#punished valdemar fandom

[greyspirehollow]

Chains

Pairing : Quaestor Valdemar x Liam (mc oc) ; platonic Fandom : The Arcana visual novel Warnings : angst ; hurt/comfort (still not good at warning tags grgrg)

Summary : Reverse ending ; Thinking they have betrayed him by aiding Liam becoming the new Patron Arcana of Death, the Devil punishes Valdemar (nothing related to assault, don't worry). But this cruel treatment will not go unnoticed...

The room was dark. The only source of light was the faint red glow of the chains that bound the Quaestor kneeling to the floor. The air was filled with the scent of burnt papers and parchments. They could still feel the trace of the quiet tears they'd shed when the Devil left, despite keeping their face as expressionless as possible. They were pretty sure they had bruises, and the tip of their right horn threatened to fall off at any moment because of how they'd struggled against their binds. They knew their labcoat was scratched, and that their bandages were loose. They could feel strands of hair tickle the skin of their cheeks. This... was simply cruel. Unjustified. After their centuries, their millenias of loyal services, how could the Devil possibly treat them like this?? They hadn't crossed any lines, not in the terms of their deal at least... So why? Their gaze remained on the floor as they let their thoughts consume them. What else could they possibly be doing? Struggle against the chains some more? To what end? They wouldn't yield.

But their train of thoughts was interrupted by the distant muffle of voices...

______________________________________________________________

In the corridors, some of Death's troupes looked around the rooms, opening every door they could, seemingly searching for something. Or someone. The skeletons were quick and efficient as Death advanced slowly, surveilling the operation. His cape flowed softly with each step he took. The skeletal soldier's search was fruitless so far, but it was also interrupted by a red figure down the hall. "...Vulgora." Death muttered, similarly to a greeting. Probably posted there to guard the halls, the Pontifex yielded a double bit great axe. But their expression lacked the usual bloodthirst and thrill of battle. As if... They didn't want to fight. Death was skeptical ; they'd always loved fighting. But he didn't have time to reflect upon that much : they charged at his soldiers, determined, and made the bones cackle and fall to the ground each time they'd seem them rebuild themselves. Death marched towards them, and drew their sword. He did well, because the Pontifex charged at him next. He blocked their attack, momentarily face to face with them. "They're on the second floor" if it could've conveyed confusion, Death's skeletal face would've upon hearing Vulgora's words. "The last door to the left." They sounded... worried. Death nodded and pushed them off, letting them pretend to fight off part of his troupes and taking only three soldiers with him as they rushed upstairs. He heard the Pontifex pretend to chase after them, and give up once he was halfway up the stairs. He climbed the marches one after the other.

______________________________________________________________

The sounds and muffled voices grew closer. Valdemar couldn't make out the words being said -what was the point, anyway?- but could only distinguish the clinking of metal on the floor. The steps grew closer.

"General ! They're in here !"

what...?

The door was pound against, exactly five times, before it fell off its hinges, hitting the floor with a loud thud and blowing an air current that made them squint their eyes, in addition to the sudden pool of light red light pouring from outside the dark room. They caught the glimpse of four silhouettes, three human sized ones and another, more imposing, standing in the center. The three smaller frames returned into the corridor, and seemed to go keep an eye on the surrounding area, the light they basked in revealing skeletons in armor. The Quaestor's gaze then landed on the fourth shadow : it slowly started approaching. On the floor, it noticed the carcasses of journals, books, files and parchments. And a copious amount of them, too... Two little green lights served as eyes to them, and Vlademar recognized those. Their teeth greeted together, but they couldn't find anything to tell him. Liam. The reason they were in this mess in the first place... That foolish necromancer, taking the place of the thirteenth major Arcana... They briefly looked back at the ground, but their head instantly snapped back up as they saw him crouch down beside a burnt book, about to touch the crispy pitch black pages. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF THAT!!" They shouted, instinctively getting up on their feet, only to be dragged back down by the red chains, drawing a pained grunt out of them. Their shoulders hunched slightly. Liam's hand immobilized in the air and he looked at them. They briefly wished they could still read his expression in this moment... "...Your research." he simply commented. They knew he was right. He got up, and slowly walked towards them. Their gaze was suddenly drawn to his sword, as it morphed into a scythe in his hand. They looked up right at those greenish lights he had for eyes now, their gaze unwavering. Death towered over them... They looked at him grip the weapon with both hands and raise it above his skull. He was going to do it, wasn't he? They weren't even mad. They found themselves... Strangely determined. Fine. After all, maybe it was the greatest service he could make them in th-

SHCLANK.

THUD.

....

....

..

The chains...

He'd aimed for the chains. Eyes wide, they looked at one of the metallic binds that was snapped in two by the scythe, and had fallen to the ground. Liam then snapped the other one.

