#anyway I miss the arcana and the good part of the fandom. the part that left... the friends I made in the fanfom 😔

[yumenari]

Guys did you know today is the birthday of the loml (and their snake familiar)

[perplexedflower]

Debito Fluff Alphabet - [Y]earning

Fandom: La storia della Arcana Famiglia.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Debito x Female Reader.

Type: Fluff Alphabet.

Y) Yearning: How he copes when missing you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Debito is not the kind of man to heavily miss things or people, although there are things he would have trouble living without on a daily basis. But when it comes to individuals, it is no hard task for him to get through the days without being around certain people, without missing them too much. This is also something that applies to you, and something that you've come to notice over time: while Luca could not survive even 24 hours without seeing Felicità, Debito has no trouble not seeing you for a day, though it doesn't mean it won't make him even just a little sad. Whenever the two of you have to part ways for a certain period of time, which, granted, very rarely happens anyway, you know that he's got his yearning under control, and that he's got his tricks and methods to deal with it. These include thinking of you in detail, reminding himself of the last time you and he spent time together, reminiscing about your voice, your smell, your body, and you can be sure that he also thinks ahead of time of what your reunion will be like, the things he'll do with you and the places he'll take you to once you come back to each other. When recalling all these things, Debito never thinks of the bad times, the bad moments, the bad things that you two have gone through, and instead will focus on the positive, on the good memories. You also know that whenever you're not around him for some time, he won't hesitate to talk about you to other people, just to make it seem as though you're there, with him, a way to maintain your presence by his side, until you come back to him, or that he comes back to you. It's rare for the two of you to get separated from each other, mainly because both of you are part of the Family, and so you see each other every day; but you're aware that during those rare times, when one of you has to leave the other for some time, he'll manage to cope just fine without you, waiting to see you again.

Mini Scene

"You're sure you're going to be okay without me?"

"For the third time, amore, yes."

"Alright... I just wanted to make sure." I said with a gentle smile and a chuckle as I slowly nodded.

Debito and I were in his bedroom, halfway through the morning, the two of us lying on his bed. While he was resting on his stomach, shirtless, I was sitting on his lower back, passionately rubbing his back with my hands, massaging it up and down.

"... I just don't want to see you running back to me with tears in your eye when you come back." I continued with a playful scoff.

"Hey, Bambina, you know I won't." He claimed in an assertive tone, as if to maintain his image.

Later that day, Debito would have to leave the Family and the manor for a short period of time, just a few days, but it was the first time he and I would be away from each other for so long, although his trip would not even make him leave the island, simply taking him to its other side. I knew I had nothing to worry about, I knew he would not have trouble coping with missing me, but I could not help but tease him; and, deep down, imagining him missing my presence around him felt satisfying, comforting, even.

"I can always come with you, if you really want me to." I added as I leaned closer against his naked back.

"Love, you know you—"

"I know I can't, yes." I cut him off with a smile. "It's essential for me to stay here, for the Family and my division, yada yada..."

With the palm of my hands still pressing the skin of his back, Debito suddenly and silently turned around, flipping his body around underneath mine. Now sitting over his crotch, his bare chest facing me, he grabbed my sides and dragged me down on him, until our faces were only inches apart from one another.

"Hey, Bambina, are you maybe saying all this because you're the one who's gonna miss me?" He asked me with a teasing smile, his head slightly tilted.

He scoffed upon seeing my red cheeks and shy pout, then kissed my lips with passion.

[bogkeep]

theo’s tarot collection

hi hello i suffer from a terrible ailment called I Keep Acquiring New Tarot Decks Even Though I Am A Tarot Newbie.... so i figured i could do a little writeup about my decks if anyone is interested in that :’) basically i started doing tarot in 2019 because i couldn’t get a hold of a therapist (i was put on a year long waitlist WAHOO) so i basically. self-medicated with tarot readings hahaha. i had a friend who gave me a lot of really good advice and had done some readings for me before who felt immensely comforting. the way i read them is like... it allows you to confront your situation and your emotions through a new angle, but you gotta be brave enough to do it - or ask someone to do it for you. it can be a really intense but also cathartic experience. it’s not for everyone! but i like it. i still consider myself a novice and still learning so i am not in ANY way trying to paint myself as a Knowledgabl Tarot Witch - in a perfect timeline that’s who i wish i was, but i’m ultimately just some guy with a solid appreciation for art and personal growth.

ANYWAY... onto my DECKS (the tumblr post will probably squish the quality outta my photos so i’m gonna link the URLs for Full View)

Children of Litha by Alexandria Huntington

i consider this my main and first deck (i am NOT counting the official homestuck deck i bought as a teen just because i wanted to look at the art. no offense to the homestuck deck i’m just not gonna use fandom decks)! i picked it out but my Tarot Friend gifted it to me... i think it’s a very good starter deck for me personally, and it’s the deck i’ve bonded with and used the most. i even put a fancy sticker on the box as part of the bonding process. i always feel so bad for all of my other decks because i haven’t been able to dedicate as much time for them as i have this one... so it’s definitely the deck i go to for the most accurate readings for myself. Vibes and Thematic Coherence: the art in this is so beautiful and elegant. the symbolism more or less draws on the classic smith-waite deck, but redrawn for its theme. i like that it has a very consistent imagery! out of the major arcana, the fool is the only fully human character - every other character is part animal in some way or other. then the suit of swords depicts birds, winged insects and the air element, coins depict ungulates and equines and earth, wands has felines and canines and fiery imagery, and cups has fish and creatures of and in the sea. the court cards have humans. the suit symbols are always depicted consistently, as white silhouettes. there are also two extra cards: the all and the void. Pamphlet: the reason i think this was a good starter deck is because both because the art feels very intuitive about what it depicts (to me, at least), the descriptions in the pamphlet describe what is happening and why the artist chose this motif for this card. it has honestly helped me remember the meanings a lot, because i’ll be reading the other decks and be like “oh that’s the octopus card i know what the octopus card is about”. there are also little poems next to the main descriptions that work as a pretty solid tl;dr for the core meanings. i also like that the court cards are referred to in the sense of like... a knight is “a young person with masculine energy” rather than “a young man”. it feels more fluid and vibe-y about gender than traditional decks ya feel. on a range from Abstract to Directness this one feels like it sits pretty comfortable in the middle, maybe leaning on Abstractness. it has always given me gentle instructions and advice.

Cardfeel: the cards are very smooth and nice with gold edges. the cards are not NOT solid, but i wish they had been a little thicker because i’m always afraid i’m going to accidentally damage them - but that’s probably a feeling i have about most of my possessions tbh!! i think they’re a good size, too, at least for my small hands. they’re more on the long/slender side so they are good for me to shuffle. i also like the box, it’s a hard flip box with a magnet. i think u can’t go wrong with that. this is the deck i’ve travelled with the most (did u know hotel beds are the best tarot reading spaces. for some reason they just Work). The Spacious Tarot by Annie Ruygt and Carrie Mallon

this is one i really like a lot and want to use more! i absolutely adore the concept of it, but it’s a little harder for me to read than the Litha one. Vibes and Thematic Coherence: this one is like!!! it’s about the open space and the quietness. the vibes are IMMACULATE. the cards aren’t filled to the brim with happenstance and symbolism, but they each feel like a little refuge. very meditative. i also like that the court cards are not gendered at all - there is no page, knight, queen and king, but rather child, explorer, guardian and elder. i am really into that, especially as steps of mastery of their suit. i do think that this deck is probably easier to read if you’re more experienced with tarot meanings and symbolisms, because the illustrations aren’t necessarily that intuitive. Pamphlet: i haven’t read through this one very much, but i think it’s more on the abstract side of the Abstract to Direct scale. it might just feel like that because it describes what the card symbolizes without drawing much on what the card depicts - it is generally a pretty abstract and meditative deck. i like it for what it is! but it’s harder for me to read than my main Litha deck. Cardfeel: there’s something about the cardfeel i wish was different. they’re perfectly ok cards, they’re smooth and not too thin, but i still wish they had had more heft or something. while the cards fit very well into my hands i think maybe they could’ve been Larger to emphasize their motifs of openness and space. or texture. or gilded edges. i really don’t know what i want. the box however is very good and easy to open and use!! never underestimate a good box.

Tarot of the Divine by Yoshi Toshitani

this is a deck i Had To Get because i knew the artist was working on it and i was always Planning To... it is not a deck i use very often but i absolutey adore it. you can also get it with an accompanying fairytale book, i thought i had ordered that but i was Wronge. Vibes and Thematic Coherency: it depicts motifs and characters from stories, myths, and fairytales from a vast variety of cultures. it’s AMAZING. the art is so clean and crisp and i was VERY EXCITED to find a card drawing on a sami story (page of coins)! i don’t have a lot to say except that yoshi yoshitani has done some incredible work on this. Pamphlet: while i do not have the Fairytale Book edition, the pamphlet is really super nice because it shows pictures of the cards, lists what story it depicts and where the story is from, gives a short description for how this scene or character embodies the card. it then lists some of the Card Characteristics beneath. very simple but very nice. i really like pamphlets that explain Why the artist picked the motifs they did - for me personally it really helps me connect to the deck and their symbols. it’s probably more on the Direct side of the scale thanks to this. Cardfeel: these are textured!! they feel like the playing card deck my grandmother has, which feels apt to me. textures make the cards feel solid to me. they’re also a very nice size to hold. the edges are not guilded, but with the white frames it looks good and nice. the box is nice but also Large, possibly to fit with the book? might not be ideal for travel, but there’s nothing stopping you from getting a different box or pouch.

The Star Spinner Tarot by Trung Le Nguyen

my most recent deck... i KNEW about the artist and the deck from before, but wasn’t PLANNING to get it, but then i saw it in the comic book store and i wasn’t able to pass it by. no regrets, it’s a wonderful deck. Vibes and Thematic Coherence: absolutely lovely art and style. it’s another deck drawing on fairytale themed motifs. i’m loving the use of colors and circles. it also has four different cards for the Lovers so you can choose which one(s) speak to you the most, something i think is just wonderful. i think the only thing i found a little... odd? was that the suit of Wands looks kinda same-y, which isn’t a bad thing, but it was the only suit that looked that way to me. they’re still very very nice. ALSO THE BACK OF THE CARDS ARE SHINY. I JUST THINK THAT’S VERY LOVELY. as a Physical Product these are chef’s kiss. Pamphlet: on the Abstract to Directness scale, these are VERY DIRECT. the pamphlet doesn’t say a lot about why the cards depict what they do, but go straight into card meaning, and in a very unambiguous way. i think it can both work very well, leaving you little room to avoid your feelings, but it also has a higher margin to miss completely. for being such a cutesy deck full of fairies the pamphlet is definitely giving you a smack at the side of your head. i haven’t used this deck a lot yet due to its newness, but i definitely want to try it out more to see what it does to me.

Cardfeel: out of all of my decks i think this has the best cardfeel... the cards feel really solid, and have a very good size that feel just right for them. like i sort of fell in love with the deck when i actually started shuffling it and browsing the cards. buying cards - especially on the internet - can be a gamble because you Can’t Know The Cardfeel. with decks like the Spacious Tarot i got a little dissappointed, but this one was a very pleasant surprise. also the box is very good and look like a work of art. The Fyodor Pavlov Tarot

honestly one of my new favourite decks that i ABSOLUTELY am going to use more and become more familiar with. also a deck that i knew the artist was working on, and supported the kickstarter the moment it was announced. my deck also came with two Magician cards and i don’t know why. extra wizard for me??? Vibes and Thematic Coherence: the look and feel of this deck is Immaculate. it looks very classical and traditional (and absolutely gorgeous), it is grounded in the classical smith-waite imagery but Expands Upon It, draws on the diversity of human culture and experiences... also loving the energy of “THIS CARD IS TRANS NOW AND THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT” many cards have (most famously the Lovers, but i don’t want to post pics of any of the cards depicting nudity or risqué themes on tumblr). i absolutely adore the knight of coins card (THE HORSE IS HIS FRIEND AND SERVICE ANIMAL!!). it’s just Really Very Good. also the backside has pretty Shiny stars and i like it. Pamphlet: i really like this one. it is a deeply personal pamphlet, where fyodor pavlov directly discusses his relationship to the cards and why he chose the motifs he did. it feels really grounded in the world we live in, and also such a vulnerable thing to share with us all. it’s on the Direct side of the scale without necessarily telling you “the card is definitely this one thing”. my only wish is that it was easier to navigate at a glance. Cardfeel: THEY ARE TEXTURED!!! these cards are definitely long and slender and benefit someone with larger hands than mine, but i still like them a lot. i do wish they had been a smidge heavier just so i wouldn’t worry so much about damaging them... but i don’t want to be ungrateful. the deck and the box are wonderfully crafted. The Botanica Tarot by Kevin Jay Stanton

oh boy did i support the kickstarter for this one... i had actually bought the major arcana when it was the only version available, and then the artist decided to make a full deck. it’s an absolute work of art. Vibes and Thematic Coherence: oh boy oh boy does it serve vibes and thematic coherence. it’s Plants all the way down, OBVIOUSLY, but also like... every card in the minor arcana depicts their suit in its own way. like the range of coins/currency from various times and cultures?? AMAZING. looking at the art of this deck is a DELIGHT. every card manages to be beautiful and interesting despite there not being a single living creature depicted on any of them. i WILL say they, same as the spacious tarot, are not the most intuitive to read if you’re not super familiar with either the Plants or the meanings of the cards. Pamphlet: you can fit so much plant knowledge in this one. i got a version of the deck with a beautiful little book, but there’s also a small pamphlet that follows the deck itself (which i admittedly have not looked too closely at yet). there’s descriptions for why this specific plant has been chosen for each card, and then some Card Meaning Keywords. so definitely on the Abstract side of my imaginary tarot pamphlet scale, because you mostly have plant symbolism to go on. i haven’t done a lot of readings with this deck, i’ll be honest - but it’s a beautiful treasure that i adore. Cardfeel: they’re Smoothe and Guilded edges. they can feel a little wide for my hands, but not so much that i cannot shuffle. i think maybe a smidge of texture wouldve been good with this deck since it would fit the look of the painted art. i also did get like... a big kickstarter reward version of this deck. it came in a tin box with extra treasures and a cloth and pins... the actual card box itself is beautiful to look at, but i have to say that the one i got is VERY HARD TO OPEN. i might transfer the cards into a pouch if i want to be reading them more often. IKEA deck

yes this is a meme deck and i don’t really use it but I WANTED TO SHARE... i think the major arcana is very cool and funny, but i was dissappointed to find that the suit cards are just “ikea part but Multiple Times”. it also does not come with a pamphlet. also yes yes it’s funny that the names of the cards are spelled in a “silly ikea word language” BUT IKEA NAMES ARE JUST SWEDISH....... IT’S NOT A SECRET LANGUAGE IT’S JUST SWEDISH............ it’s a funny deck to have and it doesn’t take up much space so eh! shrugs!!! The Lubanko Tarot by Emily Lubanko

another kickstarter deck... it’s gorgeous but there is a chance i might gift it to someone else. not because i regret getting it or don’t like it, but because i already have so many decks that speak to me, while this one gives me vibes of serving someone else better. does that make any sense? i admittedly haven’t looked at the pamplet so much so i think i’m going to skip that description for this one. Vibes and Thematic Coherency: the MOVEMENT and the COLORS... it’s Capturing Feelings in a really good way. i mean. i got it for the vibes and it’s serving vibes. Cardfeel: Smoothe Cards. shiny silver edges, like a slippery fish in a rapid river. it feels good and right for this deck. also good box. i know most of these decks have Good Box, it’s just the botanica one that let me down by being difficult. The Oriens Tarot by AmbiSun

i don’t have this deck anymore, i gifted it to my boyfriend... i found these pics on my twitter. it’s one of the first decks i supported on kickstarter and it’s VERY pretty, and it has HOLOGRAPHIC RAINBOW EDGES HOT DAMN. it’s another one of those instances where i Yearned for it and then found that it didn’t fit me as well as i had hoped. tarot is just one of those things where you have to find what Works for you. at this time the children of litha was working so well for me and i really liked the depiction of animals in it, i wasn’t able to connect to another animal deck in the same way... and it was before my tarot collection snowballed into what i have now. C’EST LA VIE ... i don’t have a smith-waite deck. i’m a fake tarot fan. i am however familiarizing myself by following Jessica Dore on twitter and subscribing to her monthly newsletters. i really love how she talks about these cards and how she interprets them.

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 9: Isolation

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: skalfjwealjf I live for the angst

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Your head was pounding. The stone you leaned against seemed to bounce with the throbbing of your head. A soft wet cloth was dabbed against it. Droplets trickled down your forehead and over your cheek only to be wiped away by a familiar hand.

