat.

“Austin?” You heard Kate’s voice through the door and looked to him with wide eyes. He gave you an equally wide-eyed look in return, mouth opening and closing with things he wanted to say. “Are you in there?”

“On my way, Kate!” He choked out instead and you nodded, cramming yourself into the corner and motioning for him to step out.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you standing alone with the bathroom, faced with the nigh impossible task of pulling yourself back together.

Read Part Seven

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Tag List: @littlewhiterose, @austinsvlrslut, @emrysdreams, @slowsweetlove, @xstrengthxinxtragedyx, @shelbygeek, @kingdomforapony, @artlover8992, @eliseinmemphis, @haydensith, @breadsquash, @chimchimjiminie16, @qxiva, @lilsiz

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fem!reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #blurredcolour

[wanderingwriter87]

untitled ficlet

Garak's fingers twitched over the holographic keyboard. There were already two versions of the message in his drafts, both of which now felt unnecessarily combative. He knew he should just leave it alone. They would talk in the morning - Julian's anger burned hot and quick, and he'd be in a better mood by then. 

They had simply gotten off on the wrong foot today. Garak still struggled to judge when he had crossed the line between playful banter and an actual argument, the kind that humans tend to take personally. But no, of course that wasn't entirely it. He'd known from the beginning this was personal. 

What he hadn't expected was to take it so personally himself. 

He regretted it - all of it, even the innocuous things he'd said that led to this. He regretted how, when it turned ugly, he'd let it slip that he had broken into Julian's private comms before to delete messages that he thought better of sending, before they could be seen. 

Of course Julian had always known, had said as much, but the fact that Garak brought it up gave him the opportunity to mention it, with a good bit of pent-up frustration behind it.

Betrayed my trust. 

That was the phrase he used. And certainly he had every right to - and he hadn't intended the visceral reaction from Garak. Of course he didn't. How could he have known?

Certainly, coming from anyone else, Garak likely could have brushed it off. He had before. The Kardasi word for betrayed (which the UT had helpfully chimed in with) certainly got a lot of use, and there was really no reason for him to fixate on the one person in his life who had said it more than anyone else.

And in his mind, his own pathetic response echoed:

I never betrayed you! Not in my heart!

But Julian, of course, didn't know. With his human sensibilities and his Federaji optimism, how could he? He had only met Enabran Tain once (and that was one time too many, quite frankly) and he was never going to understand the complexities of that relationship. What betrayed my trust meant to a man like Tain. What it meant to Garak, dragging him back to the first moment of his exile as surely as a temporal anomaly.

Garak stood up from the console abruptly and walked to the viewport. The little stabs of pain behind his eye, the headache that was probably to blame for his state of mind in the first place, throbbed a little harder.

What he wouldn't give to breathe fresh air tonight.

He imagined explaining it to Julian (horrifying!) and couldn't decide which outcome would be worse - a rush of sympathy, or indifference. After all, the intent of his words was to hurt, and he'd certainly accomplished that.

No, not to hurt. To correct your behavior. That was Mila's voice, and he was biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

He went back to the console and wrote it all out - not the exact truth, of course, but something like it. Then, line by line, he deleted it all.

Just for good measure, he went in and deleted the other two drafts as well. There was simply no telling what kind of technical glitch this place might experience that would send them off to Julian in six months when all of this would be forgotten.

It occurred to him that maybe Julian wouldn't be apologetic or indifferent, but perhaps offended at the implicit comparison. Of course Julian was nothing like Tain, in anything but perhaps the level of devotion he inspired. But that, too, was better left unsaid.

Garak stood again, locked the console, and went to his bookshelf. He had a few paper books still, precious stowaways from a former life, but most of them were on PADDs and datarods. And now, after years of exchanging literature with Julian, every single one of them bore some memory or association with him. No, there was no escape to be had there.

A game of kotra against the computer - no, in addition to being thoroughly uninspiring, he would only be able to think of Julian across the table frowning in delightful concentration at his pieces.

Somehow the doctor had become entwined with every part of his life, and it was far too late to attempt untangling it - even if he'd wanted to.

He laid down then, on top of the blankets, head flat on the mattress and eyes staring widely at the dull red lights on the ceiling. His head ached. His heart ached. This was the price he paid for letting someone in so close, close enough to really hurt.

For Julian, he'd pay it. Again, and again, and again.

#angst #my fic

[lloydfrontera]

i'm obsessed w thinking up aus for tged. au where suho gets transmigrated into lloyd's body not long after javier enters the household (typical transmigration in childhood plot). au where in the middle of "the knight of iron and blood" some enemy warlock summons someone he thinks will torment javier the most: og lloyd (but it turns out to be suho in his body instead bc the summoning/resurrection went wrong). daemon au where alicia actually has a lion daemon and lloyd actually has a pomeranian daemon who pestered javier's daemon nonstop back when og lloyd was there.

and i am obsessed with all of these aus omg!!!

tiny suho and baby javier oh my god!! they'd be so cute T-T tiny javier is so adorable and sad and cute, suho would immediately get attached to him. plus julian, he's already so stocked about having a little brother when he's an adult, just imagine how much he'd love 5-years-old julian. he'd be such a good hyung :').

also i am fascinated by the emotional repercussions this would have in everyone. especially on arcos and marbella. we know they already feel the emotional distance lloyd put between them when he's an adult, but imagine if he tried to do the same as a kid. the emotional slow-burn between the three of them would be soooo good.