SHCLANK.

THUD.

They felt the remaining ones around their body loosen, setting their upper body free. They looked at their shaky hands, and then back up at Liam.. Confused. He'd crouched down to their level. Despite the lack of... basically anything that could convey emotions on his face, they felt no ill will or threatening aura coming from him. As if... He wanted... to help...

"Do you think you can walk?"

The lich's raspy and otherworldly voice asked. "How can I possibly trust you?" was their immediate response, which they briefly regretted. Liam didn't seem fazed however. Even... Understanding. He removed the glove of his right hand, exposing his bones to the dark room's air, and reached for one of the burnt books that laid at their feet. They were about to protest again, gripping his wrist to yank it away from the fragile paper, but as soon as one of his bony digits made contact with it, it's as if the book was reborn. The pages found their normal consistency, and their handwriting appeared through the book again. Their jaw hung slack in a mix of confusion and bewilderment. "I thought... Y-you said it didn't work with..." they looked back at his orbits, inhabited by those two green lights, their gaze unable to hide their emotion. "This is... One of Death's tricks. A very brief reversal of time. It only works on objects..." He replied, as he got up and removed his other glove, going around and picking one by one the journals, the files and parchments, each seemingly coming back to life as he touched them. Valdemar was stuck in shock, still on their knees on the floor, the overwhelming amount of emotions swarming them without a single warning. He... He had to have ulterior motives. It couldn't be out of... kindness. Their brows furrowed "What do you want?? wh-why are you doing this?!" as they got back up on their feet, their hands slightly shaky. Liam looked back at them "...Do I need a reason to help a friend?"

...

Friend...? "You mean... Fiend." "I mean... Friend." Shock appeared on their features once more. Death took a slight breath and spoke up again : "But if it is easier for you, consider this a thank you for helping me get where I am now. A... Payback, if you will." he paused, turning around to face them "But the truth is, I only wish to help." The Quaestor stood there, dumbfounded, their brows knitted together due to... Whatever emotion they were currently feeling. They observed as Liam went around the room, picking up each and every single document that the Devil had previously burnt right before their eyes. They watched as he carefully arranged it all in a pile, then a mount as more and more documents were added. They took a few steps forward, their shaky hand reaching for one of the journals, flipping through the pages, then reaching for another one, and another, and another... Tears welled up in their eyes as they held at least a dozen against their chest, crumbling back to their knees and hunching protectively over them, as if they'd vanish if they let go. Their researches... Their life's work, their reason to live... Nearly wiped out like a speck of dust. They couldn't help the tears. Yes, they could muffle their sobs, and yes, they could hide their face against the pile of journals, but they couldn't stop the subtle shaking of their shoulders... Nor the bony hand that gently settled on their back and started caressing it soothingly, Liam crouching beside them.

______________________________________________________________

After a while of such deep and sudden emotions, Death stood back up, ordering his three soldiers to fetch the others, so all of them could carry the mount of documents out of this place. Valdemar took with them as much as they could, their legs slightly wobbly from the whole ordeal, as they, Death, and the soldiers hurried downstairs. They left the damned halls of the Devil's palace, and at the entrance, the Quaestor's eyes widened as they laid upon a familiar centaur-like figure. The horse skull turned to look at them "well, would you look at that! Quaestor Valdemar, in the flesh. It's been a while" Death. Their throat tightened and they looked at the ground in shame. This... All of this was starting to become a little too much. "Cut them some slack" Liam spoke softly, patting Death's flank. "I'm going to need you to carry them home. The Devil's not been kind with them..." Death nodded, although slightly bitter, lowering themselves so Valdemar could mount them, while the lich walked on foot. The Quaestor desperately clung to the journals in their arms, and as the gentle rocking motion of Death's pace nudged them, they felt exhaustion start to close onto them, despite their best attempt to keep their eyes open and surveil the soldiers which carried the rest of their researches.

______________________________________________________________

They woke up in what looked like a cottage, resting on a couch, with a thick blanket over them and a plush pillow under their head. They blinked awake, looking around, noticing Liam sitting at a table. The lich was studying what looked like maps ; there was a warm fire going in the fireplace. Their eyes lingered on the flames for a while before returning to Liam. They observed his skeletal hands carefully holding the paper, before their red eyes looked out the window, into the snowy forest around. The sight felt much less dreadful than they remember. The soft creaking of Liam's chair drew their attention. "Ah, you're awake. How do you feel?" It was... paradoxal to have Death sound so soothing... Or maybe it wasn't. "...Better." Warm. "That is great to hear." he put the map down on the wooden table, getting up to reach for a set of keys and picked two from it. He then walked over to Valdemar and gently placed the keys in their hand. "It's to access a small shed I have built nearby. I've made it so your research could be stored there, in Death's realm." yet another emotional blow for Valdemar. But of gratitude, this time. They closed their eyes and let out a soft sigh to keep their composure. "...Thank you." Liam nodded. "It's my pleasure." He was about to return to his table when Valdemar gripped his sleeve. He turned around. They'd stood up ; they seemed to be contemplating something. Their eyes briefly scanned Liam up and down, before they gulped and extended their arms, before wrapping them around him, in a clumsy hug. A warm feeling spread in the lich's chest as he embraced their smaller frame back.