Liu Kang.

You opened your eyes and found yourself curled against the wall in Raiden’s chamber. That was right. He’d had to read you after all that had happened in the fight pit. Each time you woke up from these experiences you had to face the terror of finding your friends injured and exhausted. But this time they didn’t seem to be any different than when you’d last seen them. Liu Kang’s eyes were filled with concern but he said nothing as he dabbed your burning skin. He offered you the faintest flicker of a smile to acknowledge that you were awake.

Behind him sat Kung Lao with his knees folded. He looked nervous. He had several scrapes that had been tended to while you’d been unconscious. Liu Kang looked like he hadn’t bothered seeing anyone for his.

“She’s awake.” Kung Lao’s eyes darted to the side as Raiden approached from somewhere behind him.

“Good.”

The guilt was overwhelming. Again. Guilt for hurting them. Guilt for being so useless in those moments. You’d been strong once but now you felt as though that were something you were incapable of. It was frustrating. You’d felt strong for just a few seconds before it had all gone horribly wrong.

“We must unravel this curse.” Raiden crouched next to where you were leaning. “I fear that there is not much time left for us to do so.” You had nothing to say. He was right. You knew that. “I think that we must uncover who you truly are, Y/N.”

“We know who she is.” Kung Lao was defensive. He’d always been defensive when it came to that kind of thing. Even as kids, he’d stood up for you when anyone questioned you.

“Kung Lao, that is not what I meant. I mean that there is more to her than what we know. I have a feeling that this thing is a part of you that’s hidden away, Y/N. Your gift of sight is unrelated to your arcana. I think that the answer might lie in your heritage. Something isn’t connecting. We have only parts of the full picture. There is a mystery within your mystery. I wish for you to return to the place where you were born to try and uncover it.”

“Most people went to Guilin for more complicated medical procedures. That’s probably a good place to start.” Kung Lao was again at your defense.

“I wasn’t born there,” You finally spoke but your voice sounded tired. Liu Kang kept dabbing the cloth over your forehead. The cold was soothing but it also gave you the shivers. You were freezing. It was probably a damn fever again. You missed having normal crappy days. Days where you’d been fine other than an annoying sinus headache or a stubbed toe. Everyday seemed to be something new and horrible now. At least it didn’t seem like you’d hurt anyone after you’d given yourself over to Raiden so he could understand what you’d seen. “I was born in South Korea. My parents moved to China shortly after I was born.”

“Really?” Kung Lao was surprised, maybe even a little annoyed that he hadn’t known that about you. He had been the Y/N-expert thus far. It was kind of charming how defensive he was over you.

“Yeah. Mom’s Korean and Dad’s Chinese. I’m trying to remember where it was.” You furrowed your brow and massaged your temple. Liu smoothed your hair back and you gave him a look but he averted his eyes with a slight smile. “Andong, I think. I meant to visit as I got older but never got around to it. I used to have the address to their old apartment but… that’s been lost. If I looked at a map, then I could probably at least find some familiar names.”

“When you have recovered then you will go to Andong.” Raiden instructed.

“To what end?” You frowned. What did he expect you to find there? It wasn’t like there would be answers hiding in any obvious places. For all you knew the apartment your parents had shared before they’d moved to China had been demolished and replaced with something else. And it wasn’t like you could ask anyone. Your remaining family thought you were dead.

“Start with birth records. There are memories, Y/N. Memories that I cannot see.

He could see your memories? Oh no. You didn’t like that.

“Memories?”

“Important parts of your history are locked away. They are hidden much like parts of your visions are. Someone doesn’t want you to know what is hidden there. Someone doesn’t want us to know. You must uncover these truths.”

“I still don’t understand how I’m supposed to do that.” It felt impossible.

“You will find a way. I have faith.” Raiden’s encouraging smile backed with the determination behind his eyes was encouraging even if you were running out of hope that there was anything after this for you other than being locked away until you withered and ultimately died. “Find a connection to your birthplace. Find your story where it starts. At the beginning.” When he said it, it made perfect sense but you still had no idea what you were looking for. “Liu Kang and Kung Lao will accompany you. I have a feeling that whatever has been hidden from you will be quite dangerous to reveal.”

“Okay.” You had no room to argue with a god. Any idea was better than no idea and Raiden seemed confident. Going to where the artifacts had been hidden in your vision had yielded results. If Lord Raiden thought that you needed to visit Andong and look at your birth records then you would.

“I’ll still take you to the city before we go. I promised.” Kung Lao smiled brightly at you. He seemed to be a beacon of positivity in a room of heavy energy.

“I could probably get what I need in Andong.” You didn’t see the point of taking a separate trip. You were far less worried about that now anyway. What was the likelihood that you even could get pregnant? You were so sick. Your body barely had any energy to give to you nonetheless a baby. You were pretty sure that something akin to a parasite would not survive within what you were now considering an inhospitable environment.

“No, no. I promised we’d go. And it’ll be a nice break before we go to Korea.” Kung Lao smiled and this suddenly seemed important to him so you weren’t going to argue. You didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, you could use a few new things. “One of the monks offered to come with us just in case you needed medical assistance. Your friend. The mean one.”

“Chen?” You could not mentally comprehend the embarrassment of going on a trip with Chen and Kung Lao to the city so you could buy condoms and birth control because of Liu Kang. Later. That would be a horrible situation for later. Right now you were feeling too exhausted and defeated to deal with unpacking that. “Is that safe?”

“With Kung Lao there you should be fine.” Liu Kang spoke for the first time since you’d woken up. His voice sounded weary. He’d cleaned up but his scrapes on his face and arms weren’t tended to. The guilt again. It was awful.

“Raiden said he’d be on alert in case anything went wrong.”

“I just don’t know if it makes sense to do anything unnecessary right now.” You were afraid to go out into the world again.

“You can’t stop living because something might happen.” Liu bowed his head politely, clasping the prayer beads in his palm. He’d stopped dabbing your forehead. You knew he was right but it didn’t mean it was easy for you to consider putting anyone in harm’s way.

“Rest for a day or two. But no longer. There is work to be done.”

“I don’t think that whatever this is plans on allowing me to recover. It almost feels like… this happened because I had regained some ground earlier. It felt the need to take it away from me. I don’t know if that’s crazy or not.” You were sure that sounded silly. But judging by the look on everyone’s faces, they didn’t think it was crazy or silly at all.

“Rest, Y/N.” Raiden bowed his head.

“I’ll bring you to your new space so you can do that.” Liu Kang set aside the cloth, next to the bowl he’d been getting water from on the floor. He seemed to have much more to say on the matter but held his tongue. You guessed that whatever it was he wanted to say would be said in a private conversation later.

“I’ll start moving things.” Kung Lao jumped to his feet and dusted off his hands. Raiden offered you his hand and you took it. You were wobbly and exhausted, hands tingling. What had happened while you’d been out of it to make you feel this drained?

“Don’t be defeated. We will figure this out. I have a feeling that we’re close. Like you said, you were getting stronger when this happened. Whoever is behind this wants you to feel defeated. They want you to feel like you have no control. We will not allow that to happen.” Raiden’s determination on your behalf was remarkable. It must have been much easier to make lofty promises while being a god. You were a little touched that they were so willing to help you but the truth was that you were weak. You felt weak. The little bit of strength that you’d regained had been taken from you. You felt like you could have gone to sleep and never woken up. If it hadn’t been for Liu Kang and Kung Lao then you probably would have.

You thought that whoever was behind this was doing an exceptional job. Not to compliment them or anything but you were defeated. You were exhausted. At the end of your rope, even. Liu Kang offered you his arm and you took it. Raiden watched you go. Kung Lao chattered along the way but neither you nor Liu had much to say in return. It didn’t bother Kung Lao. He was happy to fill the silence.

“What happened when I was out this time?” You asked when Kung Lao parted ways with you. He was headed to your old room to gather some of your things while Liu Kang brought you to your new room. A much more isolated place. It was a far longer walk so far. Liu Kang sighed heavily as if he did not wish to discuss this. You were sure it was something ridiculous like talking in crazy demon voices and ink exploding out of you. “Come on, tell me.” You wanted to understand the exhaustion you were feeling.

“Nothing happened.” Liu didn’t sound very convincing.

“Bull.” You tried to joke but Liu Kang stopped walking in the hallway. He grabbed your hand to stop you from walking too and then stepped closer to you. He took your other hand and held both between you.

“Really. Nothing happened. You just… laid there.” He seemed more upset by this than he had been when you’d been speaking in odd voices and making ink thrones and dragons. “Raiden thinks that you were too drained to do more. At least that’s what he said.”

“And you don’t believe him?”

“I think that Raiden finds it easy to avoid saying things that might make us act rashly.” Liu Kang didn’t sound like he approved of the idea but he didn’t sound angry about it either. “Or sometimes he thinks it is better not to mention them.”

“And what is it you think he’s not saying” You didn’t like his tone. You didn’t like the implications. Liu Kang seemed to be the one avoiding saying what he thought was happening. He looked down at your hands and suddenly you understood without him having to say it at all. That was why Raiden had said that he didn’t think there was much time left.

Oh.

“We’re going to figure this out.”

“I’m not dying, Liu Kang.” You sounded awfully confident for a woman who had just considered going to sleep and never getting back up. Liu averted his eyes but you could see the slightest smile on his lips.

“I know.” He decided after a long moment of silence. “I won’t let you.”

You knew that neither one of you truly had control over life or death but you would fight until the end no matter what that end was. It was cruel to have someone like Liu Kang come into your life only for this to happen. It was cruel to be reunited with your childhood best friend only to slowly decay and potentially lose him again. You didn’t want to hurt them more than you already had. You had never wanted to hurt anyone. Even in your worst moments, when you’d been angry at the world, angry at the people of your hometown for treating you so terribly, you had never wished pain or unhappiness upon any of them.

But hurt was unavoidable. You had already hurt them.

“At least you didn’t have to fight my arcana while I was out of it this time.” You gestured down the hall and Liu Kang led them onward but didn’t let go of one of your hands. He just casually held it as you walked like that was no big deal.

“It is a pleasure to fight your arcana, Y/N. Even if you are exhausting in those moments.”

“You’re very sweet but I know that it’s draining for you. Maybe I was just too exhausted from everything that happened in the fight pit. Did Raiden tell you anything about the man I saw? How could I create someone and mimic their power like that without having ever seen them? I can barely create you two and control you properly and I know you very well.”

“He suspects that whoever has cursed you did it. Not you. That was all he told us.”

“I thought that thing was going to kill me. What a way to go. Killed by my own arcana. Are there any records of that? Would I be a first?”

“Not the first. There have been a few unfortunate incidents… one involving a laser and well, you wouldn’t be the first.” Liu Kang managed to joke with you and that was a relief. He led you down a flight of steps and the hall at the bottom was dark. Liu bathed his palm in fire and led you down the hallway and around the corner. The room he led you into was smaller than the one you’d had before but it was more secure. No windows and the doors were heavy. There was an old table with a singular candle atop it. Liu lit the candle before extinguishing the flame in his palm. “Welcome to your new home. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I can’t think of another option, Liu.”

“But what if you get trapped… Kung Lao told me about that morning and…”

“No one else will get hurt because of me.” You spoke firmly. There was no arguing with you on this. “When I’m not this volatile then I will happily move back to the other room. But until then, Liu, this is the only solution that I can come up with.”

“I don’t like this, Y/N.”

“I know you don’t. I don’t either. But it’s the right thing to do.”

He sighed heavily. The door opened behind you and Kung Lao came in holding your entire desk. Then he slammed it down inside the room. “It’s too dark in that hallway. We have to put in some lights. I nearly died getting down here.”

“There’s got to be an easier way to move my things than you blindly carrying them through dimly lit hallways like a crazy person.”

“Name one.”

“I’ll go get a dolly.” Liu Kang patted you on the shoulder and then shook his head in dismay at Kung Lao before they continued about the task of moving your things to your new space. You sat on the edge of the desk and looked at the small, dark room. This was temporary. You would leave this space successful. You had to.

[la-luna-es-hermosa]

EXO Reaction to a Filipino Idol

Note: Bruh I think I have overdone this reaction. This reaction is made from a request by an anon! I am so excited to finally receive an ask! But yes I did make this reaction extra special because of my hiatus. Sorry for not being active anymore because I have been addicted to osu and other rhythm games (Arcaea and Superstar SM). I have also been in a new fandom (in my profile picture) I know I gotta stay loyal for my boy Jongin but I just can’t. For this blog, I will still accept requests, still active, but I will be more active in @kuwurapikaaa​ ! If you want hunter x hunter, the arcana, jjba and A3! content, check that blog up too! I am finishing drafts there as well - MeiQI

Junmyeon

You guys met at one of the designer parties he attends to. Despite being in the same industry, you guys haven’t really faced each other. He was probably too busy tending to his members.

In that moment, he finally had enough courage or time to actually talk to you. He really liked how you guys shared many struggles, from trainee days and even today. “I really understood your struggles back then. Adjusting to a new country and lifestyle is really hard.” He said to you as he patted your shoulders.

Junmyeon would give out flowers every promotion you had. Even if your group didn’t win, you always get a bouquet from him. Your members started assuming that he has a liking on you.

Your family started to notice his actions as well. “Are you sure that Junmyeon isn’t courting you?” Your concerned father asked. He loves his unica hija (lit. unique daughter, in context: only daughter) too much to just let her go with a mere guy. He has to know more about Junmyeon before letting his child date him.

It seemed like everyone around you are just beating around the bush because of his actions around you. But all that was worth it as he went to your parents and asked them if he can court you. “Mr. and Mrs. (Surname), I like your daughter (Name). Can I court her?” He asked them. - The parents did not even question it since Suho is such a sweetheart

Junmyeon also started exploring more about the Philippines, knowing that his beautiful girlfriend is from the country. He would firstly look up at pieces of art made by Filipino artists (with the likes of Fernando Amorsolo and Juan Luna), it would be a bonus if you’re interested in art as well. Most of your conversations would end up being about you guy’s cultures and how the painters showed the message they want to put out there.

He would also end up being really curious about the language as well. I can see him trying to learning the language just for you. “Sobrang mahal kita, ikaw ang aking mundo” He says with a cute bashful smile. It still sounded different because of his Korean accent. You found it quite endearing that he will go through all this lengths to impress you and show how much he loves you.

Minseok

For Xiumin... hmm... it’s hard because I can’t really picture Xiumin with a Filipino girl or a foreigner in general. It’s not that he doesn’t like Foreigners, but I am very unsure about it. Like Kyungsoo, he is really into girls that are more traditional.

Like everyone else, Minseok would be really interested in your culture. The delicious food, the language you spoke. He would always listen to the way your voice shifted when you speak to him and to your parents. “Ma okay lang ako... nag-iingat naman po kami ni Minseok.” You spoke to your worried mother over the phone.

Although I can see him trying to actually learn Tagalog just for you. He would learn it in secret until he was fluent enough to tell you that “(Y/N) ikaw lamang ang aking mamahalin” and write you a whole essay on why he loves you just in Tagalog.

In music shows, like Junmyeon, he will send you lots of flowers because that is exactly where you guys met at. Every time your group had a comeback that was around the same time as his, he will always look at you and got the courage to sneak in his phone number.

Minseok texts you a lot, telling you if you got his flowers or if your parents approved of him. - Of course your parents approved of him, even saying that you grew up too fast as you now have a boyfriend. 

You guys haven’t had the time to be together due to his military enlistement, but as soon as he can hold his phone again, you were the one of the first people he messaged. “Sorry I haven’t talked to you” He said.

But out of all the EXO members, he gave you the sweetest confession at a park at night. “I want to say that I enjoy your company and I am thinking about my future with you.” He said to you as his hands cupped your face.

Yixing

I remember the time he said PhiliPENIS, this man right here lol. Anyway, jokes aside I think Yixing would be really interested in your culture. It is a bonus point that both of you are foreigners and are in the same industry. Like Suho, Yixing met you in one of those luxury parties hosted by fashion labels.

You immediately caught his eyes, the look you were wearing really suited you. The colors were beautiful, just like you. When the cameras aren’t rolling, this is where he would move. He would DM you via instagram and that is where you guys will start to talk. It went from simple “how are you?”, to the more complicated topics. You were his home, the place he would go to if he’s stress.

It would definitely be a bonus if you like doing music. You would be singing many of his demos so that he can really see if he did a great job. His source of inspiration is you as he stays late at night to compose something for him.

Even if you’re an idol, your relationship would still be long distance as he is in China and you’re in Korea, promoting with your group. (With some sneaky flights to China), “I miss you Yixing...” You smiled at him as you looked at the screen, Yixing is working hard in the studio.