and a suho who's gone through the same traumas but who gets thrown into a child's body with all the emotional immaturity that goes along with it would have the most delightful of breakdowns. like imagine someone with intense feelings of survivor guilt, food insecurity, trust issues and a self-sacrificing streak that rises up when it comes to the people he cares about, but he's also 10 years old. it's like the perfect mix for a great emotional breakdown <3

plus we would also get to see 10-years-old lloyd being followed by 5-years-old javier and julian like little ducklings. adorable. no notes. the mental image is already perfect. nonnie i may just have to make art for this one actually i'm so sorry i'm in love

and i am screaming about the idea of suho being isekai'd in the middle of "knight of blood and iron".

it would be an extremely bittersweet story, because by that point javier has already lost everyone he loved, he's completely alone in the world and then he gets one (1) person from his past back and it's the man who made his life impossible even then. he'd be so angry and upset and heartbroken about it, but i think he would still stick by lloyd's side because at that point, lloyd would literally be the only thing he has left from his old life. like he stuck around even before og!lloyd died, he would absolutely force himself to stay by lloyd's side when he gets brought "back" even if he thinks lloyd will make his life more difficult.

and lloyd would have such a hard time getting his trust because by that point, there's very little for him to save. there's no estate, no parents, no little brother to protect, everyone and everything is lost for them at that point, so he has no immediate way to prove himself to javier. he would still have a good chunk of the plot memorized which would obviously help, but if he's brought in the middle of the story then by that point the entire country is a mess thanks to alicia going full tyrant and there's also lupellan, so instead of avoiding those plot points, he has to face them head on with just a little advantage of knowing how they'll play out. so the only way for him to get javier's trust and eventually his friendship, which he would definitely need to stay alive in that particular world, would be to step up to dangerous situations much earlier and probably more often than he would otherwise.

it'd definitely be a different dynamic between them. most of the emotional weight would be on javier being both bitter about getting "lloyd" back and not someone else while also desperately wanting to keep him close because he's the only thing he has left of his old life. while lloyd is mostly worried about staying alive, both because of the events of the book and because he's still not sure how likely it is that javier will just straight up leave him behind one day, because technically he already fulfilled his duty of a lifetime with him once thanks to og!lloyd dying before. i think it'd be fascinating, really would love to explore this one more too.

the daemon au is the one i will probably disappoint you the most nonnie 😅 i never really understood this one and i don't think i've ever read a fic about it. would you like to explain it to me????

#hey i got an ask #Anonymous #tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #i am obsessed with these aus they're sooo good nonnie!!!! #javier asrahan

[amethystroselily]

Finally finished These Violent Delights by Micah Nemerever (which took longer than it usually would because I kept switching between it and the goldfinch whenever one of them annoyed me enough I had to look away, and this turned out to be a good system actually.)

and (SPOILERS) about half way through that book I was like “huh. Paul’s actually the problem isn’t he” and the end confirmed that for me. I remember there being a suspicious lack of context in the beginning of the story as to why Julian was so pissed at him, so perhaps Paul was just aggressively misinterpreting everything Julian ever said to him from the very beginning and filtering it through his woe is me lens. Like yeah Julian wasn’t perfect by any means, but Paul was the one sabotaging that relationship at every turn and then getting mad at Julian about it, which is really interesting because in the beginning it feels like Julian is just a terrible partner and Paul is just internalizing it because he has low self esteem (which is all still true either way) but then looking back at it I kind of suspect Paul was the problem the entire time, like at least more so than the narration is letting on at that point. But I would have to reread to really confirm that. Anyway good book 👍

#I’m wording this poorly but you know what I mean (probably) #these violent delights #julian fromme #paul fleischer #these violent delights Micah Nemerever

[sapphosewrites]

For the ask game:

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

✿ did anything major change when you started writing [fic] to when you finished? - For 'Terok Nor AU'

▵ pick a fic and I’ll tell you my favorite line - choosing 'An Influx of Bashirs'

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it - 'Necessary Storms' for Kira/Ezri!

Thank you, friend! You know I love an ask game <3

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

The easiest fic for me to write was Whisper a Dangerous Secret, because all I did was come up with a silly little ficlet, and then ectogeo did all the work of turning it into a whole real story with feelings and stakes! My tendency historically has been to say that whatever multichapter fic I finished most recently was the hardest, but I think the award is still held by I Will Choose Free Will, because it cut deep to my own fears about mortality and what it means to make a meaningful life.

✿ did anything major change when you started writing [fic] to when you finished? - For 'Terok Nor AU'

For the whole series? So so much! It was supposed to end with the arrival of the Federation, but everyone kept leaving such delicious comments and giving me more and more ideas about how to keep it going. Julian and Garak were also supposed to have successfully gotten together already, but every time I sat down to write the scene where it was meant to happen (and it was meant to have happened multiple times by now), I found myself reveling in the tension and angst instead. Originally, I hadn't even decided if it was Section 31 specifically that Julian was running from, and now I've got Sloan running around in season 1! It keeps surprising me, but that's become part of the fun.

▵ pick a fic and I’ll tell you my favorite line - choosing 'An Influx of Bashirs'

Ooh, I haven't thought about this fic in a little while, thank you for inviting me to return to it. I'm going to go with...