Valdemar could've never guessed Death's embrace could ever be this soft and welcoming.

[nicadilly]

what are your opinions on the other courtiers? (esp volta)

Omg thank you for the ask, ill do my best nons. Some of these come easier than others, and im fully aware my takes might be weird/unpopular but as long as im having a blast i think its fine. And im just riffing btw, not following any specific format:

Volta

She celebrates not getting kicked or pushed by anyone... I feel like that's pretty telling of her being a very punished/tragic character. But she also disrespects Vulgora and fights them back, so she can’t be completely helpless. I personally adore the idea of Volta being like a mongoose - will destroy you given the chance (literally. Super potent digestive juices? corrosive saliva? Teeth that never seem to end when you look into her mouth? All checked in my book. I'm thinking Pennywise's mouth from “IT” remakes or a sea turtle's mouth)

And YEAH she could mess up Valdemar, controversial opinion ik. They just get sucked in like spaghetti and DIE knowing the “weakest” of the demons was a herald of their demise >:)

Vlastomil

Basically always snooty and prone to blaming others for everything wrong in his life. Even when he’s hyping about the study of invertebrates, he manages to shade you and be patronizing... At the same time though, he is very zesty. Fun conversation partner and the best associate if you manage to get in his good graces. I also hc him to have ambiguous genitalia, and YES if you cut him in half there will be two Vlastomils :) just like earthworms. Overall a lot of cool wormy features that people pick up on overtime. I feel like some will disagree but I always saw him as a “chaotic neutral” kind of char. Should be evil, yes. But he’s just too fun and lovable imo. Like a snarky professor you weirdly like and respect. He’s also a bottom on a mission. Get it peepaw.

Vulgora

DEVS. DID. VULGORA. DIRTY. And I, for one, love it. No matter how you look at their patron arcana - Vulgora is fucked. If it was always their patron, I don't blame them for making a pact with the devil. Trying to avoid great pain, upheaval and loss seems natural. They are the courtier I would want to get lore on THE MOST. I want to know how their life was before “the demoning” sooo bad. As for their disposition - fun. Frenemies with Lucio, threatens Valdemar, doesn't realize they’re always screaming... just a fun little dude (gnc). I mentioned before that I defo see them doing public beheadings, ancient rome style (they’re the leader of the guard, a high ranking noble... they probably are doing it and its legal). As I said. Fun.

Also they hold the highest score in the game of “push Volta off the stairs”. Valdemar comes in 2nd.

Valerius

I honestly don't feel like I can do Val justice. That's all on @c0nsul-valerius. I will try tho! He’s always been torn between actually wanting to do good and upholding his own reputation/pride no matter the cost. The moment his rep is on the line, everything gets sidelined; relationships, acquaintances, morals. It’s delicious how he’s fleshed out in Nadia's route, just that one encounter, seeing how warped and disgusting he became, how ashamed of it all he is - i really want to see that vulnerability again, get to “crack him open” in a way and see how he would be when there's no obligations, work, or masks being put on for the public.

Valdemar

I have... too many hc’s and theories. I would love to overshare in the future! For this post though I'll try to keep it brief. I think people give Valdemar TOO MUCH CREDIT. An amnesiac apprentice, fresh out of the nest manages to kick their pathetic concave ass time and again. And while the apprentice is made to be OP in game, one would think an ancient demon, capable of raising cities, fallen armies and planning to challenge the devil would easily handle an inexperienced magician (and a redhead armed with a chair) but instead they always abscond. Sure, it could be them just going “LOL” and running off to irk people, but Lucio and Julian routes show them to be rattled by getting SLIGHTLY CHAFED. WIMPDEMAR REAL, DESERVES TO BE JOSTLED. They are on the spectrum and mask it so-so, loves a good stimmy. ALSO - MASSIVE HYPOCHONDRIAC, even tho they cant really get sick anymore. Obsessed with disinfecting everything and everyone.

[nn-ee-zz]

Hello! I absolutely adore your art! All your pieces are so wonderful. You’re hands down one of my favorite artists ever. May i know what fandoms are you into? Have a lovely day!

An opportunity to talk about my interests? Don't mind if I do! Thank you! I hope I don't disapoint and still remain one of your favorite artists after this

I assume fandom as in spaces online what I participate in or visit, because there are many things that I enjoy but whose fandoms I don't interact with. That specially applies to music. My social battery can only last so long.

