#asrian lemon

[bakerozza]

FINALLY Asrian nsft too! It was so fucking (lol) fun! 🙏💖

FULL PIC HERE

Asra x Muriel

[devoraqs]

Oh no, they’re Tender

Full version(s) under cut for 🍑 (or because it’s Julian, 🥞)

Minors DNI

[vibzissleepy]

this is so old but its still a banger

[vesuvianist]

Asrian 9, 55, 75? :3c

Thirsty Thursday:NOT ACCEPTING

ꕥ Classic choice, Nonnie

Pairing: Asra x JulianDialogue: 20 — “Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”Location: 55 — LibrarySituation: 75 — Blowjob

▬▬▬▬▬๑✧ ∭ ✧๑▬▬▬▬▬

Kissing Asra was a dangerous game. There was a chance you could come out unscathed, satisfied and still be able to go through your day without wanting to kiss him again. But on the other hand, a single kiss, no matter how chaste, could never be enough. Especially now that Asra had learned how to make Julian into putty with mere seconds of contact. Asra’s toffee colored fingers traced a featherlight touch along Julian’s inner thigh, close enough to tease and too far away to give him what he wanted. He worked relentlessly on Julian’s neck from behind, and his other hand subtly began to thumb open the buttons of Julian’s shirt now that the doctor had finally leaned back in his chair to allow Asra to begin his ministrations.

The sigh that left Julian’s throat was laced with desire. He relaxed further back, letting his head loll to the side for Asra to have more room. But he had to say something before Asra had completely taken away his rational mind. “This is…n-not a good idea, Asra…”

“Hmmmmm~?” the magician purred as he lifted his head, keeping his eyes closed as his kisses now trailed up Julian’s jaw instead. Julian opened his eyes halfway, panting softly. 

“We’re…supposed to be w-working…We don’t have time for this.”

“I am working.” Asra stated matter-of-factly, grinning against Julian’s skin and squeezing his thigh for emphasis, eliciting a soft sound.

“L-Lucio wants a status report within the afternoon!” 

“He’s too stubborn to die any time soon,” Asra argues, twisting his head to kiss right under Julian’s ear. “We have plenty of time.”

Julian huffed softly feeling his resolve start to crumble as Asra’s hand popped open another button. He lifted a hand to cover Asra’s, turning to look at him, feeling his heart melt at the sight of Asra’s tantalizing gaze. “Don’t smile at me like that,” Julian pleaded. “You know it drives me crazy.”

Of course Asra knew it. Hence why his smile only got wider. He tilted his head coyly, voice intimate and seductive. “That is the goal, Ilya.”

The doctor finally yielded when Asra’s fingers ghosted over his crotch, sending shivers through him. He gave a whimpering moan and reached back to pull Asra in for a proper kiss. Asra wasted no time, his tongue sliding between Julian’s lips and teasing him with the precision of a god, pulling open what remained of Julian’s shirt. 

With Julian’s chest now exposed, Asra sought to change their position to make things more easily accessible. He stood upright, touch lingering along Julian’s neck as he walked around the chair and then yanked him up out of it. Julian shouted in surprise, looking down at Asra with anticipation—perhaps a little bit of fear, too. Asra needed only to slowly pivot, his eyes holding enough of a trance on Julian to make him turn as well, and in a fluid motion, he kicked the chair back and pushed Julian onto his own desk, spilling a few books and papers off of it in the process. Asra struck forward like a snake, capturing Julian’s lips in a deep kiss. He whined softly, arms draping around Asra’s waist and holding onto him tightly. Each kiss was intoxicating.

When Julian pulled back to catch his breath, Asra was already biting into the tender flesh of his neck, causing him to inhale sharply, a hand gripping Asra tighter as he felt a rush of heat roll through him. The bite wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark, just enough to tease Julian into begging for more in less visible places. As if on cue, Asra began to kiss downward, his hands roaming over Julian’s chest to massage his skin and slide his thumbs over Julian’s stiffened nipples.

The further down Asra went, the faster Julian’s breath came, and the more color started to flood his face. “I still haven’t repaid you for helping me the other night,” Asra noted with a seductive smile. 

“Y-you didn’t have to.” Julian answered, causing the magician to pause, looking up at him with a cocked eyebrow. Julian stuttered. “That—that is to say, I didn’t—er, it was really nothing buh—but I’m not opposing this, what uh, what we’re doing, it’s fine, you’re fine, I don’t um…I don’t think it’s a bad idea. Ah, I did, before, but I’m not—I don’t think it’s a bad idea anymore. It’s a good idea actually, since well, we haven’t really had an opportunity to, er…”

Asra shook his head, and for a moment it wasn’t clear if he was amused or annoyed, but in any case he silenced Julian’s rambling with a not-so-subtle nuzzle against the growing erection in Julian’s trousers. The instant contact was made, it gave Julian a full body shiver, and he bit down on his lower lip to censor a groan. Asra between his legs was more than an arousing sight. His breath was hot and made Julian’s cock twitch.

“Are you going to keep quiet? We are in a library after all.” he rested his cheek on Julian’s inner thigh, looking up at him with a cunning smile. His hands brushed up and down Julian’s leg, a ghosting touch that made Julian tense. He let out a huff of air and swallowed. 

“I…might need a bit of help with that…”

Asra bit his lip and chuckled warmly, slowly standing upright and caging Julian in between his arms as he leaned in, their bodies flush against each other. His voice was lowered to a near whisper. “Bold of you, Ilya. I like it.”

“Tha-thank you?” he panted softly, blinking a few times. He looked rather embarrassed, but it only fueled Asra. Julian was incredibly easy to fluster, and teasing him had become almost like a game that Asra could never lose. 