“I miss you too... I wish I can hug you.” He said to you, his eyes somber as he looked at the screen of his phone, seated at his studio, working on a new song. Every time you guys kissed, hugged or touched each other, it felt more electrifying as you have never met him often.

Since he had always been a dancer, I can see him trying to learn Cariñosa (I had a dream like this aaaa), he would be really curious at the many dances the Philippines offered.

(Note: I have to cut the reaction for Yixing because I might get political and I don’t wanna get in jail anytime soon lol)

Baekhyun

I feel Baekhyun would be a bit more safer with a Filipino girl (given what happened to his ex-girlfriend). I can see him being with one as he was the one who came up with the Phixo name in the first place.

He would protect you so much to the point that he will not reveal you guys are together. With what happened to Taeyeon and to think that you are a Filipino idol, which means you are certainly the pride of your country. He would rather reveal you at the right time. (When will that be at this rate)

You met him at a music show while promoting his solo stuff. He really enjoyed your group’s performance as well. You became immediately his favorite member for your talent and eye-catching looks. He knew you already since debut and thought you were really pretty, but it took to another level when he saw you personally.

His jaw dropped at your looks, you were unique unlike any other idols. With his social skills, he didn’t hesitate to talk to you backstage and that is where you guys really took off.

I can see you and him are variety idols. - Reminds me of Heechul and Momo. You guys would always come up with the stupidest jokes. Bonus points if you are a gamer as well. You guys would always fight at the latest RPG games out there. “I beat your ass!” You said to him while laughing at his loss in the game.

Baekhyun would also sing songs for you (like Kyungsoo and Chanyeol). He would sing all your favorite songs in Tagalog just for you!!!! I am fangirling in the inside as I imagine Baekhyun singing songs to make you sleep aaaa He would also try to explore your culture as he would try out your favorite food as well. 

“Wow this thing tastes delicious!” Baekhyun remarked as he poured the soup over the rice. A smile formed in your face as he eagerly ate the food. You looked at him, lovingly observing him. You were glad he really enjoyed the food you made.

In later years, when he finally think that you will be the one that he truly wants to be with forever, he will choose to settle in the Philippines as the media and paparazzi there is not as crazy as the ones in Korea.

Chanyeol

For Chanyeol, I think you guys met through MC-ing, You guys were partnered up to MC a music show. Since your cute bickering in the music show aired on TV, your fans started shipping the two of you. It ended up with you guys talking more to each other backstage. Recommending songs and telling your problems to each other were the most topics of you guys’ conversations.

He ends up giving his number as you guys message each other more and more often. He was the first one to fall for you. Falling for the first time your eyes laid on his. You fell for him in no time, enjoying his company.

Because of you, he would listen to Filipino music. Particularly, I can see Chanyeol liking old Filipino bands such as Silent Sanctuary, Eraserheads, Parokya Ni Edgar, and Orange & Lemons. He would always sing their songs to you every time you guys meet. You guys would even have Karaoke nights where you just sing songs. “I heard Filipinos are good singers.” He told you as he handed out the mic.

You laughed as you started singing. - Obviously you would be a good singer as you debuted in an idol group and is a known kontesera (a woman who participated in many singing contests). He was charmed by how captivating your voice was.

You became the topic of many songs by Chanyeol. Your eyes, your loving words, your everything. - He loved every single part of it. Hell he can even dedicate a whole album just for how much he loves you and how you are an important part of his life.

You went to the Philippines to have your vacation. As you were enjoying your family’s company, suddenly you heard a familiar voice. You stood up from your couch and looked down at the window. “(Name)! This one’s for you!” Your eyes widened as you saw that it was Chanyeol.

Chanyeol started strumming his guitar. The view looked amazing, the stars twinkled, he looked ethereal as he looked up to meet your eyes.Your parents peeked with you as their heard his voice. “Uso pa ba ang harana?” He started singing the song with his low voice. He was singing Harana by Parokya Ni Edgar. 

Kyungsoo

People would be rather shocked as Kyungsoo is the type of guy to date a traditional Korean girl. But I can also see him truly appreciating a Filipina girl. He firstly found you quite weird because he

It was you who made the first move. Your group is promoting your comeback at the same time EXO was. You hesitantly sneaked your phone number into his sandwich. You watched him open it, as you thought he was going to throw the paper away, he didn’t. He kept it in his pocket and went along.

With his sweet voice, like Chanyeol, he always sang many Tagalog songs with you. (I remember the time when they sang ‘Hawak Kamay’ in the dream concert). Your parents would’ve approved of him quite fast, being such a good, well mannered man. He is the dream son-in-law for every parent 

Kyungsoo had always been so protective of you because of you being Filipino, you had a lot of supporters since rookie days. Your kababayan would be really dismayed if there was bad news about you. He wouldn’t like you to lose your career. (Even more if you’re supporting your family)

“After boiling the tamarind, what comes next?” Kyungsoo asked you as he was chopping the spareribs in the battered cutting board. He always does this. He makes random food from your childhood. One day it was adobo, the other day it was caldereta, now it’s sinigang na baboy.

You smiled at him as you spoke a reply, “The ribs.” You clung to him as you wrapped your hands underneath his apron. Wrapping him in a tight embrace.

Jongin

In the Filipino side of the fandom, affectionately called “Phixos” by Baekhyun, Jongin has been called a Filipino. It was because of his looks (his charming eyes, his tanned skin) and his frequent visits to Cebu. Some fans even jokingly say that Jongin would settle with a Filipino girl or along those lines.

It wouldn’t be a shock for the Filipino fandom that Jongin chose a Filipino girl. It would be something that they would even celebrate, the fact that Jongin dated a kababayan. (Fellow Filipino)

You guys met in a photoshoot of a local magazine. He was impressed with your modeling skills, despite you being a rookie in it. Of course, you were intimidated with him as he is the Gucci ambassador. Right after the rather sexy photoshoot, you guys gave each other numbers. You guys started DM-ing each other via Instagram.

Jongin would be just as interested in learning Tagalog than English. In your very long conversations, he would always talk to you in Taglish (Tagalog and English) so that you are more comfortable talking to him. Rather than him talking in long paragraphs of Korean text. He finds it amazing that you speak more than two languages.

Your leader would joke about you being awake at ungodly hours listening to Jongin’s honey voice as he tries to sing when you can’t sleep. Or sometimes it would be his heavily accented English or Filipino. You wouldn’t say anything, but everyone already knows. As soon as your magazine gets through publication, everyone would start shipping you guys together. Searching the deepest depths of the internet for ship-able moments for the two of you.

“I’ve been to Cebu two times last year.” He said to you, smiling as he showed some polaroids from his Cebu trip. Your handsome boyfriend was seated on the couch. You were just chilling in your own apartment.

“You’ve been to Cebu two times in one year?! I haven’t even been to that place ever!” Your eyes were wide with shock, you almost dropped the popcorn you were munching on. How can someone travel twice to a foreign country? - You thought to yourself.

Sehun

It was love at first sight for the maknae. As soon as he saw you passing by on a music show, he cannot take his eyes off you, following all of your available SNS. His eyes were glued at you as he sneaked his number on an Inkigayo sandwich. He was also your secret fanboy, cheering and supporting you while you perform. Sehun always congratulates you on every comeback/release, messaging you on Kakaotalk on how are you doing that time or saying that he’s happy for you.

As soon as you received his number, you cannot imagine that out of all people, it was Sehun from EXO who gave you his phone number. It was like a dream come true. After emptying out your schedule, you immediately called Sehun. - From there, you guys started talking and having feelings developed.

He started being more curious about Filipino culture all because of you. He started researching it in his free time. - I can see Sehun date a foreigner, so I think the culture is not really a hurdle for him. 

Surprisingly, you were the one who made the first move. Not Sehun. You confessed to him very confidently. But since the cultural difference, he hasn’t met your parents. As soon as your schedules were empty, you guys went to the Philippines to find your parents and introduce him to them.

Sehun was standing nervously in front of your house’s gate. It was his first time visiting your family. He was shaking to the point that he cannot even move. You looked at him in the eye and asked him, “Is anything wrong?” you asked as you pat his shoulders, calming him down.

“No, nothing.” He said as he shook his head as he held the bouquet tightly in his hands. Then you saw your mother that opened the gate. - They were more than glad that they get to meet your precious Sehun.

“Why didn’t you tell me that your boyfriend is this gwapo?” Your mom asked you as you laughed. Then, you entered the house with huge smiles on your faces.

[nobeliumoxygenoxygenmisc]

asra || a promised dance

For fictober at @fictober-event 

Prompt number: 2 “Just follow me, I know the area.” Fandom: The arcana Rating: General Warnings/Tags: None

You’d wanted a dance at the masquerade, but considering what ended up happening, it had been impossible. Asra doesn’t forget his promises. (<1k words)

--

"Just follow me, I know the area."

You rolled your eyes as Asra led you through the hedges, pulling you along, letting your surroundings blur away. It started off familiar, but grew less and less so, as the both of you headed deeper into the hedge maze. "I would hope so, considering how much longer you've known the 'area' than me, but how much further must we go?"

Asra shot you a grin over his shoulder, giving you a quick squeeze. "Not much. You'll see soon." You resisted another roll of your eyes at his answer; cryptic as always, but then again, when was he not? 

Faust slithered away from him, going through your linked hands and giving you a soft squeeze as she nestled into the crook of your neck.

"Do you know where he's taking us?" You whispered to her, fully aware Asra could hear the both of you. Faust leaned up, pressing her face into your cheek.

"Pretty place!" You nodded, intrigued.

"Faust, don't give away the surprise! You promised!" Asra said, playfully scolding.

"Didn't! Many pretty places!" 

"She's got a point..." You said, laughing. There were lots of pretty places in Vesuvia, anyway. But, deep inside the hedge maze? Something you had missed, probably. You hadn't been able to explore the whole of the Palace itself, nevertheless the grounds, what with the whole situation that was Lucio, the Devil, rituals, memories, parents... the list went on.

But that was over and in the past, you reminded yourself. And this was now. 

Whatever ‘this’ that Asra wanted to show you.

He slowed, bringing you closer. "We're here." You blinked. 

In front of you three was... a dead end. Or was it? You wouldn't put it past Asra for some surprise. You merely cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him--to do what, you didn't know exactly, but something.

Asra smiled, waving a hand that parted that hedges to reveal--

Your jaw dropped.

A clearing, admittedly not very large, but beautiful and gorgeous despite it. A lovely white fountain, not as carefully attended to as the one with the deer but just as pretty to look at, flowing water that spilled into small pathways on the ground; the garden colourfully well-kept and vibrant.

You turned to Asra, eyes still wide with soft awe and wonder. 

"You did say you wanted a dance at the Masquerade and--" He led you further inside, ensuring you managed over the streams and onto a large square patch of uninterrupted grass. "I did promise one but." He gave you a wry grin. "Circumstances did not allow, I'm sure you can remember."

"Oh, certainly," You said, sighing in mock disappointment. But the both of you knew that there was no denying the small smile on your lips. "So I'm guessing... you're going to act on this promise of yours now?" 

He smiled fondly, pulling you in by the waist. "Mm, clever as always."

You snorted. "It doesn't take a genius to understand, Asra."

"You never know."

You felt movement as Faust slithered off your body and onto a large lilypad, swaying excitedly.

"Dance!" 

"Someone's eager," You said, laughing. You heard no reply, but felt Asra move his hands to the small of your back, and in response you wrapped yours around his shoulders. "Though... I suppose..." You hushed, leaning closer. "I can't blame her." 

Asra laughed, the sound soft but eliciting vibrations from his chest, both sensations something you adored. For a few moments the two of you sway, content in the presence of each other, until--

"Faster!" Faust's voice broke in, a pleasant shock that pulled you both out of your moment and into laughter.

"Are we too boring for you Faust?" Asra called as you turned to look back at the serpent. 

"Boring!"

"That's not good now, is it?" You teased.

"Of course not. I might bore the both of you." His eyes gleamed with cheek and mischief. "It would definitely ruin this surprise." 

Without need of thought, the both of you snapped outwards, keeping one hand together and suddenly you were spinning, the movements rendering you breathless but stammering out giggles nonetheless, Asra's own accompanying you. 

Several times you fell back into his chest, getting a glimpse of that fond smile you were generously gifted with everyday before moving back and away, a twirl here and one there.

A few times you felt the edge of the grass creeping beneath your feet, but before you could slip or lean back beyond return, Asra guided you back towards him, fast enough to rip a yelp from you once or twice. You're thankful you both move too fast to notice his amused smirk. Much.

And then you stopped, breathless and flush against each other, silent. Hearts pounding, your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned in, Asra doing the same before his lips were on yours, moving and passionate, and there was nothing else but you and him and--

You both broke away instantly, eyes wide. 

"Wait Faust--"

"Close your--"

"Want kiss too!" 

The precious little noodle flung herself towards you, moving erratically as she tried to squeeze two people at once, hardly long enough to do so satisfactorily. 

Though the thought was enough, and between the three of you, it usually was.

--

first one up for fictober i hope you enjoyed!! also, i don’t dance so if the dancing sounded terrible i’m so sorry 😅

[aria-i-adagio]

Ch 16: Directions to See a Ghost

Fandom: The Arcana

Chapter Rating: Lime, very lime

Wordcount: 5600

Masterpost

Prior Chapter

a/n: @ilyarium co-wrote this chapter!  

Julian’s mood seems to improve as Portia leads us up the hill that I had stumbled my way down twice the other night.  Sunlight, perhaps, or the effect of the alcohol working its way out of his system.  He’s quiet, but as he promised, sure footed, even during a scramble up a particularly steep part of the path.  Portia unlocks the lemonstone gate that leads into the garden.  We follow her around one turn of the hedge maze and she two in front of two statues and grins.  “There are all these passages and portals throughout the palace.  I’ve been, um, mapping them in my free time.  Deep breath, both of you.”  She takes Julian’s hand and mine then steps between the statues, pulling us both with her.  There’s a sudden lurch and a sickening sensation of falling up, then we land in a dark hallway.  Julian loses his balance, pulling both Portia and me to the floor with him.  “Graceful, Ilya.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t, um, expecting that . . . damn, it’s dark in here . . .”

I try to summon a light to my hands.  Like the other night, my magic doesn’t quite seem to work.  The light flickers for a moment, then flares, and extinguishes itself.  “Sorry.  Not much help right now.”

“No matter.  This is Lucio’s old wing right?”  Julian’s long limbs unfolding as he gets to his feet is just barely visible as my eyes adjust to the dim light.  “There were candelabras all along the walls.  Sure there’s still a candle or two in one.”

As he paws along the wall, looking for something to create some light, I get to my feet and dust off my clothes.  Like before the air here doesn’t feel quite right - more that the staleness of an unused room.  It’s heavy around me and moving - slowly, but strongly, like a current in a river.  Hands extended in front of me, I walk down the hall, leaving Portia and Julian to their search for a candle.  My hand finds a door knob and without thinking I pull it open. 

The ground is cold under my feet, like ice through the soles of my shoes, and as slick as ice too. Did I step in? I can't really remember making that decision, but I must have made it. It feels oddly wet, and feel how I slide and start to fall and... something catches me. I think something did, or did I just react fast enough to catch myself for once?

 You. Again. I remember you.

 A little wisp of wind against my ear makes me shiver, the sudden little current like an unexpected breath.

"Hello?"  No response.  I'm not certain if I should even have expected one.  Or if I even wanted one.  There's a rectangle of light on the opposite wall, just barely pushing through heavy drapes.  I pick my way across to it, stepping with care on a floor that has no business being so slick.  The room smells of ash.  Ash and dogs and years of neglect.  A cloud of dust rises like smoke when I push aside the curtain.

The light that falls through a dirty window feels muted, faded like an old memory. This is... a bathroom? Polished marble and a giant bathtub with golden claws, somehow reminding me of the one in my own rooms, just far, far more... absurdly opulent? Is that a thing? The palace seemed a lot at first, but I've somehow grown used to it, but this....  A swan is engraved into the window, proud wings spread in flight, leaving a trail of little crystals set in the glass as he leaves the water. It must be a spectacle when the sun shines through it.

Something touches my back as I trail my finger through the dust on the edge of the tub.  I turn, expecting Julian or Portia, but there's no one behind me, at least not that I can see.  The sensation of fingers - icy cold -  close around my wrist.  "Who's there?"  My voice shakes softly.  Foolish question, really, how many ghosts could one expect from a single wing of the palace?  I glance to my right, at a wall of mirrors.  There's a faint form towering beside me, though it could be a trick of the light or the cobwebs that coat the surface.  I see the shape move, shimmering, just a slight tilt at the top - a nod to acknowledge my presence?  "Lucio?"