Once he could have withstood it, but that was before Tain sent an assassin after him and Mila thought that Tain was the one who needed saving, before Tain dangled redemption in front of him along with Mila’s life, before Tain died finally and forever and Garak realized he would never return home and Mila’s face on a viewscreen was the only family he had left.

Which is really angsty, but I like the rhythm of that sentence for reasons I can't articulate.

I'm also delighted to be reminded of this fic in tandem with the Terok Nor AU series, because you reminded me that I had once intended to add a one-shot of canon Julian meeting his Terok Nor AU self!

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it - 'Necessary Storms' for Kira/Ezri!

Now this is interesting! Kira wasn't in that fic, so the first big question is how to get her there. It's possible she and Ezri are married, and she's become a Starfleet Spouse in parallel to Garak, but I don't see her easily agreeing to leave Bajor to join a starship. Unless, again parallel to Garak, something has forced her to leave Bajor, maybe a political push she couldn't agree with? Like a return to d'jarra? Or maybe her past ties to Odo or something have made her unpalatable to the masses, or maybe there's another isolationist movement and she's too close to the Federation... It's an interesting question to consider, but for these purposes let's keep her with Bajor and have something bring her to Trill. I could see her as already in a relationship with Ezri before the story starts, joining to investigate maybe because Ezri has gone incommunicado and she's worried? Or she also gets kidnapped like Julian because she was close to Dax and knows about the symbiosis commission's secret. Then she and Ezri are in captivity together, and maybe that could provide the space and push for them to admit feelings for each other... Or, if I were really going to restructure the story, maybe what I'd do is have the crew request Kira's help as an expert in resistance movements, to infiltrate or otherwise interact with the uprising, to help rescue Julian and Ezri. And then Garak and Kira have to team up to save their partners.

This is a really fun question to consider, thanks for asking it!

[bakuliwrites]

Intimate, Part 1- Julian x GN!Reader

Rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

Fandom: The Arcana

Relationships: Julian x Gender-Neutral Reader

Summary: Bathing with Julian gets a bit steamy.

Author's Notes: Hey all! This is a six part series, one story for each of the M6. Just a selection of sensual moments with the M6. I have the whole fic up on my AO3, but I figured I'd post it here, too :) Here, you can find Asra, Nadia, Muriel, Portia, and Lucio. Enjoy!

Julian’s heavy footsteps ascending the shop stairs alert you to his arrival home from the clinic. His boots seem to drag over the wood grain, a sweeping, exhausted shuffle as he draws nearer and nearer. You can tell the doctor has had a long, tiresome day from the deep sigh that escapes his lips as he enters your shared bedroom. Julian’s shoulders slump with exhaustion, worn out from carrying the weight of his workload and many worries. However, despite his weary gaze and the dark bags under his eyes, his face brightens at the sight of you. 

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he beams, delicately cupping your face in his gloved hands and planting a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. Julian’s mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes of bitter coffee and the sweet, citrusy slice of cake you’d sent along with him. 

Thank goodness, you think to yourself as you draw back to peer into his glimmering, storm-gray eye, He ate something today. It’s always a miracle when Julian actually takes the time to attend to his basic needs. He’s been a lot better about it since the two of you had officially gotten together.

“What’s on the docket for tonight, my darling?” he breathes, squeezing you tight and burying his head in the crook of your neck. His warm breath fans softly against your skin, sending delightful prickles along it. Your lips brush against the waves and ringlets of his fiery hair as you nuzzle against him. He smells of rich leather, rubbing alcohol, and his pleasant natural musk. 

“Mmm,” you mumble into him, taking a silent moment to breathe him in, “I was just about to slip into the bath. Wash my day away. Care to join?” 

A rumbling laugh reverberates through his chest, sending delightful shivers up your spine.

“It would be my absolute pleasure,” he grins, his eyebrow quirking mischievously up. You return his look of devilish glee with a coy smile, silently dragging your hand down his arm and pulling him along behind you. He eagerly follows you to the bathroom, making sure to comment on how positively bewitching the sway of your hips is as you lead him.

“Best seat in the house,” he teases, to which you can only roll your eyes and laugh. Warm steam hits your face as you enter the bathroom. In preparation, you’d started the water a few minutes before you anticipated Julian’s arrival home. It was just about full, heat rising pleasantly from the surface of the clear water. You rummage around in the cabinets, rattling glass bottles filled with various herbal remedies and pushing aside extra washcloths. Finally, you find what you’re looking for, uncorking a pale pink wine bottle and inhaling the floral scent trapped within. You turn back to the bath and pour a generous helping of rose-scented soap from the bottle into the water and follow it up with some of Julian’s salts from Nevivon.

As you lean over the cast-iron tub to turn off the faucet, you catch Julian curiously eyeing the way your loose shirt hangs off your frame. You smile to yourself, casting a coquettish glance his way. You make sure to go extra slow as you start to slip your hands under the hem of your shirt to begin pulling it off. Julian’s cheeks turn a brilliant crimson as you strip away your garments. He sees you naked practically every day, but acts like each time is the very first, glancing nervously away before giving in and staring in awe. It’s truly adorable, you think to yourself. 

“Well,” you start, gently biting your lip, “Are you going to join me?” 

“Hmm? Umm, yes! Yes, sorry,” Julian sputters, tearing his gaze away from your unclothed form. 