“I could just gag you,” Asra suggested in a low purr, bringing a hand up to caress Julian’s chest. “Or…take away your voice,” his hand traveled further upward, running along his neck. His eyes seemed to be a bit darker, though maybe it was a trick of the light. His thumb slid over Julian’s throat, forming a small chokehold, though he didn’t press down. “Or your air.” 

He didn’t need to. Julian’s breath got heavier, his eyes slid closed and his expression twisted in pleasure as the idea sent waves of desire through him. His erection had grown painfully hard, and Asra definitely could feel it against his abdomen. He chuckled, slowly letting his hand fall to tease Julian’s nipple instead. He tilted his head when Julian opened his eyes. 

“Though it’d be hard to have that kind of control from far away. Maybe another day…” he gave Julian a look that promised he would definitely fulfill that fantasy when they had more time. Asra had fully bewitched him, and Julian’s arms pulled Asra closer in their embrace. “A simple gag seems so primitive…maybe we should try some hocus pocus.” he lifted his brows at the name, causing julian to breathe out a slightly startled laugh.

“What–what kind of hocus pocus?”

“The kind that will make it much easier to get away with this without getting caught.” he suggests, humming softly to question his interest.

Julian looked nervous, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Okay…”

Asra lifted the hand from Julian’s chest and pressed two fingers to Julian’s Adam’s apple. Before the doctor could question it, a cooling sensation crept along his throat…but it was so strange. The cold had seeped into him, not just around him. The feeling of Asra’s magic was strange, like nothing he’d felt before. It tingled, sending goosebumps along his skin. When Asra’s hand fell, the cool sensation lingered before it faded.

When Julian tried to ask what Asra had done, his lips moved and there wasn’t a single sound that came out.

Julian gasped, staring at Asra, who returned the stare with a chuckle. He kissed the doctor briefly, and then sank to his knees once more. “Don’t tug on my hair unless you want me to stop. Understand?” he waited for Julian to nod in affirmation. Julian was still trying to get over the fact that Asra had completely taken away his voice. The only sound he could make was his ragged breathing. 

Asra watched Julian with purpose, his hands tugging the loose belt of Julian’s trousers off and opening the top button, releasing his throbbing arousal. The second Asra touched it, Julian shuddered and threw his head back. His whine of pleasure was just a huff of air.

Asra stroked Julian a few times, the darkly flushed skin was hot in his hand, and each movement made Julian curl his toes in his boots. His heart thundered in his chest, unsure of what to anticipate from Asra. His amethyst eyes were unreadable.

The magician took his time, massaging the sensitive flesh, and examining it like an appraisal. His eyes flickered up to look at Julian’s expression, and there was an unspoken understanding of what Asra intended. Julian lifted his hips so fast it was almost comical. Asra chuckled and he released Julian’s cock briefly to tug down his trousers. Once the fabric was pulled down over Julian’s knees, their eyes met for only a moment before Asra leaned in and kissed the inside of Julian’s thigh. At first it was soft, but he quickly changed to gentle nips, and those gentle nips quickly became harder and more purposeful. He threw his head back and took long, deep breaths to calm himself. The sharp sting of Asra’s teeth was combined with a tingling pleasure that traveled up his thigh and straight into his cock. He moved to the other thigh shortly after the first mark was red and sure to change to a bruise, giving the same treatment. He peppered the flesh with kisses and bites, creeping closer and closer, but far enough away that his cock stayed untouched. Soon, his thighs were covered in marks, he’d be able to feel them with each step the next day, and the thought of it made Julian want to cry with pleasure, shivering. He carefully sat up straighter when Asra seemed to slow down, trying to see what was stopping him. 

Apparently Asra just wanted Julian to watch. He smirked when Julian met his gaze, and held it while leaning forward again to swipe his tongue around the head of Julian’s cock. 

It was incredibly satisfying, each swirl sending a pulse of pleasure through him and he leaned back on his desk, breathing harder. If the magic hadn’t silenced him, he’d already be keening. Asra’s tongue was hot and the texture of it on his cock made Julian want to cry out in desperation for more. His technique showed a surprising amount of experience, but Julian couldn’t think to question it. He was too busy relishing in the feeling of Asra’s tongue coaxing him.

Once the tip of his cock was satisfyingly wet, Asra opened his jaw and sank down, his nails digging into Julian’s thigh. The cavern of Asra’s mouth was incredibly warm; Julian gasped when Asra’s hand massaged the base of his cock. He sighed heavily, getting lost in the pleasure as the familiar heat flared in his abdomen and his head started to spin from holding his breath. He reached down and held the back of Asra’s head, not tugging his hair, as instructed, but still desperately pulling him closer. Asra squeezed Julian’s cock, and bobbed faster. 

The wet sound of Asra gently sucking Julian’s cock combined with the desperation of Julian’s breath and soft humming sounds coming from Asra only made the experience more pleasurable. As Julian climbed closer to his orgasm, Asra stopped going so deep, and instead his tongue swiped back and forth along the sensitive spot just below the head. The sensation made Julian pant heavily, and his thighs shook lightly with how tense he became. He wanted to sob from how good it felt, but Asra’s magic only intensified around his vocal chords, making the sound a breathless rasp. He looked down at Asra, who shortly after met his gaze, and pressed his tongue harder into the pleasurable spot, simultaneously sucking harder. Julian’s expression contorted with pleasure and his jaw dropped. Within seconds, his rapture had reached its peak. 