 Was that so hard? Foolish girl.  Of course it is I, always have been, always will be, and... ah, so warm, I have forgotten how warm you were. Can feel it down to my bones. Well, metaphorical bones, or metaphysical ones, whatever.  Pretty enough. You'll do for now.

 I step closer to the mirror, lifting my free hand, fingers skimming slowly over the surface.  My mind is one step behind my body and the cold is seeping slowly, so slowly into both.  "Can you speak?"  This might be a bad idea.  Or it could be a good one.  If he knows what happened, how he died, who killed him.�� Do you even remember your life, once you're dead?

I see in the mirror how he leans down to me, about to whisper in my ear.  Maybe?  A cool gust of wind again, washing over my skin.  Is he touching me?

 Aah.  Your fragrance.  Human.  Not ash and not fire and not nothing, most of all not nothing, and I inhale again, deeply, trying to inhale some of your very life back into me.  Never thought I'd miss that so much.  A question.  What was it again? Oh, right.  Can I speak?  No, I say and giggle, because I can't, not here, not now, and yet your ears seem to prick like Melchior's when he hears something interesting. How I miss his soft fur...

 He's here.  Yet not here.  I take a deep, slow breath and close my eyes, thumbing through the pages of the books in my shop in my head.  At least one related to the question of spirits and communication between the living and the dead.  The twisting pattern of a sigil that strengthens the link between the spirit and our world appears behind my eyes.  At the shop, I'd use chalk or a sand tray, but technically anything will do, even the dust overlaying the surface of a mirror or a pattern held carefully in the mind.  I lift the hand that still feels like it's being held by cold fingers and carefully trace the design onto the mirror, hoping that my recall is clear enough.

 I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to remember how it felt. Touching someone out of pride, rare as it was, one of my mercenaries when he did a particularly good job, because I sense what she's doing, even if I don't know the details. Who needs details anyway? Bureaucrats and tailors, and that's it. She's drawing me towards her, or into the mirror, or in her head, and she feels almost solid under my palms, and I press down a little more. 

 The feeling of someone standing over me only grows stronger as I finish the sigil.  The cold touch shifts from my wrist to my shoulder, and I swear I can feel a breath on the top of my head like a lover’s faint sigh.  I shiver, both from the chill in the air and the thought of a ghost hovering so uncomfortably close.  Once I've drawn in the least few lines, I lean close to the diagram and breath on it, to activate spell.  Breath and blood - the two symbols of life, and I don't want to mess with blood magic.  Not unless I must.  Just for a moment, the diagram glows - a faint pulse of blue green light.  I wait, hands at my sides, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt as I tried to keep them from shaking.

 Are you scared? I whisper and chuckle. I'm scared too, or giddy, or maybe both. It's nice to see someone with actual competency trying for once, not the courtiers, not that one time - just a single time, that Val showed up, around deep in his cups and another bottle at hand.  I feel her magic wash over me like a wave, and then, it's almost there. I'm almost there, almost, can see myself forming in the mirror, my glorious human self, and then it's gone again.  Lost in the sea. That's how the afterlife feels for me. Sometimes almost at the safe shores, but then again so far out between the waves that I can feel myself drowning, becoming another one of the sad shapes that haunt the palace. But not me. Not Lucio.

 The presence was stronger, but only for a moment.  Breath alone isn't going to be enough.  I gnaw at my bottom lip, then with a sigh dig a penknife out of my bag.  The chance that he knows - that he could clear Julian of his death - it's too important to not pressure.  I add six lines to the diagram, a hexagon - regular as I can make without a compass - framing the sigil.  Any spellwork I do within the frame will last only as long as the frame itself, no matter how powerful.  The limiting frame might keep Asra from killing me, once he finds out about this little adventure.  I prick my finger and allow a bead of blood to form before touching it to the center of the diagram.

 The sensation is a bit like cumming, and I shudder in delight.  Maybe I just moaned, not quite sure.  A heartbeat full of life pumping through me from that tiny drop, and my nails dig into her clothes. Damn magicians, always holding back their power.  Greedy things.  More. I need more... but I smile.  My old charm is still there, somewhere.

 I wince.  The feeling of a hands grasping at my side is stronger.  Nearly painful.  I'd be proud of myself for recalling the sigil well enough for it to be effective, if there wasn't a very insistent voice in the back of my head declaring that I was certainly going to regret this mistake.  

"Speak if you can, Lucio."

Silence.  But the phantom hand tightens on my waist.  

 You'd be the first to want that. I chuckle. Does she hear me as I whisper in her ear? Briefly muse to lick along the shell, make her shudder as she made me.

 Rude, I think, even as I feel my head tipping just slightly to the side.  And not enough, yet, it seems.  Damn.  The trouble with this spell - with most spells - is the sequential increase in power that is geometric, not arithmetic in nature.  The next step adds four drops of blood to the cardinal points, not simply a second drop.  But I want - I need - answers.  Fuck it.  I squeeze the pad of that finger and touch it to the mirror right to left, lower to upper.  Whispering to myself, because it seems odd to work in silence when I know someone else is here, I dot more blood onto the diagram.  Sixteen drops more, makes for twenty one total, the product of three and seven.  Three for stability and creation, seven for completion and expectation.

The sigh of the dead man is clearly audible this time, or maybe it's a moan. I'm not quite sure.

"What gives me the pleasure of your presence?" The ghost’s voice grows stronger as he speaks. "Did you miss me so much?" 

I can feel sharp nails trailing along my jaw and a thumb being over my bottom lip.  Miss him?  Why would I, specifically, miss him?  Or does he simply assume that everyone in the city, process and paupers alike, long for his presence?  

"Nadia wants, needs to know . . .”  My voice shakes as I try to figure out a way to ask the question that will get me an answer.  “How did you die, Lucio?"

"Dead?"  A melancholic laugh. He's bitterly amused by the question it seems.  "I'm not dead, my dove.  I'm like you, not quite alive." 

 She's not.  I knew the first moment I touched her.  Two sides of the same coin, her side wiped clean, mine engraved too deeply.  I want to take her, suddenly, urgently, to become one, but know that won't do the trick.  I was told by trustworthy sources.

 "Like me?”  What does he mean by not quite alive?  Fingers trail through my hair.  I can make out more of his image now.  Blonde, average height, trim physique, face still lost in dust and shadow.  "How are you like me?"

"You do not know? Oh, of course not." 

 She's their pawn.  A perfect little doll, ignorant of how they toy with her.  Liars and cowards, all of them, and I feel the heat of my hate returning, and it feels so good.

 "There's quite a lot I don't know.”  For a second, my temper flares and I have to shove back thoughts of Asra and everything he's hidden from me - even if it's true that he withholds information to keep me safe.

"They are horrible, aren't they? Always telling that you don't need to concern yourself with this and that...."

  Heavens, I hate being sober.  Happier to be a drunken fool.  No wonder Val stays that way.  The realization they did that - that they lied, manipulated, despised me, only came after my little accident.  For a moment, her face has fallen. She knows what I mean.  Could I bring her around to my side?  Would she help me?  Not it she understood what would happen, how we're alike, but then she needn't understand, only obey.

 "Who are they?"  I can't decide whether he's being condescending or if he'd commenting on his own experience.  "For you, that is?"

"Take a wild guess, my dove. Isn't it always those that claim to love you?" 

 Liars, selfish liars, all of them!

 The people who claim to love us, eh?  The blood on the diagram drips slowly, pooling into oval drops.  The dream, the dream where Asra cut Julian's hand and allowed the blood to fall.  The one that was more than a dream, if what Julian said about Asra involving himself with blood magic was true.  I pull away from the cold hand on my shoulder and sit down on the edge of the tub.  The people who claim to love us and blood.  There's a connection here, one I can't quite put into language.  "What do you know about Asra?"

Any number of things would have met my expectations for what would happen next, but not hysterical laughter.  It starts with a low giggle and rises and rises until the whole room around me seems to be shaking with it.

 Of course that little bastard is behind this!  Of-fucking-course!  Not enough that he fucks my wife, he also sends -her- of all people to find out... find out... No.  Nonono. Not this time.  Fuck this.

 Suddenly, there is silence. I see one of the red pearls loose its shape, run down the shining surface like a tear, and then, I scream.  Scream before I realize that it was the mirror cracking into pieces, shattering the image of me and the room and the not-quite-there man, destroying the connection we had.

"Shit!  Shit, shit, shit!"  The mirror crumbles leaving between a raw plaster wall.  There's a shriek from the hallway - Portia, or maybe Julian.  They run in from the hallway, door slamming behind them.  

“Dema!  What is it are you alright?”  Julian fumbles with a half burned candle, that they appear to have finally managed to light.  “What happened?”

Portia runs a hand through her hair.  "My god, what a mess!  You didn't get hurt did you?"

"I'm okay.  Lucio, um, he's definitely here."

"You spoke to him?  What did he say? Does he know who killed him?”

"I - we didn't get that far.”

"Is he still here?"  Portia spins about on her heels.  "Hey, Count, I need to know who killed you.”

"I don't think it'll be that easy."  My spell is gone shattered along with the mirror.  Casting another one, well, it was possible, but I'm not at all sure that it would be wise.  No, definitely not.  The first hadn't been wise.

A crash from the next room interrupts Portia's next question.  Perhaps I won't need another spell, not if Lucio’s ghost is capable of property destruction.

Julian holds his candle to the door like some sort of ward.  It quivers against the darkness of the hall beyond.  "What was that?”

"Maybe the dogs."  Portia doesn't sound particularly convinced by her own statement.  

"Came from his bedroom."

 No, no, Mercedes, don't look at me like this and wag your tail just because daddy made a fun mess.  That bust was expensive and I looked so regal in it, and now it's gone just because of that damned witch.  He and his kind make me so angry, still do. What did I expect?  Anything Noddy does being actually useful and not another selfish act? Ha!

 Julian pushes the door to the bedchamber over and enters first, candle held out before him.  There's a pile of broken ceramic in the floor, flanked by Lucio's hounds.  They looked surprised for a moment, then rush Julian with happy barks, tails wagging as they prance around him, demanding attention.

"Old friends?"

"Umm, yeah."  Julian hands the candle to Portia before the dogs can knock it from his hands and kneels in the floor.  He rubs Melchior's ears as the hound pushes his nose against Julian’s face.  Mercedes huffs and sprawls in the floor, rolling over and exposing her belly for rubs.

 Jules. You too. Of course. We're getting the band back together, and the witch is the new lead singer. You're looking like shit, old friend, and I've seen you looking like shit before.

 A massive portrait of the Count in a gilded frame dominates the far wall of the bedroom.  Like the painting in the dining room, red is the dominant color.  Lucio is depicted in profile, standing with his heel on a horse’s skull, triumphant over the death’s head that haunted the right corner of the dining room portrait.  Death’s smiles is as pronounced as it is for any skull, but the cobwebs, dust, and ash surrounding it add an additional layer to the grin.

The door crashes shut.  Beside me, Julian jumps.  His fingers twist into mine, then just as quickly twist away.  “Helluva draft.”

Air pushes past my face, warmth incongruent with the rest of the room.  I don’t think that’s a draft.

At my feet lie the crumbled remains of a statue, gold and translucent oranges and browns, some precious stone.  Agate maybe?  I see the remains of an armored arm broken from the body that's lying over there, half of a sword still in its clutches.  It's gilded, and I know quite well whom it belongs to.  How can somebody have so many depictions of himself in his own bedroom?  I'm happy to avoid my face after waking up for the longest time, while the count seems to be somebody who'd consider a mirror over his mattress an excellent idea.

If Lucio has enough energy remaining from my spell to shatter a bust, perhaps he has enough left to interact with us.  "Lucio?"  There’s another push of air between me and Julian, and then his chin tilts down, as it touched by a hand.

“Now this is a face I didn’t expect to see again.”  The ghost’s voice is more distant than before, but still very present.

“Lucio?”  Julian’s whisper is barely audible.

A laugh from the ghost and a flash of white in the corner of my eye.  “Jules, you somehow escaped the dungeon.  And survived.  Fascinating.”  Air brushes past my face again, followed by the stinging sensation of claws brushing along my cheek.  "And your pretty little friend you brought to the Masquerade too."  Cold claws wrap around my hand, jerking me away from Julian.  "I almost didn't recognize her the other night."  The pale form spins me around.

 That's a lie. I do recognize her, the way she feels, something of Jules, but that she's another one of Asra's pawns... I should have known. Should have known from the start. Why are they looking like that? Don't they know? Don't they remember? I may be missing one thing or the other, that's a mix of booze and drugs and death, but they...

 "Montag . . .  Lucio, what happened to you?”  Julian speaks the first name - the one I don't recognize - softly, almost affectionately, and I’m reminded of Valerius’s comment that he and Julian knew the Count better than anyone else in the court.

 I let her go, suddenly losing all interest in her.  Jules sounds like he used to, back in the day, the good, old, bloody days, and I decide to be at his side to bop his silly old nose.  Always liked that nose.  Liked him.  Yes, I think I did?  Then something happened.  Did the magician fuck him, like he did with anybody back then?  Would you do that to me, Jules?  Could you?  Suddenly, I feel a bit like weeping, and don't like it at all.

My fingers are running through those red curls, and I grab one tweaking it sharply.  "Well, what's your diagnosis, doctor?"  I spit.  No need for them to think me sentimental.

 "I . . . I don't really know.  There was a fire.  Here, I thought I might have . . ."  Julian's voice trails off and he lifts his hand, as if he's trying to curl his fingers around Lucio's.  

Portia breaks in, hands on her hips and single minded.  "Who killed you, Lucio?"

"And who might you be, little girl?"  The ghost sounds lost in thought, hand still dancing over Julian's skin.  I feel a sudden wave of aggression rolling through the room. He doesn't like being spoken to like this.

Portia's own glare, as formidable as a thunderclap, knocks into the aggression rolling from Lucio's ghost.  "Ilya's my brother, and I'm not about to let him die for something he didn't do."

"Are you still trying to die dramatically, Jules?  I told you to stop that nonsense more than once, didn't I, my silly puppy?"  The claws follow the line of the high cheekbone.

 I choose to ignore the little brat for now, because there are tears forming in Jules' eyes, nostalgia, maybe love even, and they give me more than the witch ever could. He's the last one with a kind thought left for me, and a part of me cherishes that more than I expected.

The Count's obvious affection for Julian surprises me, but perhaps it's a way to persuade him to help us.  "Please, Lucio, the courtiers have Nadia convinced that Julian murdered you.  What really happened?”  The ghost returns his attention to me, red eyes flashing with anger.

"So Noddy is a beautiful and dumb as ever.  Ha!  Some things never change.  Noddy and Asra and their ilk . . ."  That obviously means means me, and it sounds amazingly offensive for such a little word.

Portia snaps again, fearless in her anger at the comment.  "Don't speak of Milady that way."

Julian sighs, but speaks kindly, as if he's had to calm the Count's temper many times before.  "Lucio, you know her better than that."

"And now she's looking for you to put up a statue of Vesuvia's hero?" 

I know what she thinks of me. Of course I do. I used to love the challenge I thought her to be, but now I know better. A beautiful waste of space.

"You don't know what happened to you, do you?"  I know that the question is going to piss him off even more, but pissed off people often reveal a lot.  "At least Nadia is interested in finding out the truth."

The witch is right. I do not know, and I wonder if I care.  When things come together, not a single one of them will remain anyway, and still...

"I have seen Jules try to kill as it was about saving his own bony ass. He didn't manage, even then."

"So what the hell happened?”  The limited amount of patience that Portia began with has clearly run its course, and if I haven’t managed to piss Lucio’s ghost off she certainly will.  "Why are you even still here?  You're dead."

The whole room seems to inhale and hold its breath, and I see Julian duck defensively. "Please, don't..." He whimpers, the sounds echoed by one of the dogs, obviously knowing and fearing what might come now, and I feel it too, feel death in the air and feel my fingers weave energy to fend off whatever might be coming and . . .

"Jules? Would you kindly take your lovely sister for a walk before I rip her fucking head off?”  The dead count's voice cuts like a knife, and suddenly I can imagine him wreaking havoc on the battlefield so very easily.

I take a step, placing myself between Portia and the Count's ghost.  Why the hell did I use blood to summon him?  And what did I do wrong with the framing that he still has residual power from it?  Better question: how do I undo the it now?  But it’s my blood he’s drawing energy from, that should give me some control over him.

"That's enough, Lucio."

Behind me, Julian is frantically pulling at Portia's hand, whatever spell Lucio had him under broken by the threat.  My fingers twitch through the movements of a ward to banish evil spirits, holding it in the air.  But I can't resist one last attempt to get something from him.  "What happened?  What did Asra and my 'ilk' have to do with it?”