Hastily, he rips off his overcoat, jacket, and the rest of his elaborate outfit. He nearly topples over in his hurry when he gets to his trousers, eliciting a bubbly giggle from you which he returns with an embarrassed smile. With all his clothes in a pile on the ground, Julian slips off his eyepatch and sets it on the countertop, allowing you a moment to slowly trail your gaze along the length of his body. His legs are thin, but shapely. His figure is lithe; but, despite his lanky frame, he's broad-shouldered. You marvel at the auburn hair that speckles his chest and trails down from his bellybutton to his groin. You permit yourself a quick peek below his hips before your eyes quickly dart up to Julian’s handsome face. The curve of his lips brings heat to your cheeks as you think of all the places you’d like to feel their soft caress. His aquiline nose is positively wonderful, you think, wanting to press kiss after kiss to its tip. You could cut your hand on the marvelously sharp angles of Julian’s cheekbones. As your eyes meet his, he gives another roguish beam.

“Normally I charge a viewing fee, but I’ll give you a spousal discount,” he winks, laughing at his own joke.

“Well, thank goodness for that. I’m not sure I could afford the exorbitant price one might charge for a being as spellbinding as you,” you return, delighting in the way Julian’s brain seems to short-circuit at your compliment. This time his entire body flushes a lovely shade of pink. It’s only rarely that one can render the man speechless, but you manage to succeed quite often. There’s no greater joy than watching Julian stumble over his words when someone praises him, especially because you know he rightfully deserves it.  

You test the water temperature with the tips of your fingers. It’s just right for you. Lowering yourself into the tub, you immediately feel any stresses of the day melt away. You motion for a somewhat stupefied-looking Julian to come join you. He sidles up to the tub, staring expectantly at the puffy layer of bubbles covering the surface of the water.

“Should I get in this way? No, my legs will be all over the place, mostly up in your face if I do-” he mutters to himself, staring quizically at the rather small clawfoot tub. His gangly limbs are sure to hang out over the edges, or force you to make yourself as small as possible on one end or the other. You hadn’t thought about how best to position yourselves. It didn’t really matter how the two of you would manage to fit in the bath, just that Julian joins you in some way.

“C’mon,” you motion for him, “Just get in and lean back against me.”

“Won’t that crush you?” Julian hesitantly speculates, but you dismiss his worry with a wave of your hand. He acquiesces, carefully lowering himself into the steaming hot water. Gently, he leans back against you, his weight a welcome pressure. He’s careful not to press too hard into you as he settles himself between your legs. Julian sighs contentedly, allowing his head to fall back against you.

“Comfortable?” you offer, peering around his shoulder. He’s so much taller than you, but he’s sunk low enough in the water to allow you a view of the mirror in front of you. 

“Very much so,” he hums, eyelids fluttering shut, “Are you?” 

You nod in silent confirmation, closing your eyes in relaxation and enjoying a luxurious moment basking in the warmth of the water and Julian’s body heat. Life with Julian is always an adventure, hectic and exciting. Not that you're complaining about that, but sometimes you need a moment of reprieve. And you know for a fact that he could certainly use one, too. So evenings like this are utterly precious. Feeling Julian relax against you is enough to put your mind at ease. His fingers absentmindedly trace circles on your bended knee. For once, he's actually rather quiet. But you can tell he's feigning non-chalance. The little muscles in his face are still tense from what you can see in the mirror, jaw clenched and brows drawn in silent worry. In fact, Julian's whole body seems a bit rigid. You wonder if there's anything more you can do to ease his tension.

“Mmm, your shoulders are so tense, my love,” you hum into Julian’s ear, smoothing your hands along his broad shoulders, “Want some help?”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you,” he agrees, eyes firmly shut and breath even with tranquility. You press a quick peck to his cheek as you begin what you hope will be a relaxing massage for your beloved. 

Your hands go to work near the base of his neck, gently kneading the taut cords of his muscles. You immediately identify a knot and start to press your thumbs in a little harder. 

“Ooo,” Julian grunts, releasing a breathy laugh, “I think you might’ve found something there.” 

“Good,” you purr in his ear and you can feel his heartbeat quicken with your sensual tone, “I’ll make sure to take care of that right away, Doctor Devorak.” 

You watch in the mirror as Julian’s eyes flutter open in surprise before a wicked grin dances across his face.

“I have the utmost faith in you,” he drawls, glancing back at you out of the corner of his eye. But before he can say anything more, you dig your thumbs into his flesh a little harder, eliciting a sultry moan from your dear doctor. 

You slowly work your way down his shoulders, squeezing tight along Julian’s freckle-dappled skin. Along the way, you pepper kisses along the spots that seem most tender, relishing the positively sinful groans that escape Julian’s perfect lips. Every once in a while, you pause to nip and suckle at his neck, leaving behind tiny brusies from your love bites. Julian will marvel at your hickey handiwork later, but for now he's lost in utter bliss from your firm grip and the grazing of your teeth against his skin. His face in the mirror is a delight: eyes squeezed shut with pleasure, lips parted ever so slightly, and cheeks flushed and rosy. His elegant fingers find their way to your thighs, digging into their supple skin and sending blissful tingles through your core. 

You skim your palms down Julian’s arm, feeling the auburn hairs raise with pleasured goosebumps. He sucks in a breath of air through his teeth as you make your way to his pert nipples, tweaking them teasingly. A mischievous smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you circle your thumb around one while trailing your other hand down the center of his chest. You enjoy the sensation of your fingertips softly grazing the hair that leads from Julian’s navel to his groin. 