Ropes of cum exploded from Julian’s cock and Asra opened his mouth wider to let each one land on his tongue without hitting the back of his throat and choking him. If he didn’t like the taste, he showed no indication of it. Instead, his darkened eyes stayed locked on Julian’s face as he rode out his orgasm, shuddering from sensitivity. The last of the bittersweet fluid left him exhausted, but Asra sank back in, lazily swallowing around Julian’s cock to keep the pleasurable sensation there, not letting go until his erection had totally softened and he nearly had tears in his eyes from the light overstimulation. He panted fervently, dizzied from his actions.

Asra slowly pulled away with a wet pop, and he too was panting with effort. He used Julian’s knees to support him as he stood up and pulled Julian’s head forward to rest it on his chest, embracing him to enjoy the brief closeness. At this proximity, Julian could smell the exotic scent of incense and spices that was unique to Asra, and it comforted him as his heart quieted down. Asra’s fingers came up to the side of Julian’s throat and his magic returned once more. The cold feeling was replaced with something warm, and his voice had been returned to him. He gratefully moaned into Asra’s chest, nuzzling his collarbone.

He wanted it to last longer, but Asra was already pulling away from the contact once he’d caught his breath, wiping his lips. He pushed Julian back, and the doctor had to catch himself or he would’ve probably fallen backward onto the desk. He stared at Asra in a daze, making Asra laugh as he ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless before.”

Julian blinked once, then shook his head to clear it. “I…we’re done?”

Asra looked incredulous. “I repaid you, didn’t I?”

Julian slid off of his desk and walked Asra back into the chair he’d kicked backward, bracing his hands on the back of it while coming mere inches from kissing Asra again. His voice was significantly heavier than it had been before they started. “Would you grant me the chance to thank you?”

He half expected Asra to say no. The magician had even looked shocked by the sudden turn that had been taken, looking up at Julian with an owlish expression. But after blinking a few times, his smile had returned and his hand tangled into Julian’s curls and tugged back to expose his throat. He ghosted his lips along the flesh, Julian swallowing in anticipation. “Do you think you deserve the chance to?”

Julian’s eyes were half-lidded, and he leaned his head in to kiss Asra’s neck instead. “Please…”

[myra-the-magician]

Happy birthday, Julian! I wrote a threesome between Asra, Julian, and MC to celebrate! You can read it here! A small piece of it is posted under the cut. Enjoy~

The door to the shop opens downstairs, and I smile, knowing there's only one person who could get through the wards I placed on the shop. They had a thing in the past, and I know Julian still wants Asra, so I may have dropped some hints that Asra could stop by to help us celebrate if he wanted.

"Do you want Asra to join us?" Julian has a wild look in his mismatched eyes as he nods to me. "Then call for him," I continue working him with my fingers, gripping his thigh with my other hand.

"Ah- Asra!" he manages to moan out, no doubt peaking the magician's attention downstairs. Julian groans louder when we hear Asra's footsteps on the stairs leading to our shared bedroom. Once Asra opens the door, Julian looks positively debauched; legs spread, my fingers buried inside him up to the second knuckle, pre-cum dripping onto his stomach, his red curls mussed at the back where I grabbed him.

[arcanaprentiss]

I dont think any of us ever recover from finding out Julian and Asra have canonically fucked. 

Asra definitely never recovered.

[waywardkoalacollective]

some uhh asrian nsfw under the cut 🖐 🍑

asra’s hair just progressively gets more ridiculous

If anyone likes a good hard spanking its Julien 100%. He does a lot of kicking but he’ll beg for it, and he’s always satisfied after. 

I went for a more cartoony style bc im lazy and i love cartoon julien

[bitcxes-n-cream]

GOOD GOD JULIAN IN C3 PLS

Hehe yessss ✨🖤

[bloodofvalyriaarchive]

i got this spicy commission from @cherrygirl666 and i am IN LOVE. thank you so so much for doing this for me :3

julian x siobhan x asra.. aka my ultimate ot3

[devoraqs]

Secret Garden 🍋

In which Asra and Julian make use of the special Masquerade Maze Nadia has installed in the gardens

@the-midsummer-masquerade day three

Pairing: Asrian

Prompts: Outdoors, bondage

Link to full art below cut

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/FV0RemVWIAAe9aZ?format=jpg&name=large

[jules-devilrak]

*MC and Asra talking about how perfect Julian's nose is*

Julian: Hey, what are ya talkin about??

Asra: umm.. Leeches?

Julian: oh cool, what about em??

Asra: ...

MC: ...

[kidlightnings]

“I could eat you right now.”

Julian shuddered. His arms moved reflexively, encircled Asra gently.

"Please."

"I'll give you the tour," Asra teased.

"Tour me to the place where I get you on one side and bed on the other.."

post-game, Asrian, fluff, banter, and choking

[asrasotherbottom]

2 for Asrian

“yeah? gonna look into my pretty eyes when you cum?”

thanks for the prompt! i think i have a Thing about asra an julian in the library so its gonna be there again also WHEW THIS GOT LONG~~L E M O N~~

————————–

Julian idly looked over at Asra curled up in his nest of pillows on the library floor. ‘To be so unburdened…’ he thought to himself. He quickly dismissed that train of thought. Asra was certainly burdened, he just had a different way of coping. Julian kept long hours awake, pouring over every last medical book, scroll, scrap of paper, and scribbled margin that he could find. Asra spent time pouring over his tomes of magical information, yes, but he couldn’t function without any time to recharge. Truthfully, whenever the reality of the world was too much, he cherished the time he spent away in his dreams. He could be with them, for as long as he’d like, before coming back to the crushing reality he was faced with. 