"Sit down, witch, will you?" A nod towards the bed.  Now that his attention is on me, I have an idea what happened with Julian.  The world around us feels like it's under water, Julian's scramble to get Portia out before she tries to choke a dead goat somehow far away and not of any significance.  He is.  Lucio is.

Is this what people mean when they speak of charisma?  Or some perversion of the idea?  One foot starts to move in the direction of the bed, and I pull it back, trying to ignore the part of me that so very much wants to follow his command.

There's a sudden movement, a blur of white and red, and a cold arm wraps around my waist and tosses me onto the bed.  Greasy gray ash stirs around, clouding the air.  I cough, then choke as it dawns on me that this is all that remains of Lucio's body.

"Always resisting.  Just like him!  Just like Asra!  You want to know what happened?  Fine."  The pitch if the voice rises and a cold draft swirls around the room.  "It was supposed to be mine!  But Asra stole it.  Thief!  A new body for that dead lover he was always weeping about.”  When he speaks the last line, there’s sharp stab behind my eyes, like one of those claws pressed through my head.  All the air in the room seems to rise to the ceiling, lifting the drapes around the bed.  The draft becomes hotter as it swirls, painfully hot.  "Dirty, conniving little thief!"  The air settles and the voice lowers.  "So now, I'm . . . I'm this . . . But not for much longer."

The very thought of him makes my blood boil even worse than the impertinent little Devorak.  The witch remembers, almost does, I can feel her rising panic, washing away some of the things Asra did to her to wipe her clean for him.  His own little virgin sacrifice, tabula rasa because she could not stand him anymore, because nobody could, and I lie her down gently on my sorry remains.  It surely would have been a nice body. Drape myself at her side, looking down through glowing eyes.  Well, that maybe would work better if I was in better shape.  She's scared, and angry.  I like that in a lover.

"You know that you are like me, don't you?  Surrounded by liars and traitors, only thinking about their own desires.  Aah, yes, of course you know, and you also know your owner only means well.  Such a waste of talent, being nothing but an assistant to a thieving scalawag that took even your truth away."

His voice is low now, sensuous.

Truth?  My truth?  What is the truth?  A freezing finger traces along my jaw, and despite the cold - almost cold enough to burn, I want to tilt my face into his hand.  Let the chill of his fingers push back the pain in my skull.  Just give in and obey whatever command I'm given.  I also want to lash out at him!  Owner?  Oh hell no!  The second part of me wins and I roll away from him, catching another lungful of ash, escape interrupted by a second coughing fit.

A disappointed little sound, and then he chuckles, and it sounds more human than anything else that came from him.  "What is it, dove?"

A hand, both welcome and unwelcome, settles on my hip.  It would be easy enough to let him turn me back over, do whatever it is he wants . . .  No, no, no.  I don't want . . .

Portia's voice breaks the spell.  "Leave her the fuck alone!”

And suddenly, I can scramble backwards, our if the bed, nearly falling into floor before hands - warm, human - catch me and pull me tight against a chest that's rising and falling with breath.  Julian.

"Dema, are you alright?”

A laugh fills the room.  "You know I wouldn't hurt her, Jules, not unless she wanted me to.  And oh -"  I can see Lucio stand before Julian spins me around and tightens his arms around me, holding me close against him.  Another cold breath ghosts over my neck, and then a not quite solid, but ever so definitely present, weight presses against my back, as if the ghost leaned over me to press a kiss to Julian's cheek.  “I’d do that so well.”

I hold my hand over my mouth to stifle my laugh as they leave. This time, it's not an impressive, manly one, but the mad giggle the huff the ladies are in and the blush that threatens to burn Jules' cheeks deserve. I let them leave for now, even if it dreads me to be so awfully alone again. Melchior gives me one long longing look, and I allow him to go and play with them. Real pets are better than anything I can offer.

Why does Noddy want to know what happened all of a sudden? And why wasn't I informed about that new idiocy the courtiers are trying? If I didn't need them, I . . . .

Julian seems frozen in place.  I pull away from him and bolt for the door.  Lucio’s amused laugh follows me as I stumble out of his room and fall hard on my knees.  The hallway shifts in and out of focus along with the throbbing in my temples, stabbing through my skull each time I cough.  The ash still coats my mouth and throat, choking and disgusting.  A wave of nausea hits me and I curl over myself dry heaving in the floor.  A cold nose presses against the back of my next and one of the dogs whines, briefly pushing against me then pulling away.

Gentle hands close around my shoulder.  "It's okay.  He's gone."  Portia kneels beside me, sitting me up, a supportive arm around my shoulders.  "Ilya, do you have something, anything to drink?”

A rustling of fabric and then he closes by fingers around a metal flask.  The alcohol burn is a welcome distraction from the pain in my head as I swish the liquid around my mouth.  I spit it back out on the floor, more concerned with getting as much of the body remains of Lucio out of my mouth than with dignity.  Another sip.  This one I swallow and try to pay more attention to the cheap liquor burning it's way to my gut than to the pounding in my head.

"Dema?"  Julian's voice.  Cool fingers on my forehead.

"I'm -”  I want to say fine.  But I'm not.  Colors explode behind my eyes when I close them, but even the dim light of the hall is too much, too bright, too painful to keep them open.  The liquor washed the grit from my mouth and throat, but it's done nothing for the nausea.  "Head's killing me."

"Migraine like?”

Nodding is painful.  I feel like my skull is about to disintegrate, to crumble from the inside out.  My skin crawls over my arms, and where Lucio's ghost grabbed my shoulders, I can still feel his claws scorching my skin.  Despite the lingering heat, I'm shivering, the shakes starting in my chest and radiating out.

"Let's get you to your room."  Portia stands, pulling me along with her.  Even with her arm around me, I stumble, balance lost to the migraine.  The world turns around me, and I don't have enough concentration to both not throw up and to stay on my feet.  Strong arms catch me and lift me off my feet.   

"I've got you, darling."  He cradled me against him, one arm under my thighs, other pressing me to his chest.  I tuck my head against his neck, trying to block out as much light as I can from my eyes.

a/n: Directions to See a Ghost is the title of a nice, trippy album by The Black Angels.  Highly recommended.

Next chapter: SFW version and 18+ version

[justine-the-guillotine]

Hey there! I saw your post (about Mystic Code) on LucyDream's tumblr. Love how you're in your 30's but still playing otome games! I'm the same, but I'm in this world just recently. Can you make a list with your favorite visual novels and otome games? I love those ones with a more mature MC. I mean your can be cute/fun and still be sassy/adult hehe I miss it sometimes...

Okay Anon first of all I’m trash because I told you I would have this out the day you asked it and I totally didn’t so I’m sorry I don’t even know if you’re going to see this. 😩 But you need to know that THIS IS MY MOST FAVORITE QUESTION I HAVE EVER BEEN ASKED AND I LOVE YOU A LOT. 

Anyway, I have a lot to say about this and here’s what I’m gonna say first - there’s a lot of layers to this question so let me just... write a novel. 

Important Note #1: I don’t know that you necessarily want to consider me some kind of expert on otoge with adult MCs. My favorite VN of all time is not an otome game and it is also not with a “mature MC”... you play as a 16-year old boy in Fate/Stay Night. But it’s such a good VN, if you can find it I totally recommend it. I will rave about it for DAYS so if you also want an essay about that please let me know. 

Important Note #2: Some little, technical things... - there is a difference between “mature MC” and “older MC” so I’m gonna kinda do a mix of both... but also going to include “older suitors” or “suitors with no canon age” in this criteria as well.  - I prefer PC games to mobile games but play mobile more often due to convenience... -I own a lot of games that I’m super interested in and have actually never gotten around to playing because I have both a time management problem and a shopping problem. So there are probably some even better choices than what I’m about to list from personal experience and maybe I’ll just come back and update this in a few months.  Moving on...  Here are my current top favorite VNs (otoge or not):  1. Fate/Stay Night (PC) 2. When the Night Comes (PC)   3. The Arcana (Mobile) 4. Amnesia (PC and Mobile) 5. Mystic Code (Mobile) My favorite mobile VNs:  I’m gonna tell you right now this list is gonna change on July 1st when Ikemen Vampire comes out... watch that immediately jump to the #2 spot but as of right now I haven’t played it so I can’t do that.  1. The Arcana 2. Ikemen Revolution 3. Mystic Code 4. Mystic Messenger (this is iffy to call this a VN in my opinion but VNDB lists it so I’m going go with it) 5.  Mysterious Forum and 7 Rumors  My favorite PC VNs (otoge or not): This list is a big oof to be honest because there are so many games I am really interested in but haven’t yet played. For example, I have 20+ unplayed games in my Steam library right now.  1. Fate/Stay Night 2. When the Night Comes 3. Amnesia: Memories  4. Higurashi no Naku Koro ni 5. Cinderella Phenomenon  Now those are my favorites, but here instead are my actual recommendations for you personally Anon:  Recommendations for VNs with a More Mature MC:  1. When the Night Comes (PC, Free to Play) I absolutely adore this VN. It is the best otoge/dating sim I have ever played (thus far). But that’s because it caters to a lot of my interests - it’s definitely not going to hit the mark for everyone! The MC has no canon age or gender. You can date a human, witches, a vampire, a Lycan, and a demon. There are even two route options for poly romance. THE WRITING IS PHENOMENAL. I mean the story is great, yes, but THE FUCKING LANGUAGE is totally everything I love. It is very snarky, witty, and British. Swearing in places one would swear in real life. Sarcastic, “roll my eyes at myself” jokes that one would make in real life. Things are dark but with a sliver of hope. MC is a fucking badass and very much a mature adult. It’s currently being updated monthly (chapter 8 comes out tomorrow - 6/29) so we only have two more months left and then we’re done :( 2. The Arcana (Mobile, Free to Play, with Premium Options)  Please be cautious when interacting with this fandom, especially right now. But besides that warning, The Arcana is amazing. It is also currently still updating. But the MC again has no canon age nor gender. And as a plus, as far as I am aware, the suitors do not have canon ages as well. I wish all games would have no canon suitor ages but I digress. The story sorta starts as a murder mystery but evolves into something much more. It is magical. It incorporates tarot so well. The art is absolutely gorgeous. The MC is not at all helpless and definitely holds their own. 

3. Cinderella Phenomenon (PC, Free to Play)   Okay so MC in this one is NOT an adult. She’s 17, I believe. But she’s a bitch and I love her. I genuinely love the plot of this VN. The art is very pretty - very art nouveau. If you like twists on fairy tails, some snark, and a story of... uh, learning how to be less of a bitch ... this one is a great play! 

4. Mystic Code (Mobile, Free to Play, with Premium Options) I’m not gonna elaborate on this here since Anon already knows about it but I want to remind people reading this that I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS VN... I believe it is the best game to come out on mobile thus far this year.  5. Love Tangle in the Niflheim+ (Mobile, Free to Play with Premium Options, Abandoned)  So... normally I would never recommend a Shall We Date game as a top choice, however, this game is SWD’s only exception. It, of course, has the god awful mechanics that all SWD games have, which could make it a bit annoying to play. This game has also unfortunately been abandoned by SWD so there are NO updates to it. Luckily, all the routes (save for one, I’m pretty sure they were planning to release Sunny’s route prior to abandoning) are out and in full. MC has no canon age and it doesn’t matter because she’s fucking dead. Your suitors are also dead. This is the best premise of a fucking story I have ever seen. As with most SWD games, the writing is a hit or a miss depending on the route, but the MC is mature and strong-willed - never helpless. (One thing I will give SWD is they tend to write their MCs with a bit of *bite* in them.) The writing has some well-timed comedic moments so it definitely keeps you entertained!! I originally started playing just for the novelty of it but I actually genuinely love it. Plus MC has the best hair of all the MCs I have ever seen. 

Additionally, I recommend both Ikemen Sengoku and Ikemen Revolution (Mobile, FTP w/ Premium Options). The MC usually has her shit together although she does have her moments of “oh no baby what is you doing?” And in both games, she’s a young adult, not anywhere near 30 but I still find I have no problem self-inserting.  Other games:  -  Hustle Cat (PC, $) - I have yet to play, but it was recommended to me by two people I trust when it comes to these types of games. It seems to be geared toward adults and as far as I am aware, MC is customizable in not only pronouns but build as well.  - Mr. Love Queen’s Choice (Mobile, mostly FTP) - I do play this and I enjoy it. I wouldn’t really recommend it for a “mature” MC (even though she is a young adult who runs a company), but I mod a MLQC discord server and noticed a lot of our members are in the late 20s-30s. So obviously this game appeals to an “older” market (har har, I just mean “older” than 21). It’s a VN at its core, but it’s got so much extra shit going on that it can be overwhelming unless you like those sort of games. The story part of it is really, really good. And the MC gets equal time with all the suitors (instead of specifically just choosing one route to date).  - Food Fantasy (Mobile, mostly FTP) - this isn’t a VN and I don’t think it’s technically an otoge either- it’s a JRPG-  but oh my goodness the art is fucking gorgeous, and the backstory that sets up the game is WILD, dark, and deep. It blew my mind. It’s cute! So I had to throw it in here in case you were looking for something fun. :)  And finally, VNs on my “To-Play” List:  - Ikemen Vampire (Mobile) - this is coming out in just a few days and I have been waiting for 8 months, so I’m super stoked! - Psychedelica of the Black Butterfly (PC and Vita, $) - The House in Fata Morgana (PC, $) - Clannad (PC, $$)  - Tokyo Debunker (Mobile) - as far as I know there’s no official release date yet, unfortunately! :(  Anyway please message me more if you have any more questions or want to know anything else, I love this shit thank you!!! Depending on the question I’ll try not to write a thesis paper next time :[ 

[metazensae]

Ughhhh…okay. Who steal one of the devs acc?If we don't know, do you have a guess?Why people sending hate to devs?And who are you angry this much?Idk if there's any drama that I missed please tell me all of them!I thought I was in a beautiful,hateless fandom but now,idk anymore I want to leave

Anon, I love you, but it seems you missed a HECK of a lot of drama. 

As in...

This fandom has been cursed since I entered it in August 2017. Drama and discourse have been reoccurring nearly AT LEAST monthly and it’s gotten ugly a number of times. There are angry parts of the fandom, and there are many angry antis, but there are also blissful parts of the fandom as well.

To set some of your questions to rest:

no one stole an account. The account was deactivated, and then the URL was reclaimed by a second person who went around rping as a dev.

I don’t know who did it, and I won’t speculate. All I hope is that they’ve learned impersonation is wrong and have moved on.

There are many reasons people are sending hate to the devs, but it all stems from fans feeling they have way more control/ownership over a product than they do. Most of the time it’s socially motivated, sometimes related to money, and sometimes related to taboos.

Different things are triggering to different people.

If the Arcana game, its fandom, or the rounds of discourse surrounding them are too much for you, you should be free to feel like you can leave at any time. It’s just a game anyway!!! If you want to leave, that is your decision, and no one should judge you for it. 

But I do want to say there’s a lot of good still around if you look for it. I’m trying to be that beacon of good here.

Be at peace for whatever you decide.

[logarithmiclizards-blog]

Welcome to my tumblr!

Helloooo, internet! My name is Sunny B, and it is an absolute DELIGHT to meet you! I exist somewhere out in the world as a Very Serious Art Student, but here you can know me as I truly am: a lover of fandom, a drawer of butts, and an illustrator of many many silly dungeons and dragons things. Welcome!

So, without further ado, let me tell you a li’l about myself so we can get on to the fandom and pictures of butts. I am a 23 year old humanoid from somewhere in the US (and yes, I am quite aware that my home country needs to do better). I prefer a combination of she/her and they/them pronouns, so dealer’s choice on what you’d like to call me at any given moment. On that note, I am extraordinarily queer, and have absolutely no tolerance for the tumblr discourse nonsense. If you post aphobic, biphobic, terfy, etc things, I will block you! Buuuuut hopefully that’s not something we’ll need to worry about because we’re gonna focus on the important things here: fanart, pictures of butts, and being goddam nice to each other. In the interest of being nice to my followers, I’ll try to make sure anything nsfw or triggering gets tagged, but please feel free to let me know if I miss something!

And now, on to the fun part! I. Love. So. Many. Things. Lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts, which have an awesome blend of camp, drama, and queer representation. My favorites so far have been The Penumbra Podcast and Wolf 359, both of which I highly recommend as shining examples the Space is Gay genre. And, y’know, also really f’ing good stories with really f’ing good characters. Also in the category of Space is Gay, I love love love the books The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet and A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers. Coming back to podcasts, I also just started listening to The Adventure Zone, which I like pretty well so far (I’m only like two episodes in as of this post). Kind of the oddball in my media consumption right now is actually a dating sim, The Arcana Game, which has a surprisingly in-depth plotline. Besides those things, I’ll probably be posting a bit of fanart for whatever book or movie or whatever catches my interest at any given time, as well as drawing of my garbage OCs. You’ve been warned.