“Oh, you are quite the skilled masseuse,” Julian praises as your fingernails brush against the sensitive skin along his inner thighs. You take this opportunity to drag your tongue along the shell of his ear. Another loud, salacious groan from the man. You swear to the gods, Julian’s sounds alone could bring you to ecstasy. 

Your hand brushes against his erect dick. Julian gasps with his sensitivity, gripping your thighs even tighter than he had been before. 

“Would you like some help with this?” you offer, running a finger along his length. 

“Mmm, yes. Please,” Julian quietly begs, brows furrowing and gray eyes dark with desire. 

“Hmm, you got it, my sweet boy,” you hum, lips brushing feather-light just underneath his ear. You take a moment to massage his balls, savoring Julian’s breathy sighs and little keens. 

“I swear, your hands work miracles, my darling,” he murmurs, eyes falling shut once again. 

“I’ve learned from the best,” you compliment, voice barely above a whisper in Julian’s ear. If his cheeks could turn even more crimson than they already are, they certainly would. You start to pump his erection rhythmically, slow at first. Julian’s breaths are deep, his groans of pleasure reverberating through his chest. He leans back even further, practically trying to merge your forms into one. He’s so close, in fact, that his moans rumble through your chest as well. This moment is blissful: your chest pressed against Julian’s back, his fingers digging into your thighs. You’re so hot from the water, Julian’s body heat, and your own growing hunger. The heady scent of rose fills your nose, clouding your mind with desire. The feeling of Julian’s body against yours is utterly intoxicating. You’re joyously losing yourself to this evening of rapture.  

As you pick up your pace, Julian’s head falls back onto your shoulder, his eyes squeezing tight as you bring him closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Gods, you’re too good to me,” he huffs, reaching one hand back to tangle in your hair. 

“My darling, you deserve to relax,” you remind him, feeling his cock begin to ever so slightly twitch in your hands. Julian’s breathing grows shallow, rapid. The bath water gently sways with the rocking of his hips. His heart thrums wildly behind his ribcage, encouraging yours to flutter faster. His orgasm is imminent, the salacious sounds that escape his lips becoming more frequent and unbridled. You could listen to them all day, his velvety voice utterly delicious. 

Julian begs you to go faster, yet. As you oblige his request, he weaves his fingers further into your locks. His lips seem so desperate to find yours, his panting breaths warming your chin from this somewhat awkward angle you’ve managed to position yourselves in. But you hardly notice how uncomfortable it might otherwise be, for a moment later, Julian is coming undone beneath your touch. The water splashes violently over the edges of the tub as your beloved rogue finally obtains his euphoria. His hips rock erratically as you maintain your quick pace and his mouth falls open in pure bliss. A string of swear words in several languages graces your ears, followed by an invocation of your name that would make the very gods jealous in their heavenly thrones. Julian’s face in the mirror is orgasmic enough to nearly bring your own completion. Swiftly, you capture his lips in yours, swallowing up his praises and sighs. You’re both so desperate for one another, kisses sloppy and rough. You know your lips will be bruised come tomorrow, but it doesn’t even matter. 

You stay your hand, letting go of Julian’s cock and focusing on his luscious, sweet-tasting lips. You want this moment to last forever: tangled up in Julian’s embrace, lips working feverishly against one another's, your shared breathing a reminder of how entirely alive and in love the two of you are. When you finally separate, Julian slumps back against you, tuckered out. You tenderly drag your fingernails up and down Julian’s sternum, careful not to tug at any of his chest hairs (though you suspect Julian might actually enjoy that a little- something you can test another day). You luxuriate in this moment, letting Julian sink further into you, his body seeming to loosen as you gently tickle his chest. In the mirror, you can see the furrow in his brow dissipate, the very muscles in his face relaxing as his breathing deepens and evens out. 

“Feeling better?” you inquire, snuggling closer. Julian lets out another contented sigh. 

“Much better, thank you,” he returns, cracking an eye open to look at you in the mirror, “But you know what I think?” 

“What’s that?” you question, raising a confused eyebrow. Julian lifts himself up and swivels (somewhat awkwardly) around in the bathtub so he’s facing you. He leans back against the opposite side of the tub and motions for you, an impish look in his eye.

“You know, I think your shoulders must be awfully tense now. Care for some help?” he offers. You smile knowingly at him. How could you deny such a delightful proposal?

#the arcana #julian devorak #julian devorak x mc #julian devorak x you #julian devorak x apprentice #the arcana game #spicy #very spicy #arcana fanfiction #ao3 #gender-neutral apprentice #gender-neutral reader #julian needs some relaxation and snuggly love #i want to give him all the snuggles and kisses and smooches and hugs #lemon #lemon fic #i want to call Julian 'sweet boy' and watch his brain short circuit #my fanfiction #dani writes

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

M6 and MC during a storm or other bad weather event? Can be as fluffy or as angsty as you please.

(Bonus: What kind of umbrella would each LI have, if any?)