Asra’s eyes opened slightly, catching Julian’s stare. 

“Can I help you?” He stretched out briefly, his shirt riding up at the bottom. Julian couldn’t help but stare at Asra’s flexing muscles and the long line of his body arching upward. He flushed bright red.“No- I-,Uh-” Julian floundered for a moment before flashing a big grin. “Ah, I was just envying your ability to sleep despite the ongoing crisis.” Asra rolled his eyes. “Breaks are important Ilya. You’re going to run yourself into the ground and be no use for anyone.” His voice emphasized the last word, and a playful grin appeared on his lips. Asra’s words may have been scolding, but he knew very well how much Julian wanted to feel useful, in any way he could. Julian’s eyes lingered on Asra. “We could, erm, take a break now, if you think it’d be useful.” Asra bit his lip gently, but it was enough for Julian. Biting his own lip, he nearly falls out of his chair in haste to get to Asra.

“I guess I don’t need this anymore.” Asra slowly starts to take his shirt off, eyes locked with Julian’s. Julian starts to move forward to help, but Asra stops him. 

“Not yet, Ilya. Just…watch.” Julian can feel his hairs stand on edge from anticipation. Asra runs a hand down his smooth torso, letting a sigh escape his lips. He leans backwards into his pile of pillows, arching his back up just enough to start to slip his pants off too. Julian is kneeling on the floor at Asra’s feet, trembling with desire; he can feel his half hard cock starting to press against the fabric of his pants. Asra reclines slightly into the pillows and gently starts stroking his own cock, periodically glancing up at Julian. Asra makes a dramatic show of it. He gently rubs his own nipples with his free hand, groaning softly. Julian’s eyes don’t know where to settle. He watches Asra’s hand against his chest before noticing the fluid and enticing way that his biceps move. He bites his lip and lets out a whimper. 

“Please…” “Oh?” Asra looks over nonchalantly. “You’re still watching? Good.” Julian is fully hard by this point; he looks down and sees himself straining against his pants. He looks up and notices that Asra is also completely hard by now, which sends a shiver down his spine. “Take your clothes off Ilya.” Asra’s voice breaks Julian’s trance. Julian hurriedly strips, flinging his clothes and boots behind him, knocking books off of his desk. Julian kneels down next to Asra, waiting for his next instruction. “Yknow…I think you’re done watching.” Asra firmly grabs Julian’s shoulders and guides him to face away from him, as Julian straddles Asra’s lap. Julian lets out a loud gasp as he slides himself down onto Asra’s cock. Asra shudders in pleasure while Julian begins to rock his hips. 

Julian leans forward and braces himself on Asra’s shin. With his free hand, he starts rubbing his own hard shaft. Julian can’t help his moans of pleasure. A fleeting smile appears on Asra’s face at the sight and sounds of Julian. He keeps rhythmically rocking his hips onto Asra, when, suddenly, he feels a pair of icy hands run down his spine. Julian cries out in surprise and pleasure, arching his back toward’s Asra’s hands. Asra grabs Julian’s waist and begins thrusting into him as well, keeping pace with Julian’s own movements. As Asra thrusts faster, Julian strokes himself faster, unable to resist the pleasure. 

“Fuck…ah, I’m-” Julian’s voice falters. “I’m close too.” Asra’s voice is breathless, barely above a whisper, but in the library those words seem to echo. Asra reaches up and drags his nails down Julian’s back, knowing what it would do to him. Julian gasps, loudly. “Please, again.” Asra runs his nails down Julian’s spine once more, eliciting a louder, deeper moan. Julian bites his lip and turns his head to look at Asra, his pace still unrelenting. “You want to watch again? Going to look into my pretty eyes when you cum for me?” Those words were all it took to send them both over the edge. 

[arcan-i-help-u]

46 asrian?

46- I’m sorry

Julian whines as the clamps tighten around his nipples, pants a labored breath in an attempt to process the pain.

“Asra, please,” he chokes out, voice raw. “I didn’t–”

“Quiet.” Asra chides. He lifts a hand, strokes his thumb along Julian’s cheekbone, and uses the other to pull gently on the delicate silver chain connecting the clamps. Julian lets out a broken moan, and Asra ignores him, continuing, “You broke a rule, Ilya.”

“I’m–”

“Did i tell you to speak?”

Julian flushes, shakes his head with the shame of a scolded child. With a satisfied hum, Asra stands and moves out of view. Though he itches to follow, Julian stays kneeling as he is, arms linked obediently behind his back.

“Hands on the floor.” Asra says, trailing something smooth across his shoulder blades. Julian barely has time to obey before the first strike lands, the familiar sting of the crop urging him forwards. There’s little mercy to it, the hits come hard, and Julian clenches his jaw to avoid crying out. It takes less than ten snaps of the crop before he’s is squirming against the floor, earnest tears welling in his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” He finally cries, head bowed, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’msorryI’msorry”

[juliansleftbuttcheek]

for a (portion) of a request, “..young Ilya and asra before Shit Went Down..”

i hope you don’t mind that i incorporated an idea i’ve been wanting to do myself!! thank you for the request, i hope you like it! 🖤

_____

“Asra, c’mere! You’ll want to see this.” Julian called from the main room of the shop, and from the tone of his voice he sounded up to no good. As usual. Asra smiled to himself and got up from his seat, making his way downstairs to Julian.

“Oh yeah? Well show it to me, come on then.” Asra hummed, gliding up behind Julian and standing up on his toes to rest his chin on the redhead’s shoulder. Julian grinned proudly and stuck up a photo in front of them, and old and faded thing.