Anyway, give me a follow if that sounds like things you’d like to see some art of! I also am always happy to geek out with you about stuff I’m interested in, or to hear suggestions for my next obsession. 

[aria-i-adagio]

Masterpost

Fandom: The Arcana

Chapter Rating:  Lemon   (lemon free version, if that’s not your jam.)

Warning: The dream sequence in italics has some body horror and mention of suicidal ideation.

Wordcount: 5800

The streets are quiet - a touch too late for people to be headed to the bars, and a little early for people to be headed back home from them - when we reemerge from the garden.  Julian offers me his arm and I take it, walking close to him, stepping quickly to keep up with is long strides; although, I can tell that he’s slowing his pace for me.

“Why were you at the reservoir anyway?” 

“Hmm?  Oh, yeah, that.  I like being near water.  Helps me think.  Usually I go down by the docks but they’re pretty busy during the day.  It’s a lot quieter there.  The reservoir, I mean, not the docks.”  He squeezes my hand.  “Worked out well enough for me.”

“That’s debatable.”

“What you mean the eel bite?  That’s nothing.  Minor inconvenience.”  He loops his arm around my waist and lifts me over a section of crumbled sidewalk.  I could just as easily have stepped over it.  “Besides what if I hadn’t been there and you fell in anyway.  Doesn’t bear thinking of.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, I’ve got to be good for something after all.”  He stops beside a low stone wall.  “Ah, here we are.  Up and over.”  As with the terrible hazard of the sidewalk, he picks me up and sets me on the walk.  I spin my legs over and drop down into the sideyard of a humble cottage.  Julian vaults himself over the wall landing beside me and steps over the house, pushing open a window.  “Don’t want to risk someone seeing us,” he explains as he boosts me through the window and into a cluttered kitchen.  I don’t have time to look around before he follows, tumbling through the window and knocking a flowerpot to the floor with a crash.

There’s an indignant shout from the room beyond.  “Ilya - tisyache raz ckazala tebe, u menya est’ dver dlya princhiye!”  A short, stout woman holding an oil lamp in her hand and scolding in a language I don’t immediately recognize, pushes aside a curtain and matches on the room.  She grips a spoon like sword in her other hand and shakes it menacingly at Julian.  He cringes dramatically, ducking and throwing his hands over his head. 

“Sorry, Mazelinka.  I’ll um, I’ll get you a new flowerpot.”

“Hmph.  It’s not the pot I’m worried about.”  She looks me over and switches to the trade language.  “And who is this?”  She sets the lantern down on the table and peers at me closely.  Her eyes narrow for a moment focusing on my face, then she shakes her head and takes one slow step back from me.  “Girl, is it actually you?”

“I’m sorry I don’t know you.”  I don’t remember meeting - ever seeing her - before, but does she know me?  It’s certainly possible.  Hypothetically I did know people other than Asra in the twenty five odd years I’m missing. 

She raises one eyebrow at me, then with the smallest shake of her head, turns her gaze on Julian.  “And what is this?  You not only broke in through the window, you’re trailing blood and mud across my floors!”

“Um, yeah, had a bit of a mishap.  Several mishaps, actually.”

She swats him with the wooden spoon.  “Go get yourself washed up, Ilya.  There’s some clothes of yours in the chest by the back door.”

“Mazelinka, this is -”

“Your friend is safe enough with me.  Shoo.”

Julian gives me a helpless look then retreats down a short hallway.  I can’t blame him.  The woman - Mazelinka - commands every last inch of this house.  That much is clear.  She turns back to me, chuckling.  “Scolding them never grows old - even if I do.  You’re not in much better shape, are you?”

“I, um -”  My trousers are covered in mud, my shirt is still stained with blood, and between an unintended swim and running through the streets, I’m positive my hair is a sight to behold.  

“Don’t worry, girl.  If you’re a friend of that scalawag’s you’re a friend of mine.  Come, I think I can find something clean that will do you for the time being.”  She walks back to the curtained off room, steps strong and sure despite her age.  “So what’s your name?”

“Uh, Dema, ma’am.”

She laughs aloud and opens a chest by the foot of the bed, rummaging through the contents.  “Ma’am, huh - haven’t heard that one in a while.  So, what was it this time?  Bar brawl, tripped over his own feet and into a canal, ill considered fight with a bull, waiting for smugglers on the beach, then running from the guards?”

“Vampire eel.  It actually bit me, but -”

“Ah, you were the one who tripped over your own feet and into the canal!  That 'curse' of his is awfully handy at times.”  Mazelinka thrusts a bundle of fabric at me.  “It’ll be big on you, but it’ll do to curl up next to that lout and sleep in.”  She winks, and I feel my cheeks warming at her casual implication that I would be sleeping here.  With Julian.  Not that I am exactly opposed to the idea.  “I'll have your clothes clean by morning, but I’m not sure that bloodstain is coming out.”

“It’s, you don’t have to,”  I stammer through a half hearted protest.  She puts her hand on my arm and pats it kindly.

“You’ve clearly had a hard night.  No sense staggering off to whenever it is you live these days.  Go wash up a bit.  And I'll warm up some soup.  Looks like the both of you could use it.”

She adds two worn, but soft towels to the pile in my arms and shoves me toward the back door.  Confused, but feeling strangely secure under her care, I pull the door open and step out into a walked off yard.  Julian's jacket and shirt are laying on the ground in a haphazard pile, and he's cleaning the blood off his side with a damp cloth.  He looks up and grins.  “Not enough water left to just pour it over my head.  And the curse unfortunately doesn't clean up after itself.”

I drape the clothing Mazelinka gave me over the back of a chair by the door and walk over to him, touching the unbroken skin where the bite should have been.  “Amazing.  Do you know how it works?”

He shivers as I trail my fingers up his chest.  “I don't understand the first thing about magic.  Not the how.  Not the why.”  

"How'd you come by it?"

"I told you, it's As- the witch's work."  

There he goes ago, almost saying Asra's name before cutting himself off.  Just how badly had that ended?  I take a step closer to him, hand now pressed flat against his chest.  "I think I'd recognize Asra's work."  Whatever this magic was, it wasn’t Asra’s doing.  The signature was something even more enigmatic.

"Would you?”  He curls his fingers around my hand, looking down at me with serious eyes.  "How well do you know him, Dema?  Things he's done?"

"I -”  Pulling my hand out of his, I take a step back.  I want to know, but I'm not sure that I want to know.  Asra is my only constant, or at least the comforting illusion of a constant.  "What has he done?”

"Is blood normally used in magic?”

Blood?  What had Asra been up to, if he was using blood magic?  That didn’t necessarily indicate malevolence, but it was a sign of desperation if he had resorted to blood magic.  "Not often.  Blood is very potent as part of a spell - dangerous even.  Julian, what was he trying to do?"  I had never tried anything with blood, but all the books were stern in their warnings.  The amount of power that blood magic could unleash, even if well intended, could get out of hand quickly.

"I, well that is -”  Julian groans and rubs his forehead.  "I don't remember.  But after, after whatever it was, Lucio's room went up in flames, and I had this, this mark, this curse - whatever the hell it is."  He leans over and begins to undo the fastenings of his boots - no small undertaking.  “I, um, don't really even like magic, truth be told.”

“You seem to have an intimate enough relationship with it.”

“Yeah, well, um, sometimes marriages get arranged without much input from the involved parties.”  He struggles out of one boot, then the other, leaving me wondering just why he'd choose to wear something so impractical.  Thick socks come off next, and he briskly runs a damp towel over each foot, pausing to rub at the arch before tossing the washrag in the same pile as his shirt and jacket.  “Guess I should let you clean up some.”  Flexing his bare feet against the ground, he steps back toward the house.  I grab the hem of my shirt to pull it over my head, then realizing I haven't heard the door open or close, I stop and look back over my shoulder.  Julian leans against the doorframe, dopey grin on his face.  I roll my eyes, turn my back to him and peel the damp shirt off, tossing it to the side.

“That's all for now.”

“Mmm... I'll take it, my dear.”

As the door creaks open and closed, I strip out of my muddy and bloody clothing, and hurriedly clean the remaining blood from my hands and torso.  The night is chilly and who knows who Mazelinka's neighbors are.  I toss the shirt she found for me over my head.  It comes well past my knees and threatens to fall off one shoulder or the other, but the rope belt helps hold it in place.  A bit at least.  But it'll do.  I leave my own clothes in a pile beside Julian's, feeling like the world's worst guest, but unsure of what else I could do with them.

Julian is sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in some sort of clean soft pants and a much mended shirt, working on a large bowl of soup.  Mazelinka is talking quietly to him in the same language as before.  I cough, and she looks up, beckoning me over to the table.  “Come eat.  I was just telling Ilya that he isn't leaving until he gets some sleep.  And you look like you need some as well.”

“Maz’, I haven’t really needed that much sleep.  Not since the -”  He yelps as she smacks him once again with her wooden spoon.

“I know, I know.  Since the curse.  Eat.”  She taps the spoon against the top of his head for good measure and ladles out a bowl for me from a pot tucked into a compartment of the massive oven.  Turning aside for a moment, she add a few pinches of herbs to the bowl, followed by a generous spoonful of sour cream.  She hands the bowl to me.  I raise my eyebrows at her and breath in the rising steam.  It's a simple, homey soup, mostly cabbage, onions, and carrots seasoned with plenty of garlic and caraway, but I recognize several non culinary herbs.  All innocuous enough, and all intended for the same thing: encouraging an overly busy mind to rest.  I nod knowingly at her and dig in.  If this actually gets me to sleep, I will insist on the recipe.

She watches with satisfaction as we both polish off a bowl.  “Here, girl -”  She slides a tortoiseshell comb across the table to me.  “Thought you might want to straighten out your hair a bit.”  She disappears down the back hallway.  I grab a lock of my hair and work at the tangles.  

"Here, let me help."  Julian takes the comb from me and starts working on my hair.  "I used to help my little sister fix hers."

"Portia is worried about you."  

He pauses for a moment and sighs.  "I wish she wouldn't.  I'm not worth it.  Anyway -” He continues with my hair.  "How is she?  We didn't have much to talk yesterday, and she spent most of it telling me off.  Deserved it, I'll admit."

"I think she likes working at the palace.  But it's complicated for her.  She really cares about the Countess, so . . ."

"Yeah . . . If I had known, I probably would have just stayed gone.  Everyone would be happier that way."

"Why would you assume that?  She and I want to prove that you're innocent.  Then there's no conflict."

He leans his head against my shoulder, mumbling his next line morosely against my neck.  "There you go again, assuming I'm innocent.  Did your cards tell you that or something?”

"No, but I still believe that you are."

He lifts his head and starts working on the other side of my hair.  "Well, I hope you can prove it.  Not for me, really.  I may not have murdered the Count, but I'm sure I did something to deserve hanging.  But for Pasha. And Maz.  And, well, you.  I'm not a good person to start caring about, Dema."

“I’m not sure that you get much say over who cares for you.”  I’m not convinced that we get much say over who we care for either.  Life certainly would be easier if we did, instead of remaining attached to people.

Mazelinka returns with my filthy clothes dining them into the sink along with a bucket of water and a handful of soft soap.  "Won't be dry until mid morning tomorrow, so I'll leave you two to sleep in.  Don't know about you, girl, but that one is forever owing a debt to Hypnos."

“And Thanatos!”  Julian chimes in, far too cheerily to be about the idea of owing Death.