The Arcana HCs: M6 during thunderstorms

~ the way my mind gets flooded with serotonin just thinking about thunderstorms XD I've added some pics of the kinds of umbrellas I think they'd use too ^.^ thanks for the prompt anon! - brainrot ~

TW for mentions of panic attacks in Julian's and Portia's sections and tooth rotting fluff in general

Julian

HATES thunderstorms

They take him right back to the night he lost his family, until he's a scared little boy holding his baby sister and waiting for his parents to come save them all over again

Just the sound of rain alone used to send him into panic attacks as a kid and young teen, but he's been an adult on his own for a long time at this point and it's rare for him to have that reaction now

That doesn't stop him from getting anxious though

He'll alternate between uncharacteristic silence and feverish chattering, making overly casual comments on the weather

He will also be laser focused on you. He knows it's irrational, but he's got a deap-seated fear that the storm will take you from him too and he will follow you like a shadow

He doesn't want to become a nuisance though, so he'll be fussing over you nonstop - layering you with blankets, insisting you eat or drink every thirty minutes, dosing you with vitamins, etc

Of course, you love him, so you find a way to make things bearable

The sound of thunder and sensation of cold rain bother him the most, so cuddling in bed where it's warm and dry and the blankets can muffle the sounds is ideal

The best is when you ask him to read out loud to you. He gets to be close to you, make himself useful, and stay distracted all at once. Just don't let him have coffee, the jitters will send his anxiety through the roof

(He rarely uses his umbrella, but it's as gothic as he is and has a raven head carved in the handle)

Asra

LOVES the rain

Their magic is water-affiliated as it is, and you're telling them that everything's being splashed with it? Well what are you waiting for, MC, it's clearly time to go outside!

Constant smiling and giggling

The streets are almost completely empty because everyone sane is staying inside, and he takes full advantage of that. It's the most childlike, playful, and hyper you'll ever see him

Tag, you're it!

They'll run and give chase for as long as you can manage it, and as soon as one of you slows down they're pulling you into their arms to dance. Don't worry about the music, they'll make it happen somehow

Kisses in the rain with his hair plastered to his face will never not be delightful. He won't hold still for very long though, if you hold him too close he'll take it as his invitation to tickle you and run

Puddle-jumping competitions for the biggest splash

If you're not in the city, oh boy, they're hunting for the biggest mud pit they can find and pulling you into a match

Does not have the healthy fear of lightning that he should. Will stand in the middle of a field or try to climb a tree for a better view, and you have heard him at his loudest when he shouts back at it

The foamiest hot bath when you get home, they'll spend the rest of the evening curled up with you in front of the fire with hot chocolate

(They don't like using their umbrella anyways, so it turned into a magical art project)

Nadia

Rain holds unusually fond family memories for her

For starters, it usually signaled a drop in temperature, which was a welcome break in the tropical Prakran climate

But back home in Prakra with six busy older siblings and royalty for parents, thunderstorms were when everybody took a break and spent the day together in the palace with games and tea

She doesn't have to think twice about continuing that tradition with you

She'll usually give everyone the afternoon off once basic Palace upkeep tasks are finished and spend it with you

She loves sitting on the veranda with you in the afternoon, commenting on the lightning and listening to the thunder and rain, drinking tea with you and telling you stories of her childhood

As soon as it starts to get dark she's taking you inside and putting together a dinner in the kitchens. You and the palace chefs know she doesn't really cook, so they'll leave some "ingredients" to find

"Ingredients" often being a cold roast bird of some kind, a freshly baked loaf of bread "hidden" in the cupboard, a bowl of greens with the dressing on a different table, and two "forgotten" plates of dessert

You don't know if she knows that kitchens aren't usually like that, and you have no intention of telling her otherwise

She'll retire with you to her chambers early, so she can lie in bed with the windows open and listen to your voice and the rain

(She has a collection of umbrellas for different outfits, mostly used for garden events)

Muriel

You didn't expect it, but Muriel feels supremely at peace when it rains

As a kid, it was one of the only times when the city would get quiet. He could go out in the rain, and just for once, walk as far as he wanted to without bumping into anyone or being looked at

He could stand in the middle of the widest street and hold as still and breathe as deeply as he wanted to without a single person yelling at him to move

And nobody wanted to attend the roofless Coliseum when it was raining

Out in the woods? It's even better

He takes a quiet pride in knowing that for once the forest is louder than the people are

And the cold doesn't bother him in the slightest

There's a part of the hut roof that juts out by several feet and he keeps a stool there. He'll lean back into the tree roots and stone wall, watching the curtain of rain an arm's length away with a contented smile

To him, rain sounds and smells like freedom and new beginnings

He'll never pressure you to join him, but he'll be so happy if you do

It's an atmosphere where he's the most at home in his own body, so you can expect him to initiate a lot more physical touch

He'll be comfortable enough to pull you into his lap and wrap a cloak around the two of you to keep you warm and dry

Gentle kisses against the cold stone, wrapped up in his warmth and a thick blanket while the earth smells fresh and the rain tap dances on the leaves all around you

(Asra got it for him as a gag gift and he unironically adores it and uses it all the time)

Portia

She gets super irritable when it rains

Do you know? What hair like hers likes to do? When it gets this humid? Do you know? How much time it takes? To clean up the bucketloads of mud? That Pepi tracks all over the floor?