“Always wanted to find a picture of me from when I was younger. I was a fucking sight- Look at this. I would ravish this.” Julian nodded convincingly, still wearing his shit eating grin.

“Oh, wow.” Asra couldn’t help but sat when he saw the figure his lover was referring to. It surely was him, only he was about twenty years younger. The younger Julian looked almost the same, from the vibrant auburn curls to the little smile that suggested he knew something you didn’t. His skin was still snowy white, and his eyes lacked the shadows present under them today. He still looked as beautiful as ever.

Asra noticed he was standing next to (practically on top of) an older, taller man in a long white coat.

“Who’s the guy you were all over?” Asra purred teasingly into Julian’s neck, reaching for his hand so he could pull the picture closer.

Julian gave a nervous little laugh and the magician could almost feel the pale skin under his lips flush.

“I, uh, he was a doctor I met around the time I decided I wanted to study medicine myself. I, t-trained under him.” Julian floundered, despite how hard Asra could tell he was trying to maintain his composure.

“Oh, I’m sure you were under him, Ilya.” Asra smirked, placing a hand on the older man’s hip and squeezing. He chuckled when he felt his boyfriend shudder under his light touch. He and Julian had talked openly about their sex life before meeting, and the doctor seemed to look back amusedly at his more tongue-in-cheek tales from his younger days. Asra could only assume this was one of his flings.

“I mean, look at you. Weren’t you just a pretty thing?” Asra murmured, taking his lips away from Julian’s neck and looking down at the picture again. “It’s a shame I didn’t get a hold of you back then.”

Julian almost fucking choked. The blush was apparent on his cheeks when he stooped slightly to clear his throat. When attempted to turn this into a laugh, it came out as more of a nervous chuckle. His upcoming words were silenced by another kiss from Asra pressed to the side of his throat.

“I want you to go wait upstairs for me, yeah?” The younger man murmured into Julian’s skin, letting a hand slowly creep from his shoulder down to his lower back. His voice had taken on a different tone, one airy and seductive. Gently commanding. “Sit on the bed and close your eyes until I tell you to open them. Can you do that for me?” Asra asked, idly playing with the hem of his lover’s shirt while he spoke.

“Yes, I can.” Julian breathed almost immediately, eager to do anything Asra said. The magician gave a pleased smirk and plucked the photo from Julian’s grip.

“I’ll take that. Go up there and be good for me, Ilya. If you are, oh do I have a reward for you.” Not needing further instruction, the older man practically took flight up the stairs and set off to do as Asra told. Asra looked down at the photo again and smiled wickedly- he knew exactly how he was going to reward Julian.

——

Julian was so deep in thought that he almost didn’t hear the clunky footfall coming up the stairs. He’d been sitting on Asra’s bed waiting patiently for almost half an hour, every minute spent in silence only making him more anxious to see what Asra had planned. Julian’s breath caught when the door opened and Asra stepped in. Asra didn’t say a word as he walked towards him, just brought a gloved hand to Julian’s cheek and slid into his lap. Wait- why did Asra put on gloves? The thought was pushed from his mind when his lover eased him back down on the bed.

“You were so good for me, why don’t you open your eyes, angel?” Asra purred, but it wasn’t- Asra’s voice. Julian hesitated for a moment but did as he was told and opened his eyes to meet Asra’s. Except Julian wasn’t looking into the enchanting lavender he’d grown to adore, he was met with cool grey eyes that reminded him of his own. Wait.. they were his own.

Julian was looking at himself. His own 20 year old form was straddling his lap and giving him the filthiest bedroom eyes he’d ever seen. No fucking way..

“A-Asra..?” Julian breathed, bringing a hand up to touch his younger self’s face. Asra only grinned in response and looked his lover up and down.

“Now- you said you’d do what to me, Doctor..?”

[thunderheadfred]

æther

so, uhhh.... A) I have no idea if this ficlet will end up in the final chaptered version of Mirror, Mirror or if it’s doomed to be a permanent headcanon and B) I spent too much time to just let this sit in my WIP files for however long it takes to finish this monster of a fic because my brain is a shrivelled little acorn that requires constant validation

pairing: Asra x Julian (plague-era, post-Lazaret, AU-flavored) length: 3,750 words rating: explicit. bitter. citrus.  warnings: gore, plague-related horror, trauma, unresolved angst, emotional constipation, gothic narrator syndrome, a 200-coin paid Asrian bath scene

...well. here goes nothin’...

It might be two in the morning. 

Something about the tightness of my chest, the irregular, lumpy beating of my heart… tells me the night must be wearing thin. There is no other earthly way to divine the hour. No light penetrates the dungeons, and Valdemar seems to loathe timepieces; I have yet to find a single clock squirreled away in this bottomless hellhole they call a laboratory. What good would time do us, anyway? Other than to mark the endless stream of anonymous deaths, one tick after another…

tick… tick… tick…

Something drips onto my notes, running ink all over the place, ruining whatever half-lucid thought I’d been in the middle of. Useless anyway. I’m getting nowhere. I throw down my quill and drop my face into my hands. Crying does not feel good, or even bad. Like everything else in this place, it is simply draining, inevitable. Often, I seem to leak unwittingly, my body going through motions my mind has become too numb to sense.

I should sleep. I should. But the thought of that cramped bunk, at least half a foot too short, crammed against the molding, always-damp wall… It makes more sense to rot where I sit.

Outside, someone moans hoarsely. My hands turn to fists in my hair. No… not again...