The old woman sighs and shakes her head.  “Well, then, I’m getting these old bones to bed.  The two of you can sleep in the loft.  Should still be blankets up there from the last time you crashed through the window, Ilya.”  

~~~

There’s a loft, probably intended for storage, over the kitchen accessible by a ladder and closed off with a curtain.  Julian climbs up the ladder then reaches down, offering me a hand that I refuse.  It's easier to climb with both hands.  I roll into the loft and summon a light before I pull the heavy curtains closed behind me.  It’s a small space - not even I could stand upright and Julian’s head threatens to brush the ceiling when he sits upright.  There’s a thick mattress and a pile of pillows and blankets.  It’s a cozy little nook, much more than a makeshift place to hole up for a night.  Julian tosses pillows into a heap at one end of the mattress, snaps a blanket out, and arranges his long limbs out on the bed.   

“Don't worry.  I'll be a perfect gentleman.”

“Oh will you now?”  I lay down on my side next him and trail my fingers over his chest.  “That's a shame.”  Flattening my palm against his shoulder, I push him onto his back.  Or rather, he lets me push him, responding to the slightest pressure from my hand.  He pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my palm and nibbles at my fingertips.  “I'm not much sure I'm interested in perfect gentlemen.”

“I, um, I can -”  He bites his bottom lip as I swing one leg over him, straddling his waist yet again.  I slide my hands up to his shoulders, then his jaw, before cradling his face and running my thumbs over his cheekbones.  Kissing the tip of his nose, I run one hand through his hair and draw the other along his jaw, enjoying the feeling of the beginning of a beard underneath my fingers.  His breath is a gasp, catching briefly in his throat.  “I can be whatever you want.”

“Can you now?”  I lean over and kiss him, slowly, taking my time with his lips and catching my fingers in his lovely hair.  Strong hands wrap around the back of my thighs, sliding up until I'm very aware I'm not wearing anything underneath this shirt.

“Mmm, yeah, whatever you want.  Tell me.  I'll do it."  

What will be the interruption this time?  A flock of angry chickens?  His granny with a spoon?  I should feel worse about canoodling in a house that didn't belong to either of us, but a couple of days worth of frustrated lust was overwhelming good manners.  Well, and given the nudge and the wink I had, it seemed like the old woman both expected and approved of canoodling.  But, a bit of precaution might be in order.  I straighten up for a moment and weave my fingers through the air, adding an extra layer over the heavy curtains to prevent any sounds from passing through and fixing a gently glowing ball of light in one corner of the loft.  Then I untie the sash from around my waist and begin undoing the buttons on my borrowed shirt - probably one of his spare ones.  His hands tighten on me, fingers digging into my ass cheeks.  Leaning back down I press my cheek against his and nibble at his earlobe.  "Tell me what you like."  I drag my teeth against the skin where his neck and jaw meet, end of the day stubble scratching just so against my lips.  He moans.  "Is that something?”

"Yes . . . please, harder."

"Hmm."  I return to his neck leaving a trail of bite marks down to his collarbone, taking time with each one, even if it will fade almost immediately.  His hands slide deeper between my legs, fingertips teasing against the folds that I can already feel growing swollen and wet.  I press my mouth harder to his collarbone, hiking happily against him as one of his hands drags back around my thigh, turning and pushing back between my legs, fingers running along the outside folds, still teasing.  Let him tease.  I feel relaxed and languid, safe in this little nest.  

I slide my hands from his shoulders to his chest, running fingers around his nipples and experimentally catching one between thumb and forefinger.  "And here?”  

"Mmm, still harder."  

I pinch my fingers together as tightly as I can, getting a groan of pleasure from him.  A notion strikes me, and I use magic to chill my fingers, nearly to ice.  He jerks in surprise, then moans as my lips close around his nipple, scraping my teeth over it.  

"Do that again."  

I laugh softly, then repeat the process on the other side of his chest.  When I lift my head, his eyes and closed and his cheeks flushed.  I draw a chilled hand down his sternum, then reverse the spell, raising my fingers to just above body temperature before drawing them back up to his collarbone, pausing and cocking an eyebrow at him.  This please is a gasp.  I smile and press my hand - cold again - against his neck.  He moans, biting his lower lip, and I push a bit harder against his throat before leaning over to kiss the cold away.

"I, uh -”  He gasps again as I press a chilled thumb to the pulse point on the other side of his neck.  I close my teeth over the same spot, biting hard, even if I know that the curse side of whatever spell he’s under will heal the bruise within moments.  His hands tighten on my thighs as he moans beneath me.

I sit up and undo the remaining buttons on my shirt.   "Julian."  His eyes snap open, then widen at the sight of the shirt falling off my shoulders.  "Touch me."  His left hand uncurls from my thigh and ghosts along my stomach, settling over my breast, heel pressing into soft flesh while his fingers toyed the hardened nipple.  I sink into a sigh as his other hand finally works between my legs, middle finger circling my entrance then dragging along my slit, teasing up then back down to push inside me, rubbing just so.  Letting myself fall forward with tiny whine, I find his lips with mine, hips raised just high enough from his chest to give his fingers access while I roll my hips against his hand.  A second finger joins the first curling inside me, while his thumb circles my clit.

His hand withdraws, and I grab at his wrist with a plaintive whine, while he sits up, and pushes me back against his folded legs.  His erect cock nudges between my legs, as he sits up, pulling me against him, sucking at my neck and playing with my breasts again.  I reach down, pausing to dip my fingers between my legs, coating them with moisture before sliding them over Julian's cock.  He groans against my neck as I circle the thumb if one hand around the head of his cock, the other drawing up and down his shaft.   

And it seems we've dancing toward this since the moment he spoke from the shadows in my shop.  I slide down on him, and it's not joining, it's rejoining, picking back up after some inexplicable absence.  I come, gasping, my mouth pressed to his chest, and he follows a few moments later, thrusts exquisite, almost painful, against me.  We’re still for a moment, sweaty foreheads pressed together, panting breaths ghosting across each others lips.  Then, tugging me with he, he falls back against the pillow, leaving behind a hollow, lonely ache as he slides out of me.  His hands pulling me up to smother my face in kisses is some consolation, especially his lips pressing softly against my closed eyelids.  Sated, satisfied, I tuck my head against his neck, curling up on top of his chest, happy to keep our limbs tangled together.   

I’m in a library.  I lift my head off a desk that’s littered with books and notebooks and run my fingers through my hair.  It’s short, barely enough to run my fingers through.  Shorter than I ever remember cutting it.  This isn’t the palace library.  The space is cavernous, cold, utilitarian.  I stand up, running my fingers over the books on the desk.  I know what’s in them.  I could summarize each, but I don’t remember reading them.

I pick a book from a nearby shelf and flip it open.  It's a picture book.  A little girl with hair like mine is sitting in her father's lap while he reads to her.  Hands trembling, I put the book back.  I want to see this.  I want to see it all.  But not now.  Right now, I can't bear it.

The aisle between the shelves leads down to a door.  I push it open and step out onto a bridge.  Chunks of ice float on the surface of the water below.  It’d be so easy to join them.  A fall, a couple of minutes of pain from bones breaking against the surface tension, but no more than three minutes, probably less.  Then nothing but being carried away by the river.  Away from whatever it is that done, whatever I fucked up this time.  

I shudder.  I’ve been here before.  Thought that before.

Turning back to the door, I pull my clothes - wool knits and fur lined coat, so much heavier than anything I own - tight around me.  I don’t want to be here.  Not again.

The door doesn’t lead back to the library.  It doesn’t lead anywhere, not for me.  I’m not in the back room of the shop.  But the room is there, filled with the smoke of an incense I don’t recognize.  But of course, I can’t because I’m not actually there.  Asra is hunched over a table, a curious collection of crystals and bones spread in front of him.  A diagram is chalked on the table - the same one that’s on Julian’s neck.  Julian sits across from him at the table.  His face is a study in confusion and concern. 

“Asra, what are you?  How will this -”

Asra lifts his head, cutting off the question.  “I wonder just how much you’re willing to give, Ilya.”

“For -”  His eyes - both of them, he isn’t wearing an eyepatch - flick to the right, to where I’d be standing.  If I were there, instead of not there.  “Anything.  All of me.  You know that.”

Perspective folds in on itself, and Asra’s face becomes visible.  There’s a look in his eyes I’ve never seen before.  Ruthless, cold violet, no sign of their usual softness.  His fingers wrap around a small curved knife.  “Oh Ilya, I don’t need all of you.  Just your hand.”

Julian gnaws at his bottom lip for a moment, then holds out his right hand, bare and unprotected by a glove.  Asra draws the knife across Julian’s palm and holds his hand over the diagram, letting Julian’s blood fall on each of the four points of the diagram.  Julian watches, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.  Asra turns his hand over, lips curling into something that resembles a smile, but isn’t quite one.  He bends over Julian’s hand and draws his tongue across the cut before letting go of his fingers.

“What will that do?”

Asra shrugs and stands up.  “Maybe nothing.”  He steps around the table and takes Julian’s hand again, bringing it to his mouth and pressing lips to knuckles.

Julian looks up at him, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide.  "And that's all?"

"Why, Ilya?”  Asra turns over Julian's hand, inspecting the cut across his palm.  As he runs his thumb over it the flesh knots back together.  He cups Julian’s jaw in his hand, smearing blood across his cheekbone.  When he speaks his voice is deceptively soft.  "Did you want me to hurt you more?”

Julian clutches at Asra’s hip with his other hand.  His head drops forward onto Asra’s chest.  “Asra -”

Asra tilts his head to the side and strokes his hand through Julian’s hair.  The gesture is almost tender.  “I can’t give you what you want, Ilya.”  He places the emphasis on can’t, as if he somehow regrets what he’s saying.

Julian lifts his head, looking up at Asra.  “I’ll take what I can get.”  

The door reappears and with it my hands.  I pull it open and step out onto a beach.  Grey in the moonlight and smelling of equal parts smoke and ash.  Here the air is warm and humid.  I shrug off the coat, letting it fall to the sand, and unwind the scarf from around my neck.  My hair is long once more, hanging down my back in a simple braid.

A slender figure, white hair glowing in the moonlight stands on the shore, looking out over a bay.  Asra.  I walk up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  He turns, looking at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen on his face.  No laughter.  No teasing.  Just pain and remorse.  “I’m sorry.  I should have taken you with me.”

"Where?”

"Anywhere but here."

There's a crackle and a roar behind me, and I turn the see the door burst into flames.  "No!”  I bolt for the door, hoping - praying - that this time it would lead back to the library, that I could grab one or two of the books - the books with the little girl who looked like me.  I needed them, needed to know what had happened to her!  Asra catches me, both arms wrapped around my waist.

"Don't, you'll get hurt."

"Let me go."  I twist out of his hands and scramble across the sand.  Another pair of hands stops me, grasping my shoulders.  I look up.  Julian.  He spins me around and grabs my wrists.

"Not again.  I won't let you die.  Not this time."

I struggle against his grip, trying to twist away.  Suddenly, my left arm burns, like it's caught fire.  The flesh peels back from my bones, blackening.  Tendons constricting then giving way, and I can't pull my eyes away.  The left wrist - it's not mine, not anymore - disarticulates as I watch, fingerbones falling into the sand beneath my feet, little sticks of charcoal in the ashy sand.

I wake with a gasp, breathing hard and confused about whether I'm awake or still dreaming, much less where I am, or whose arms are uncomfortably tight around me.  The events of the past day slowly come into focus as the images of the dream fade away.  The red poison seeping into the water, eels, and Julian, no Ilya.  Somehow I feel safer remembering the name Mazelinka called him.  Feeling his warmth beside me.

But his hand is tight around my arm, tight enough that I'm starting to worry about a bruise.  He moans and mumbles in his sleep.  I don't catch much beyond, “sorry, so sorry . . . My fault . . . should have . . .”

I pry his fingers from my arm and summon a dim light.  Behind his eyelids, his eyes are saying back and forth, locked in whatever dream he's experiencing.  “Julian.”  I try to keep my voice low.  “Ilya.  Wake up.  You're dreaming.”  He moans again, and I tap my hand against his cheek.  “It's a dream.”

He wakes with a gasp, sitting up, folding his legs to his chest and hunching over them.  I rub his back and wait for his breathing to slow down. 

“I woke you,” he finally says.  “Sorry about that.”

“Shh.  It's okay.”  I continue kneading his shoulders as much to keep myself calm as the comfort him.  Easier to just focus on him than to worry about what might underlie my own nightmares.  “What was it?”

"A beach, a fire..."  He hides his face behind both hands for a moment then pushes them back through his hair.  "Always those fucking fires..."

My own breath catches in my throat and I feel my heart start to pound again.  He was dreaming of a beach and a fire as well.  Were we somehow in the same dream?  I chew at the edge of my thumb, caught between equally powerful impulses both to ask and to not ask the next question.  "Who were you apologizing to?”  

Julian shakes his head sadly and turns his face to me.  He runs his thumb along the lines of my face, before leaning over and kissing me gently.  “Someone I failed.  Someone I lost.  But I can never see her.  Just an outline against flames."

Was I . . .?  It would explain so much: my immediate sense of connection to him, his murmured not this time, how I just knew in my bones that he wasn't a bad man - no matter what he said about it.  I settle back on the pillows and pull his head down to my breast where I can continue to play with his hair.  “It’ll be okay.”

"You keep saying that."  His breath is warm on my collarbone.  The implication, of course, is that I don't know.  And he's right.  I don't know.  I don't know if I can find evidence that will exonerate him.  I don't know that even if I do that the Countess, that Nadia, will accept it, no matter how much I hope that Portia's faith in her isn't misplaced.  Perhaps Julian is right that Asra has some of the answers, if only he can be convinced to reveal them.  But neither of us know.  And while the more bits and pieces (or rather gaps where there should be at least hints of information), I uncover are leading me to believe that untangling this knot of stories around the Count's murder will have something to do with my own missing memories, I don't know that.  I don't even know that I want to know.

I do know that I want Julian.  I want him whether I ever recall the memories of him that I've decided are there, hidden away past the smoke, past the fire.

"Let's leave."

"What?  What are you talking about?”

"Here.  Vesuvia.  Fuck Vesuvia, let's just leave."  I never wanted to be involved with the Countess anyway.  I didn't care who had murdered the Count.  And if we stayed - if Julian stayed - and I didn't figure that out, he'd die for something he hadn't done.  I don't trust my skills as an investigator or an advocate that much.  And Asra, well, whatever there is  between us, I can't continue what we've been doing.  No matter how much I care for, how much I love him.  I’ll leave him a note with his tarot deck.  If he actually wanted me in his life he could damn well come find me instead of leaving me to wait for him.  

"Leave the city?"

"Yes."

"But, but isn't your whole life here?"

"My whole life - the part I can remember - is three fucking years."  And really only two of those are clear.  My memories of the city are little more than glimmers of recognition seen out of the corner of my eye, only to disappear when I turned my attention to them.  And Julian . . . Julian is the brightest of those glimmers.  "That's not much to leave behind."

"Three years?”

"I can't . . . I don't know how to explain it.  I only remember the last three years."

"Nothing else?”

"No.  Nothing that I can reach.  Sometimes I get hints, intuitions, that there's something there, but I can never grasp it.  Then I get these awful headaches."

"Dema -"

"I know it sounds impossible.  It should be impossible.  Yet it's the truth.  And you, I feel like I know - knew - you."

Julian raises one hand to the side of his head, rubbing at his temple as though he feels a headache coming on.  "I don't remember you, but . . . what you're describing, it's so, I mean, I feel the same, I think.  But I came back here to try to figure out why my memories from three years ago are so shot full of holes.  I can't leave until I do that."  He sighs and snuggles back against me.  “I can’t even remember what I did that makes me feel so guilty.  How do you come back from doing something awful?  Can you even?”

I continue to run one hand through his hair, and drape the other across his back, holding him tight against me.  “We don’t get much of a choice.  We just have to."

His eyelids pinch closed in a pained expression, and I run my thumb lightly over them, trace the bridge of his nose, and brush over his lips before letting my hand slide down his neck and return to his.  I’m surprised when he falls back asleep, seemingly lulled by the simple touch.  I'm more surprised when my mind slows, and I follow.

Next chapter.

Masterpost

a/n: chapter title from Franz Ferdinand, ‘Katherine, Kiss Me’

[aria-i-adagio]

Yes, I Love You, I Mean, I’d Love to Get to Know You (sfw)

Masterpost

Fandom: The Arcana

Chapter Rating: This version has no lemons.  If you want the lemon, go here.

Warning: The dream sequence in italics has some body horror and mention of suicidal ideation.

Wordcount: 5800

The streets are quiet - a touch too late for people to be headed to the bars, and a little early for people to be headed back home from them - when we reemerge from the garden.  Julian offers me his arm and I take it, walking close to him, stepping quickly to keep up with is long strides; although, I can tell that he’s slowing his pace for me.

“Why were you at the reservoir anyway?”

“Hmm?  Oh, yeah, that.  I like being near water.  Helps me think.  Usually I go down by the docks but they’re pretty busy during the day.  It’s a lot quieter there.  The reservoir, I mean, not the docks.”  He squeezes my hand.  “Worked out well enough for me.”

“That’s debatable.”

“What you mean the eel bite?  That’s nothing.  Minor inconvenience.”  He loops his arm around my waist and lifts me over a section of crumbled sidewalk.  I could just as easily have stepped over it.  “Besides what if I hadn’t been there and you fell in anyway.  Doesn’t bear thinking of.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, I’ve got to be good for something after all.”  He stops beside a low stone wall.  “Ah, here we are.  Up and over.”  As with the terrible hazard of the sidewalk, he picks me up and sets me on the walk.  I spin my legs over and drop down into the sideyard of a humble cottage.  Julian vaults himself over the wall landing beside me and steps over the house, pushing open a window.  “Don’t want to risk someone seeing us,” he explains as he boosts me through the window and into a cluttered kitchen.  I don’t have time to look around before he follows, tumbling through the window and knocking a flowerpot to the floor with a crash.

There’s an indignant shout from the room beyond.  “Ilya - tisyache raz ckazala tebe, u menya est’ dver dlya princhiye!”  A short, stout woman holding an oil lamp in her hand and scolding in a language I don’t immediately recognize, pushes aside a curtain and matches on the room.  She grips a spoon like sword in her other hand and shakes it menacingly at Julian.  He cringes dramatically, ducking and throwing his hands over his head.

“Sorry, Mazelinka.  I’ll um, I’ll get you a new flowerpot.”

“Hmph.  It’s not the pot I’m worried about.”  She looks me over and switches to the trade language.  “And who is this?”  She sets the lantern down on the table and peers at me closely.  Her eyes narrow for a moment focusing on my face, then she shakes her head and takes one slow step back from me.  “Girl, is it actually you?”

“I’m sorry I don’t know you.”  I don’t remember meeting - ever seeing her - before, but does she know me?  It’s certainly possible.  Hypothetically I did know people other than Asra in the twenty five odd years I’m missing.

She raises one eyebrow at me, then with the smallest shake of her head, turns her gaze on Julian.  “And what is this?  You not only broke in through the window, you’re trailing blood and mud across my floors!”

“Um, yeah, had a bit of a mishap.  Several mishaps, actually.”

She swats him with the wooden spoon.  “Go get yourself washed up, Ilya.  There’s some clothes of yours in the chest by the back door.”

“Mazelinka, this is -”

“Your friend is safe enough with me.  Shoo.”

Julian gives me a helpless look then retreats down a short hallway.  I can’t blame him.  The woman - Mazelinka - commands every last inch of this house.  That much is clear.  She turns back to me, chuckling.  “Scolding them never grows old - even if I do.  You’re not in much better shape, are you?”

“I, um -”  My trousers are covered in mud, my shirt is still stained with blood, and between an unintended swim and running through the streets, I’m positive my hair is a sight to behold.  

“Don’t worry, girl.  If you’re a friend of that scalawag’s you’re a friend of mine.  Come, I think I can find something clean that will do you for the time being.”  She walks back to the curtained off room, steps strong and sure despite her age.  “So what’s your name?”

“Uh, Dema, ma’am.”

She laughs aloud and opens a chest by the foot of the bed, rummaging through the contents.  “Ma’am, huh - haven’t heard that one in a while.  So, what was it this time?  Bar brawl, tripped over his own feet and into a canal, ill considered fight with a bull, waiting for smugglers on the beach, then running from the guards?”

“Vampire eel.  It actually bit me, but -”

“Ah, you were the one who tripped over your own feet and into the canal!  That 'curse' of his is awfully handy at times.”  Mazelinka thrusts a bundle of fabric at me.  “It’ll be big on you, but it’ll do to curl up next to that lout and sleep in.”  She winks, and I feel my cheeks warming at her casual implication that I would be sleeping here.  With Julian.  Not that I am exactly opposed to the idea.  “I'll have your clothes clean by morning, but I’m not sure that bloodstain is coming out.”

“It’s, you don’t have to,”  I stammer through a half hearted protest.  She puts her hand on my arm and pats it kindly.

“You’ve clearly had a hard night.  No sense staggering off to whenever it is you live these days.  Go wash up a bit.  And I'll warm up some soup.  Looks like the both of you could use it.”

She adds two worn, but soft towels to the pile in my arms and shoves me toward the back door.  Confused, but feeling strangely secure under her care, I pull the door open and step out into a walked off yard.  Julian's jacket and shirt are laying on the ground in a haphazard pile, and he's cleaning the blood off his side with a damp cloth.  He looks up and grins.  “Not enough water left to just pour it over my head.  And the curse unfortunately doesn't clean up after itself.”

I drape the clothing Mazelinka gave me over the back of a chair by the door and walk over to him, touching the unbroken skin where the bite should have been.  “Amazing.  Do you know how it works?”

He shivers as I trail my fingers up his chest.  “I don't understand the first thing about magic.  Not the how.  Not the why.”  

"How'd you come by it?"

"I told you, it's As- the witch's work."  

There he goes ago, almost saying Asra's name before cutting himself off.  Just how badly had that ended?  I take a step closer to him, hand now pressed flat against his chest.  "I think I'd recognize Asra's work."  Whatever this magic was, it wasn’t Asra’s doing.  The signature was something even more enigmatic.

"Would you?”  He curls his fingers around my hand, looking down at me with serious eyes.  "How well do you know him, Dema?  Things he's done?"

"I -”  Pulling my hand out of his, I take a step back.  I want to know, but I'm not sure that I want to know.  Asra is my only constant, or at least the comforting illusion of a constant.  "What has he done?”

"Is blood normally used in magic?”

Blood?  What had Asra been up to, if he was using blood magic?  That didn’t necessarily indicate malevolence, but it was a sign of desperation if he had resorted to blood magic.  "Not often.  Blood is very potent as part of a spell - dangerous even.  Julian, what was he trying to do?"  I had never tried anything with blood, but all the books were stern in their warnings.  The amount of power that blood magic could unleash, even if well intended, could get out of hand quickly.

"I, well that is -”  Julian groans and rubs his forehead.  "I don't remember.  But after, after whatever it was, Lucio's room went up in flames, and I had this, this mark, this curse - whatever the hell it is."  He leans over and begins to undo the fastenings of his boots - no small undertaking.  “I, um, don't really even like magic, truth be told.”

“You seem to have an intimate enough relationship with it.”

“Yeah, well, um, sometimes marriages get arranged without much input from the involved parties.”  He struggles out of one boot, then the other, leaving me wondering just why he'd choose to wear something so impractical.  Thick socks come off next, and he briskly runs a damp towel over each foot, pausing to rub at the arch before tossing the washrag in the same pile as his shirt and jacket.  “Guess I should let you clean up some.”  Flexing his bare feet against the ground, he steps back toward the house.  I grab the hem of my shirt to pull it over my head, then realizing I haven't heard the door open or close, I stop and look back over my shoulder.  Julian leans against the doorframe, dopey grin on his face.  I roll my eyes, turn my back to him and peel the damp shirt off, tossing it to the side.

“That's all for now.”

“Mmm... I'll take it, my dear.”

As the door creaks open and closed, I strip out of my muddy and bloody clothing, and hurriedly clean the remaining blood from my hands and torso.  The night is chilly and who knows who Mazelinka's neighbors are.  I toss the shirt she found for me over my head.  It comes well past my knees and threatens to fall off one shoulder or the other, but the rope belt helps hold it in place.  A bit at least.  But it'll do.  I leave my own clothes in a pile beside Julian's, feeling like the world's worst guest, but unsure of what else I could do with them.

Julian is sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in some sort of clean soft pants and a much mended shirt, working on a large bowl of soup.  Mazelinka is talking quietly to him in the same language as before.  I cough, and she looks up, beckoning me over to the table.  “Come eat.  I was just telling Ilya that he isn't leaving until he gets some sleep.  And you look like you need some as well.”

“Maz’, I haven’t really needed that much sleep.  Not since the -”  He yelps as she smacks him once again with her wooden spoon.

“I know, I know.  Since the curse.  Eat.”  She taps the spoon against the top of his head for good measure and ladles out a bowl for me from a pot tucked into a compartment of the massive oven.  Turning aside for a moment, she add a few pinches of herbs to the bowl, followed by a generous spoonful of sour cream.  She hands the bowl to me.  I raise my eyebrows at her and breath in the rising steam.  It's a simple, homey soup, mostly cabbage, onions, and carrots seasoned with plenty of garlic and caraway, but I recognize several non culinary herbs.  All innocuous enough, and all intended for the same thing: encouraging an overly busy mind to rest.  I nod knowingly at her and dig in.  If this actually gets me to sleep, I will insist on the recipe.

She watches with satisfaction as we both polish off a bowl.  “Here, girl -”  She slides a tortoiseshell comb across the table to me.  “Thought you might want to straighten out your hair a bit.”  She disappears down the back hallway.  I grab a lock of my hair and work at the tangles.  

"Here, let me help."  Julian takes the comb from me and starts working on my hair.  "I used to help my little sister fix hers."

"Portia is worried about you."  

He pauses for a moment and sighs.  "I wish she wouldn't.  I'm not worth it.  Anyway -” He continues with my hair.  "How is she?  We didn't have much to talk yesterday, and she spent most of it telling me off.  Deserved it, I'll admit."

"I think she likes working at the palace.  But it's complicated for her.  She really cares about the Countess, so . . ."

"Yeah . . . If I had known, I probably would have just stayed gone.  Everyone would be happier that way."

"Why would you assume that?  She and I want to prove that you're innocent.  Then there's no conflict."

He leans his head against my shoulder, mumbling his next line morosely against my neck.  "There you go again, assuming I'm innocent.  Did your cards tell you that or something?”

"No, but I still believe that you are."

He lifts his head and starts working on the other side of my hair.  "Well, I hope you can prove it.  Not for me, really.  I may not have murdered the Count, but I'm sure I did something to deserve hanging.  But for Pasha. And Maz.  And, well, you.  I'm not a good person to start caring about, Dema."

“I’m not sure that you get much say over who cares for you.”  I’m not convinced that we get much say over who we care for either.  Life certainly would be easier if we did, instead of remaining attached to people.

Mazelinka returns with my filthy clothes dining them into the sink along with a bucket of water and a handful of soft soap.  "Won't be dry until mid morning tomorrow, so I'll leave you two to sleep in.  Don't know about you, girl, but that one is forever owing a debt to Hypnos."

“And Thanatos!”  Julian chimes in, far too cheerily to be about the idea of owing Death.

The old woman sighs and shakes her head.  “Well, then, I’m getting these old bones to bed.  The two of you can sleep in the loft.  Should still be blankets up there from the last time you crashed through the window, Ilya.”  