Yeah, she didn't think so

She doesn't talk about it (and frankly, she's not the introspective type, so she might not even be aware of it) but the trauma of that shipwreck stays with her even if she can't remember it completely

So no, she doesn't get flashbacks or nightmares, but as soon as it starts thundering she's plagued with a sense of unease and danger that she just can't shake

She also associates it with watching her teenaged older brother panic and meltdown, which isn't the most positive memory

And of course, it doesn't help that rainy days mean keeping a very active person cooped up inside with nothing to do but keep house

She'll spend the first few hours obsessively getting her space in order - meal prepping, cleaning, organizing, list-writing

It's better not to get involved until there's nothing left for her to do

That's your cue to help her tie back her hair, brew some soothing tea (or something stronger, if she's really fidgety) and sit with her on the couch while she talks a mile a minute all about her week

It will take a few years, but eventually she'll come to associate rain with you so strongly that she might even come to love it

(She likes having the brightest, most distracting umbrella possible for such miserable weather)

Lucio

He doesn't like thunderstorms. At all

He's generally tougher than he acts - he grew up with Morga as a parent, after all - but his brand of bad weather as a kid was snowstorms and blizzards and fierce winds

Not all this business with metal-attracted bolts of sky electricity and sudden, loud noises and water that makes everything muddy and gets everywhere (especially on the dogs!)

Unless it's impossible, he's spending thunderstorms inside, no matter how tight your budget is

As soon as it becomes anything more than a light drizzle, he's cancelling all of today's plans and going off in search of affordable, effective shelter

If he had it his way, he'd do his best to sleep through the whole weather event hunkered down beneath a pile of quilts and blankets

The problem is with Mercedes and Melchior. They love the rain

There's mud! There's exciting new smells! Let them out, let them out to play!

And Lucio, of course, will let them out like the doting dog dad he is, and then they'll come back inside with their white fur drenched and matted with mud and shake it all over everything

The only thing all three of them agree on is that lightning and thunder = bad

The dogs of course have sensitive ears, and no matter how many times he hears it, it always makes Lucio jump (too unexpected)

Your cuddles will be desperately sought after and much appreciated

(The first umbrella is the one Lucio wanted to buy. The second is what he got, because it needs to fit in his traveling pack)

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

[ladyyatexel]

BONJOUR!!!!

🥳🦋😎 if you please <3

BONFUCKINGJOUR MY ELLY ☆¤•°°~

🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?

A friend made me! I had an idea I was really enamored with when I started college and I drew it all the time. A friend asked me when I was going to write it. I told friend I don't write like this, it is too embarrassing. She asked if I would do it just for her.

I was so absolutely mortified by what I was doing that my first page of writing in a notebook was blacked out in most places with a marker as though the FBI thought it would shatter capitalism if anyone saw it.

My friend later told me that what I made was too good to do nothing with and she would put the word document online if I didn't. And so I was blackmailed into posting it and now it's the JTHM AU that has its own mini fandom with cosplay and everything.

I have forgiven friend :p

🦋 Which character is your favorite to write?

This feels really difficult and like I might have to split it up by fandom?

JtHM - SWAN-verse Nny. He's a smart charming asshole, he's a delight. (But also Tenna.)

DD9 - Probably Julian, who is navigating a sudden orientation being dropped in his lap that he needs to slowly dissect. He tries very hard and he's a huge dork but he's very smart and it makes him a lovely brain to be in.

B5 - lol g'kar. He takes nothing seriously, except when he suddenly does and it is profound poetry. He's so fun.

Yugioh - Malik and Ryou. Malik frantically flipping through all of his mental Rolodex looking for the right conversation card to use in a situation and Ryou does not have anything like that and they are both trying to be sincere and gentle people who other people are afraid to see Angry. Malik may be a little more fun because he's going through more machinery to get out what he says and does. Ryou is floating through life, there's smarts and observations, but the mechanisms that are Machinery inside of Malik are organic in Ryou.

😎 What fics do you prefer on a scale of canon compliant to wildly original?

THIS IS A JUICY ONE ISN'T IT? I am a captive tiger on enrichment day and the giant jack o lantern is full of ENTRAILS.

So, my most successful things turned out to be AUs. I don't read AUs. Don't know what that means.

In general, what I want to read is a post canon continuation of sewing feelings and plot threads back together. I love keeping canon as it is for the justified sanctioned foundation it gives me to frame what I want in.

I often can't be bothered with story establishing relationshipd in the middle of the canon because then in me it inspires thoughts of why they did not behave as they would have considering their feelings for B Guy! I need the Canon to be over so that new Canon doesn't get the chance to hit me in the back of the head with a piece of lead pipe.

As soon as old things begin making new canon material I'm like "Aaaaahhhh No you might damage my baseline!" Luckily, additional Canon, like comics or books, is more easily ignored than more of a show, if that's what your source material was.

My AU things mostly come up when the show finished and i need to fix the way we ended. And then it becomes wildly made up.

My Babylon 5 stuff is in a super vague grey area.

Deep Dish Nine is full pizxa shop AU.

reSWAN is both a high school AU AND a canon timeline extending AU. which is also a musical where everyone is gay.

Strange Shapes is normal post canon nothing in canon avoided or ignored.

Same with painkiller, not that those folks are reading this or anything.

#fanfic meme

[kholkate]

Julian lingered long after the others had broken up and gone with Pat to practice his line dancing. Cap, upon finishing his tale, had gone to stand in front of the fireplace which was lit with flames licking up the chimney. Silently he came to stand beside the man, placing a hand on his shoulder firmly and catching his eye as he stepped up.

"You know, through the years we have gotten on each other's nerves and had our differences, but I have always admired you. Even more now, it takes courage to talk about your death, admit things about yourself like that," he said.

Cap was slightly surprised by their sudden closeness, the earnest look on Julian's face.

"I…I just felt it was time," he responded.

"I know. And I feel it is time for me to say something, or rather, to do something that I have thought about for the last twenty years or so," Julian said.