Valdemar and their retinue of nameless numbered assistants have retired for the evening, leaving half a dozen “experiments” in mostly-inert pieces on various slabs to chill overnight. One of those unfortunate souls is coming back around, and it’ll only be seconds until they feel the extent of the horrors that were inflicted… Hands moving to either side of the desk, I brace myself.

Nothing prepares me. Young. Too young. Her voice, even in agony, sounds just like… I’m up and out the door before I know what I’m doing.

I lunge for her: the one writhing body amidst a pile of dissected remains. One look at her puts a clamp over the bleed in my heart: not a red hair in sight. She’s too tall, too dark, too anonymous to be my sister. But all the same, she is suddenly every bit as dear to me.

I take one of her hands, stilling her grasping, spasmodic fingers. My other hand takes up the cleanest rag I can find and mops sweat and muck from her forehead, a flimsy excuse to comfort. She’s too far gone already; all I can hope to do is ease this wretched passing. In shock, the body can act out a series of stirring autonomic reactions… or so Valdemar claims.

My tears fall freely now, because I’m still not dead enough to know better.

This girl should have died hours ago. Days ago. Should have died at home in her bed, tragically, yes… but whole. Not like this. But what Valdemar never understands—refuses to understand—is that people don’t die clean, on a schedule. It’s startling how many of these abandoned experiments wake up hours after they’ve been declared hopeless… and still go out screaming. In my own twisted way, I suppose I find their tenacity inspiring. The girl beneath me wails incomprehensibly, but I know exactly why, and I tighten my hold.

End it.

The pain of being left here, the fury of being abandoned, the indignity of being cut open for beetles and maggots and the curious field notes of a demon.

End it.

She writhes and foams and her ferocious red eyes track my every movement. Obeying her wordless commands, I grab the precious vial of contraband æther from my pocket. Keeping a firm hold on her hand, I depress the trick top of the vial and tip a few potent drops onto a rag, pocketing the bottle as quickly and secretively as I produced it.

Blackbreath Æther: the reaper’s kiss. A single whiff of the fumes is enough to dull the most extraordinary pain, and any more than that, well… Even at a distance, I can feel my own head swimming. Carefully, I hold my breath and bring the cloth to cover her nose and mouth. The æther smells warm and earthy, like fresh-tilled dirt, and the girl gulps down her own inevitable darkness, her shrieks of agony transmuted into the deepest, sweetest sighs…

Through the hole Valdemar left gaping and raw, I can see the girl’s healthy pink lungs expanding with the last breaths she’ll ever take. And just like that… she goes still, her face slackening. The way her pupils blow wide as they stare at me, gazing through me, seeing nothing and everything… fills me with hideous peace.

The silence she leaves behind knocks me off balance. Clinging to her lifeless hand, I stumble into the nearest stool, landing so hard I bruise the length of my thigh. The pain is welcome: at last, a feeling. It wakes me somewhat, and I realize that head to foot, I’m shaking.

Behind me, the door to my office creaks.

I leap from my own skin, wild with terror. No one else should be down here. The lift hasn’t returned, I would have heard it, I would have known... I can’t be that far gone…

I grab the closest, sharpest thing I can find, slashing a broken bone saw through the air. When I turn on my heel… I see Asra gaping at me, hands held up in surrender.

Inexplicably, the magician is emerging from my office. He looks coiffed and groomed, every bit the pampered palace pet he so skillfully plays at… but the moment our eyes meet, his façade flickers, words dying on his lips.

I swallow heavily, realizing I’m still clinging to the girl’s hand. “You don’t belong here,” I spit, unable to force the hostility from my voice.

As far as I know, Asra has never visited the dungeons before. He’s never so much as asked what work is done in this ever-worsening dark. No, he’s always dancing around the subject of the Plague. Always running back to his shop, or his “realms” or his god-forsaken dreams. Always pretending Vesuvia might wake up from this whole charade some day, like it was all just a terrible Masquerade-weekend hallucination.

Why should he open his eyes now? Why even bother? No one can wave a hand and vanish the apocalypse.

“Get out.” Suddenly infuriated, I brandish the bone saw in his direction, flinging at him all the bits of gore Valdemar left so carelessly behind, hoping the gesture looks as horrible as it feels.

“Blackbreath…” he whispers, voice gone ragged. “That’s why you wanted it…”

Funny. At the time, he hadn’t bothered to ask why I would beg for a vial of something so deadly, so forbidden. He’d just handed it over without so much as a ‘do not imbibe’, as if he’d give me anything I wanted… as long as I pleaded wantonly enough… as long as I spent enough time bloodying my knees for his amusement.

My stomach turns. “Thought I wanted to off myself, is that it? And you just handed it over anyway, you absolute bastard.”

Slowly, reverently, I tuck the dead girl’s hand neatly against her side… and then throw the bone saw onto a steel tray full of tools. The broken blade lands with a dull clang and a satisfying explosion of scalpels and clamps.

“You don’t know anything, do you?” I hiss, revolted by the deepening permanence of my own snarl. “What kind of magician has never sawed a person in half?”

His turns as if to leave—but how? Through my office?—and stops himself, eyes falling to the floor. He stands there silently, shoulders slumped in a noncommittal gesture: half dismissal, half acknowledgement. For a brief moment, Asra allows the expression on his face to play out naturally, a whirlwind of confusion and pain.

Good.

He holds out his hand, and my sneer falters.

I don’t move, but the mind-reading devil always seems to know what I’m thinking. His face softens into true pity and my intestines knot together.

Part of me wants to trust those watery, delicate eyes… and part of me will always be wary of snakes. As he waits for my answer, his unguarded gaze slides behind me, darting across the pile of nameless bodies. I don’t even have a shroud to cover them.