~~~

There’s a loft, probably intended for storage, over the kitchen accessible by a ladder and closed off with a curtain.  Julian climbs up the ladder then reaches down, offering me a hand that I refuse.  It's easier to climb with both hands.  I roll into the loft and summon a light before I pull the heavy curtains closed behind me.  It’s a small space - not even I could stand upright and Julian’s head threatens to brush the ceiling when he sits upright.  There’s a thick mattress and a pile of pillows and blankets.  It’s a cozy little nook, much more than a makeshift place to hole up for a night.  Julian tosses pillows into a heap at one end of the mattress, snaps a blanket out, and arranges his long limbs out on the bed.  

“Don't worry.  I'll be a perfect gentleman.”

*****

I’m in a library.  I lift my head off a desk that’s littered with books and notebooks and run my fingers through my hair.  It’s short, barely enough to run my fingers through.  Shorter than I ever remember cutting it.  This isn’t the palace library.  The space is cavernous, cold, utilitarian.  I stand up, running my fingers over the books on the desk.  I know what’s in them.  I could summarize each, but I don’t remember reading them.

I pick a book from a nearby shelf and flip it open.  It's a picture book.  A little girl with hair like mine is sitting in her father's lap while he reads to her.  Hands trembling, I put the book back.  I want to see this.  I want to see it all.  But not now.  Right now, I can't bear it.

The aisle between the shelves leads down to a door.  I push it open and step out onto a bridge.  Chunks of ice float on the surface of the water below.  It’d be so easy to join them.  A fall, a couple of minutes of pain from bones breaking against the surface tension, but no more than three minutes, probably less.  Then nothing but being carried away by the river.  Away from whatever it is that done, whatever I fucked up this time.  

I shudder.  I’ve been here before.  Thought that before.

Turning back to the door, I pull my clothes - wool knits and fur lined coat, so much heavier than anything I own - tight around me.  I don’t want to be here.  Not again.

The door doesn’t lead back to the library.  It doesn’t lead anywhere, not for me.  I’m not in the back room of the shop.  But the room is there, filled with the smoke of an incense I don’t recognize.  But of course, I can’t because I’m not actually there.  Asra is hunched over a table, a curious collection of crystals and bones spread in front of him.  A diagram is chalked on the table - the same one that’s on Julian’s neck.  Julian sits across from him at the table.  His face is a study in confusion and concern.

“Asra, what are you?  How will this -”

Asra lifts his head, cutting off the question.  “I wonder just how much you’re willing to give, Ilya.”

“For -”  His eyes - both of them, he isn’t wearing an eyepatch - flick to the right, to where I’d be standing.  If I were there, instead of not there.  “Anything.  All of me.  You know that.”

Perspective folds in on itself, and Asra’s face becomes visible.  There’s a look in his eyes I’ve never seen before.  Ruthless, cold violet, no sign of their usual softness.  His fingers wrap around a small curved knife.  “Oh Ilya, I don’t need all of you.  Just your hand.”

Julian gnaws at his bottom lip for a moment, then holds out his right hand, bare and unprotected by a glove.  Asra draws the knife across Julian’s palm and holds his hand over the diagram, letting Julian’s blood fall on each of the four points of the diagram.  Julian watches, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.  Asra turns his hand over, lips curling into something that resembles a smile, but isn’t quite one.  He bends over Julian’s hand and draws his tongue across the cut before letting go of his fingers.

“What will that do?”

Asra shrugs and stands up.  “Maybe nothing.”  He steps around the table and takes Julian’s hand again, bringing it to his mouth and pressing lips to knuckles.

Julian looks up at him, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide.  "And that's all?"

"Why, Ilya?”  Asra turns over Julian's hand, inspecting the cut across his palm.  As he runs his thumb over it the flesh knots back together.  He cups Julian’s jaw in his hand, smearing blood across his cheekbone.  When he speaks his voice is deceptively soft.  "Did you want me to hurt you more?”

Julian clutches at Asra’s hip with his other hand.  His head drops forward onto Asra’s chest.  “Asra -”

Asra tilts his head to the side and strokes his hand through Julian’s hair.  The gesture is almost tender.  “I can’t give you what you want, Ilya.”  He places the emphasis on can’t, as if he somehow regrets what he’s saying.

Julian lifts his head, looking up at Asra.  “I’ll take what I can get.”  

The door reappears and with it my hands.  I pull it open and step out onto a beach.  Grey in the moonlight and smelling of equal parts smoke and ash.  Here the air is warm and humid.  I shrug off the coat, letting it fall to the sand, and unwind the scarf from around my neck.  My hair is long once more, hanging down my back in a simple braid.

A slender figure, white hair glowing in the moonlight stands on the shore, looking out over a bay.  Asra.  I walk up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  He turns, looking at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen on his face.  No laughter.  No teasing.  Just pain and remorse.  “I’m sorry.  I should have taken you with me.”

"Where?”

"Anywhere but here."

There's a crackle and a roar behind me, and I turn the see the door burst into flames.  "No!”  I bolt for the door, hoping - praying - that this time it would lead back to the library, that I could grab one or two of the books - the books with the little girl who looked like me.  I needed them, needed to know what had happened to her!  Asra catches me, both arms wrapped around my waist.

"Don't, you'll get hurt."

"Let me go."  I twist out of his hands and scramble across the sand.  Another pair of hands stops me, grasping my shoulders.  I look up.  Julian.  He spins me around and grabs my wrists.

"Not again.  I won't let you die.  Not this time."

I struggle against his grip, trying to twist away.  Suddenly, my left arm burns, like it's caught fire.  The flesh peels back from my bones, blackening.  Tendons constricting then giving way, and I can't pull my eyes away.  The left wrist - it's not mine, not anymore - disarticulates as I watch, fingerbones falling into the sand beneath my feet, little sticks of charcoal in the ashy sand.

I wake with a gasp, breathing hard and confused about whether I'm awake or still dreaming, much less where I am, or whose arms are uncomfortably tight around me.  The events of the past day slowly come into focus as the images of the dream fade away.  The red poison seeping into the water, eels, and Julian, no Ilya.  Somehow I feel safer remembering the name Mazelinka called him.  Feeling his warmth beside me.

But his hand is tight around my arm, tight enough that I'm starting to worry about a bruise.  He moans and mumbles in his sleep.  I don't catch much beyond, “sorry, so sorry . . . My fault . . . should have . . .”

I pry his fingers from my arm and summon a dim light.  Behind his eyelids, his eyes are saying back and forth, locked in whatever dream he's experiencing.  “Julian.”  I try to keep my voice low.  “Ilya.  Wake up.  You're dreaming.”  He moans again, and I tap my hand against his cheek.  “It's a dream.”

He wakes with a gasp, sitting up, folding his legs to his chest and hunching over them.  I rub his back and wait for his breathing to slow down.

“I woke you,” he finally says.  “Sorry about that.”

“Shh.  It's okay.”  I continue kneading his shoulders as much to keep myself calm as the comfort him.  Easier to just focus on him than to worry about what might underlie my own nightmares.  “What was it?”

"A beach, a fire..."  He hides his face behind both hands for a moment then pushes them back through his hair.  "Always those fucking fires..."

My own breath catches in my throat and I feel my heart start to pound again.  He was dreaming of a beach and a fire as well.  Were we somehow in the same dream?  I chew at the edge of my thumb, caught between equally powerful impulses both to ask and to not ask the next question.  "Who were you apologizing to?”  

Julian shakes his head sadly and turns his face to me.  He runs his thumb along the lines of my face, before leaning over and kissing me gently.  “Someone I failed.  Someone I lost.  But I can never see her.  Just an outline against flames."

Was I . . .?  It would explain so much: my immediate sense of connection to him, his murmured not this time, how I just knew in my bones that he wasn't a bad man - no matter what he said about it.  I settle back on the pillows and pull his head down to my breast where I can continue to play with his hair.  “It’ll be okay.”

"You keep saying that."  His breath is warm on my collarbone.  The implication, of course, is that I don't know.  And he's right.  I don't know.  I don't know if I can find evidence that will exonerate him.  I don't know that even if I do that the Countess, that Nadia, will accept it, no matter how much I hope that Portia's faith in her isn't misplaced.  Perhaps Julian is right that Asra has some of the answers, if only he can be convinced to reveal them.  But neither of us know.  And while the more bits and pieces (or rather gaps where there should be at least hints of information), I uncover are leading me to believe that untangling this knot of stories around the Count's murder will have something to do with my own missing memories, I don't know that.  I don't even know that I want to know.

I do know that I want Julian.  I want him whether I ever recall the memories of him that I've decided are there, hidden away past the smoke, past the fire.

"Let's leave."

"What?  What are you talking about?”

"Here.  Vesuvia.  Fuck Vesuvia, let's just leave."  I never wanted to be involved with the Countess anyway.  I didn't care who had murdered the Count.  And if we stayed - if Julian stayed - and I didn't figure that out, he'd die for something he hadn't done.  I don't trust my skills as an investigator or an advocate that much.  And Asra, well, whatever there is  between us, I can't continue what we've been doing.  No matter how much I care for, how much I love him.  I’ll leave him a note with his tarot deck.  If he actually wanted me in his life he could damn well come find me instead of leaving me to wait for him.  

"Leave the city?"

"Yes."

"But, but isn't your whole life here?"

"My whole life - the part I can remember - is three fucking years."  And really only two of those are clear.  My memories of the city are little more than glimmers of recognition seen out of the corner of my eye, only to disappear when I turned my attention to them.  And Julian . . . Julian is the brightest of those glimmers.  "That's not much to leave behind."

"Three years?”

"I can't . . . I don't know how to explain it.  I only remember the last three years."

"Nothing else?”

"No.  Nothing that I can reach.  Sometimes I get hints, intuitions, that there's something there, but I can never grasp it.  Then I get these awful headaches."

"Dema -"

"I know it sounds impossible.  It should be impossible.  Yet it's the truth.  And you, I feel like I know - knew - you."

Julian raises one hand to the side of his head, rubbing at his temple as though he feels a headache coming on.  "I don't remember you, but . . . what you're describing, it's so, I mean, I feel the same, I think.  But I came back here to try to figure out why my memories from three years ago are so shot full of holes.  I can't leave until I do that."  He sighs and snuggles back against me.  “I can’t even remember what I did that makes me feel so guilty.  How do you come back from doing something awful?  Can you even?”

I continue to run one hand through his hair, and drape the other across his back, holding him tight against me.  “We don’t get much of a choice.  We just have to."

His eyelids pinch closed in a pained expression, and I run my thumb lightly over them, trace the bridge of his nose, and brush over his lips before letting my hand slide down his neck and return to his.  I’m surprised when he falls back asleep, seemingly lulled by the simple touch.  I'm more surprised when my mind slows, and I follow.

Next chapter.

Masterpost

a/n: chapter title from Franz Ferdinand, ‘Katherine, Kiss Me’