With that he moved in, hand slipping to the side of the Captain’s face, the man instinctively closed his eyes and went at ease as their lips met. The kiss was chaste, not naughty as he always imagined Julian kissed, just a brief moment of calm, relieved, bliss in front of the dancing fire.

The lips withdrew, too soon, and Cap opened his eyes after a second or two, still soaking in the feeling. Julian's hand slid from his face down to his hand for a squeeze before letting go altogether.

"Would you like to go dancing- James?" He asked, raising a brow with a warm smile.

"Quite," Cap said, though he walked a few steps behind the tall MP on the way.

Alison had said life was changing, Cap could feel a drastic turn in the headwinds coming his way, it caused him to grip his stick in fear and delight.

#what I feel should have happened in ep 5 #bbc ghosts #my writing

[skaldingrayne]

Titles! How about: When the Sun Rises

Title: When the Sun Rises

Pairing: Jaskier/Geralt/Eskel/Lambert

In the garden of the king, it was said there were wonders the like of which most men could only dream of. Massive fountains that sounded like music, flowers as large as a man's head and smelling of the sweetest perfumes, fruits so sweet and delicious it was as if heaven itself was on your tongue.

But in the very center of all these delights, was also the source of the king's greatest pain. Three statues stood, in the heart of the garden; said to be the cursed stone forms of his three wards, whom the king held dearer than if they were the very sons he could never have.

Every child had heard the story, of course. The powerful sorcerous he'd crossed, the spell cast, the curse -

Stone hearted you are

So stone they shall be

Caught in marble guises

But change your tune

By love transformed be

Freed when the sun rises

The part about the great riches - a prince's ransom, in fact - that should be the reward of any to break said curse tended to particularly stick in the memory.

Money like that could open doors; could buy a whole new life. It could certainly cover the tuition at Oxenfurt Academy for one aspiring, but penniless, bard-to-be.

Which is how Julian Pancratz - known to his fans as Jaskier the Singer, the local constabulary as "that damn troublemaking popinjay", and to the local shrubbery as "Ow!" - found himself covered in leaves and scratches while standing in the middle of the royal gardens at a terribly ungodly hour before dawn.

He was growing frustrated.

He'd already tried the classic kiss, of course - giving each of the three statues a peck on the lips in turn. He'd even - feeling very much the fool, thank you - tried a few so called "magic words" he'd once heard from some of the story tellers that would come sit with their begging cup in the market square.

Wait...

"Please?"

The statues remained extremely stone-like.

Damn.

If one didn't know about the curse, you could almost believe them the work of a master carver. Each of the three figures was incredibly handsome, though in a way entirely unlike the other two.

Based on the stories he'd heard, Jaskier could only guess this tall man with deliciously broad shoulders and an intriguing scar across one side of his face could only be Eskel; the son of some border lord hailing from hill tribes of the north.

To his left stood a shorter, slighter man with a piercing stare and an impressionably aquiline nose. Lambert, probably - son of a western Duke that had tried to rebel some years ago, before the King had had him put to the sword for treason. He had named the Duchess as her son's regent, and brought the boy himself to the palace to ensure he grew up with a much greater respect for loyalty than his father.

Jaskier wondered if it had worked. The statue's expression was frozen in a smirk; as if he knew a joke and was only waiting for the right moment to share it with you.

Which of course meant the third statue was the child sent by the druids of the south, to learn the ways of the court and be their representative. Geralt, he was called, of the White Wolf Grove.

He knew their stories, knew their song too - the one the great bard Dandelion had penned about them some years back, commissioned by the king himself in honor of his cursed wards.

But what he didn't know, was how to break this bloody curse.

He flopped onto the grass, exhausted after being up all night, not to mention sneaking into the gardens themselves. During the day, they were too filled with would-be curse breakers, all lined up and hoping to get lucky.

But now, lying on his back in the cool grass with the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn, it was quiet. Beautiful, even.

Jaskier glanced again at the three statues and sighed.

Well, it was worth a try, right?

He wondered if they'd ever heard their song. Standing here all this time, had anyone ever bothered to play it for them?

It really was a lovely piece. Jaskier had sung it practically ever day as a child. Even then, he'd loved to sing, loved it more than...than almost anything.

He hadn't brought his lute of course. Even as sorry as that old banged up third hand instrument was, it was still too precious to him to risk losing should he find himself needing to flee from some overly zealous palace guard.

Which, speaking of...

Jaskier eyed the still lightening sky, the first edges of pink just kissing the horizon. Better get back before it was light enough for them to spot him. Those hedges sure weren't going to climb themselves.

But...

He turned, not quiet sure why; looking once more at the stone grey eyes of the cursed statues.

It really would be a shame to stand here for ages, see all these people day in and day out, without ever knowing why.

What could five more minutes hurt, really?

It's not like Jaskier had classes to get to or anything.

And so...he sang. There, sitting up in the middle of the small circle of statues in the heart of the palace gardens, he sang about loss and heartache, about family and gifts, about love - and about regret.

And when he finished, as the last note faded into the air and he finally opened his eyes -

He heard three more pairs of lungs draw breath alongside his own.

Three sets of eyes, their gazes locked on him; flashing golden in the dawn's light as the sun began to rise.

@continentcakeshop @oxenfurt-archives

#witcher fic #geraskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #ask games #this was NOT supposed to be an actual fic DAMMIT #pre-relationship