He seems unable or unwilling to hide his terror; I’ve only seen him look so lost once before. That horrible beach in the shadow of the Lazaret, where everything came apart, never to be put back together again… As if I’d spoken aloud, his jaw sets and his eyes snap back to mine. Witch.

I expect him to turn tail and run, but his hand stretches for me with redoubled insistence.

Well. He’ll never say ‘please.’ I know that.

I wish I had something else to throw at him, but I’m all that remains. Huffing out a breath, I step down from the stage and clap our hands together so hard that my palm stings. Asra doesn’t flinch, but tightens his mouth as if under better circumstances, he might owe me a smile.

He gently leads me into my office, the last place I want to be with him, with anyone. I open my mouth to protest, but in two steps he crosses the room and presses his pristine hand against the far wall. A sigil of light pulses beneath his palm, resonating with magic. Solid brick shimmers like water, opening into a portal, and he looks back at me, waiting.

I’ve seen other such passages hidden throughout the palace, but never trusted one enough to walk through it. I want to ask how long that secret escape has been there, how long he’s been waiting to taunt me with it. I have a feeling he wouldn’t answer honestly anyway, so I keep my mouth shut and square my shoulders, allowing him to pull me through.

As the portal envelops us, Asra feels so close he might as well be a part of me, as if the universe has folded us together inside a bolt of loose silk. A heartless drop, then we step unharmed into a room so bright I have to squint and cover my eyes.

He pulls me deeper into the blinding light, until carpet gives way to tile and the melodic trickle of flowing water. His guest chambers, his bath. Dimly, I realize he’s speaking to me.

“…here. You’re freezing.” He drops my hand and begins to gently lift my shirt. I flinch. He stills, but does not let go. If anything, he takes a surer grip. “Let me help,” he whispers.

My eyes finally adjust, and the room comes into focus. I didn’t realize he was standing so close… as he looks up at me, his perfumed hair tickles my chin, and his eyes seem to get caught on my mouth. I feel my breath quickening as the last shreds of equilibrium crumble out from under us.

“What do you want from me?” I didn’t mean to grunt that so pathetically. Didn’t mean to say it at all; and maybe I didn’t. Maybe he’s just in my head again. Always.

His brow crumples; his eyes glisten. “I… Nothing…”

We’re a hair’s breadth from it now, but this is as close as we’ll ever get to our apologies. We have too much to be sorry for, too many losses, too much yet to lose. Never mind the words. All this steam and closeness, he’s making it hard to even breathe. This shouldn’t be complicated. My chest hurts.

I can’t…

The first sob cracks me open like the chink in a dam, and it’s already too late. I can’t stop it. I fold over his shoulder, clinging to him, burying my face in his shield of silken scarves. Just being near him… too much. Warm and bright and blinding, like something that fell from the sky and left me smoldering in a crater of blackened glass. A dangerous star to wish upon.

He stands still and lets me weep on him. Seconds, hours, I don’t know. I don’t know. He lets me empty out.

When my eyes clear again, I see that I’ve stained one of the patterned scarves on his shoulder. A new one. A gift.

“Was that expensive?” I mumble, stupidly.

He jumps as if I’ve startled him from a dream. “What?”

I try to explain, but he pulls my shirt over my head, muffling my nonsense before it can begin. Warm hands skitter over me, and I watch, dumbstruck, as he traces countless bruises I didn’t even know were there. I shiver, finally feeling the cold of my own skin under this new and burning touch.

Healing magic moves up my chest, my neck, leaving tingling warmth in its wake. Slowly, he cups my face in his hands and forces me to meet his eyes. I feel my mind churning, and wonder if this tilting feeling is magical too… or a symptom of mutual insanity. With his fingers covering my ears, all my terror seems to ebb, all the kicking and screaming misery of the past few months reduced to the pulsing white noise of a tide. The muffling calm of deep water slips over my head… pulling me toward him… just him…

I want him so badly it hurts, but I know if I close the distance now, I’ll make a fool of myself. So I root down, standing there, waiting. Trying not to care what happens next.

He grabs the waist of my trousers. Like all of him, his hands are small but surprisingly strong. His swift, certain movements jerk me to and fro, and by the time he’s loosened my belt and unbuttoned my front, I’m rigid with need.

His eyes pass over my arousal. “Get in the bath.”

I struggle with the fastenings on my boots, distracted by the sight of him removing his own clothes and slipping gracefully into the water, like he belongs there.

The water feels painfully warm, but I force myself to submerge to the chest. I’ve gotten so accustomed to the cold, so numbed by it, that here in tepid bathwater, I feel like bones boiling in a pot, all pink marrow and jelly.

The water must be enchanted. The dirt sloughs from me in grimy clouds and then vanishes as if it never existed, just like the bruises. Too comfortable, too easy, like this is only a dream or another frivolous, expensive illusion.

Asra floats nearby, glittering and feral, watching his magic take hold, his spell forcing me into human form. Gulping, I dip my head back to wet my hair and face, scrubbing hard. My scalp burns, every inch of me burns, but I feel… I feel…

I should say it, I should tell him, but what? I don’t know. Too much. What name could I give this thing that’s been eating us both, whittling us down to salt and gnashing teeth, leaving only a bitter taste?

Just as I feel my heart tightening with panic, Asra’s hand slides over my chest. He waits for my pulse to slow, or quicken, or simply obey, then he moves up my neck, behind my head. He pulls me up by the root and all of my traitorous body throbs at that touch. The sight of him, too, is equally bewitching. Heavy wet curls falling over hooded eyes, lips moist and soft.

He’s leaning in, pressing his open mouth to my cheek, hot breath melting the path of my tears. When he pulls away, he looks feverish, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip, tasting.

Oh, Asra. That’s too much…

His eyes flash. Did I say that out loud? I don’t know. I can’t think. My head is moving back and forth—yes, no, yes—my mouth opens but my words are swallowed by the thickening steam. Asra’s lips graze over mine once… twice… again… again…

Who made that noise? I don’t know. We both vibrate, and I’m done for, my hands are on him, my mouth locks over his, the heat of his skin burning through my palms. I’m breathing too heavily, his teeth are too sharp. His kiss plucks my nerves and cuts my tongue, but I need more. This is all there is.

My back meets the edge of the pool with a painful thump, and our mouths break apart with a clack of teeth.

Asra pushes at my hips, urging me out of the bath even as he bends to lick water from my neck. Between breathless sweeps of tongue, he barely gets out one word: “…Bed.”

It rings like a command, but as I’m stumbling toward our mutual goal, I realize that it might have been a question. I trip horizontal and pull him along for the ride, our knees banging together. A lingering pause as he pushes up onto his elbows and looks down at me, his eyes wide, his chest heaving, water dripping from his face to mine.

I try to swallow, licking my lips. “Maybe…”

The thought dies as his hand closes around my cock. He watches my face, giving me a chance to stop this… but I can’t, I won’t. I pull him down and invite his ragged breath into my mouth, let him bite and steal and consume. He tightens his hand and pumps me to full hardness, his kiss deepening as he scrapes my lips with his teeth. The only indication of his own arousal is the ragged sound of his breath, the low moans he tries to mask against my tongue. Knowing that I have any effect on him at all… even this meagre sampling… I writhe greedily and Asra drags his mouth away. As if to distract himself, he tongues the sharp bend of my jaw and opens his mouth, bares his teeth… then stops, breathing deep.  

No, no… he can’t quit now. At least one of us isn’t above begging; I turn my head and offer him my neck.

Asra looks at me with darkening eyes. He’s breathing hard, his face strangely tight. “Julian… I… I want to hurt you.”

I laugh on reflex, dizzy with light-headed relief. Knowing how desperate I must look, I surge my cock against his idle hand and croak out: “That makes two of us.”

The shift is immediate. Just like that, he becomes ravenously, furiously alive. His teasing hand tightens around my cock, and with a slap of fervor, his other hand meets my throat. He tightens both hands until I’m gasping.

He straddles my waist and hovers over me, his mouth wide open and inches from my own. Eyes aflame, he devours every scrap of desperate air… and just as my lungs start to burn, he releases the pressure and grants me one gulp of relief before sealing his mouth over mine, choking me with his searing tongue.

Electrified, I reach for him, my hands roving up his well-shaped thighs, squeezing greedily over his muscled rear. I feel him roll with a fleeting show of pleasure… before he yanks my hands away and throws my arms to the mattress.

Forget shame, I whine and fist my hands into the sheets. I hold on as he scrapes his teeth down my neck, bites my collarbones, stutters his chin down the heaving, bony column of my sternum…. and eases his thigh between my legs. Using both sets of nails to draw angry red lines over my ribs, he bites my nipple hard enough to bruise. I squeak as he laves the wound with his tongue, soothing just long enough so that when he bites again, the pain sings through me even more sharply.

Keening low and long, I shamelessly thrust against his thigh. Just as I’m edging close, he pulls away, extracting his leg with a cruel bump of  his kneecap. I open my eyes, bleary and confused, as his dark chuckle roils in my blood. I see the sweetened plum of his grin rising over my groin and he pulls my hands into his damp ringlets.

“Hold on tight.”

There’s no further warning. His soft lips slide down around me, his luscious, infuriating mouth swallowing my cock as his otherworldly eyes stare up with the confidence of the damned, daring me to breathe. An unholy sight, one I’ve dreamed of all too often, and the sound I make is anything but human.  

He laughs, his tongue pulsing, his teeth scraping just enough to keep me from shoving all the way to the back of his throat. He works me expertly, easily reading my moans, setting a confident rhythm. My eyes roll back as the room spins. I cling to his hair and match his movements: thrusting and fucking his mouth as he bobs up and down. Every few strokes he scrapes me with his teeth, threatening to bite, savoring my yelps. He seems to know exactly how much I can take until my toes curl with pain… then he opens his mouth and slathers me with a cooling dose of lewd, loud, whorish spit. There’s barely enough relief to breathe… then he starts the torture all over again until I’m cursing, begging, speaking in tongues.

I try not to think about how he might have gotten so very, very good at this… but it’s impossible to resist imagining a barrage of possibilities. Asra choking on a thousand healthy cocks, cum sliding down his throat… Asra buried between countless sticky thighs, his face drowning in mystical, hallucinatory pussy, his eyes iridescent with a rainbow of shifting, seething pleasures…

…the world tilts around those lips, spinning on that magic tongue. I’m upside-down… look at this maze, we’ll never get out… she throws her head back and moans so loud that anybody might hear… her loose curls trail into the fountain, bobbing with pleasure… she’s grown her her hair long in the Prakran style and trussed it with tiny moonblossoms… dressed like a silver moth, her skirt pulled up, her leg thrown over his narrow, muscled shoulder... oh, yes… you two are so beautiful like this… both of you… Asra, Emry, my darlings… her hips roll as she cries out his name, clings to his hair, rocks into his eager face… his tongue lavishes her to oblivion, drinking her, worshipping her, fingers pumping into her until she sparks and ignites, lost to the flames…

Asra jerks away, staring at me like a man about to die.