Anime/Manga

Despite how my art looks like, I’m very drawn to shows that are colorful, endearing, and dynamic. I want fluff, friendship, sparkles, no major world-altering conflict, just overall characters having a good time and creating impactful relationships amongst each other. I love wholesome happy endings, which is great for my soft heart. I know JJBA doesnt fit that category but it’s outlandish enough to make it a lot of fun. I have a soft spot for Vento Aureo in particular.

Now, I open an exception for Junji Ito. I love inhuman horror, where the threat can't be understood nor controlled. Amazing artstyle aswell.

Books

Dostoievski, Bulgakov, Tchekov

Rip dostoievski, you would have loved Mob Psycho 100. I feel like he would really appreciate a story centered around a character discovering themselves and how to approach their own feelings and the world and people that surround him. I know russian literature has a reputation of being heavy to intrepret and digest. It tackles complicated themes, yes. However, it does that in relatable, heartfelt, and oftentimes comedic way.

On a personal note, some works will be especially funny if you’re queer. As a queer person myself I intrepret A LOT of russian lit characters as being gay, messy, and unhinged. I say that as the highest of compliments. The people in the fandoms I'm in also agree

Dostoiesvki; Crime and Punishment, The Brothers Karamazov, The Idiot. Sad, unhinged men, powerful beautiful women, crimes.

Bulgakov; Master and Margarita!!! Bisexual criminals hanging out with the devil

Tchekov: Short stories, I especially love Ward Nº 6.

Games

I have no shame in admitting I want easy to play games. I already challenge myself with art daily, I don’t care about challenging myself in hobbies.

So I like a lot of visual novel/dating sims. I really liked The Arcana. My fave is, unfortunately, Lucio. I love mess! Love his looks and his horrible little attitude. I want a Valdemar tale. Currently, I’m also up to date with Last Legacy from the fictif app. I started Felix’s route (same with Julian from The Arcana, I went for the edgy emo one) but ended up picking Sage as a favorite. Like I said, I love mess! am currently waiting for a rime route idc if he tried to murder me

I really like Outlast as well, and have watched many, many playthroughs. Of both games. I've read the comics. Currently dormant in that fandom, but I am waiting for the new game to come out.

Youtube

I love fun and I love informative. If it's both, then it's for me. I might binge watch something from time to time, but the ones above are people whose content I've been coming back to for years.

Unhhh-Can't describe it but I love it and rewatch it often. Everyone who is a fan of Unhh is a friend of mine

Ask a Moritician-Caitlin Doughty! I'm always up do date with her channel, and I have bought all of her books. Her fandom is The Order of the Good Death basically jhdkjhaskj

Buzzfeed Unsolved- I've only recently started watching, yes, I know it ended. I'm having a lot of fun tho

Puppet History- A project with Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara, but without buzzfeed. I love history, I love puppets, I love songs.

How to Cook That- Ann Reardon my beloved! She debunks hacks, shows how to actually make them work, saves cakes, makes gorgeous food. Very clever, very wholesome (i stan dave). I also never miss a video

Jaboody Show- Not quite youtubers. They often upload their twitch streams on youtube. I don't watch them all tho. I always think 'i'll just watch 30 min of this 6 hour video' and end up watching the whole thing because they're so fun. Great to listen while working

Utsu-P - Not a youtuber, but a musician. A vocaloid producer, to be exact. Also never miss an upload. Moksha is my fave album and Unique is at close second.

Music

Speaking of Unhhh, I love the music Trixie Mattel (Brian Firkus) puts out. Yellow Cloud, and Gold always make me happy I’m alive. I don't belong to any fandom, however. I don’t stay inside genres either, I go after music for the emotions they bring in me. I spent the last few days listening to Crazier by Taylor Swift, the song she performed in the Hannah Montana movie shdjksahdjk. Some weeks prior it was Baba Yaga by Slaughter to Prevail. I have clear memories of listening to the Cheetah Girls while doing character design, too. Sometimes I listen to 20 minute videos that have snippets of a bunch of pop music from a certain year, when I need to keep up the energy. I'm the type that loves a band but doesn't even know the main singer's name. Which is great, cuz music fandoms look WILD. I'm peacefully enjoying things.

What a very long post! But this is basically it. Also shout out to 90 Day Fiance, that I keep up with because I always watch it with my mom. It's our thing. I'm in that fandom aswell cuz I love the chaos and telling my mom gossip.

Thank you for asking and for those who have read this far!

[kidlightnings]

kinktober 2020 masterpost

with thanks to @arcanakt​ for coming up with the list, and the support of everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, and held my shaky little hand through the nights of uncertainty

| notes ► “attempted ssc” refers to noe making good faith attempts at verifying lucio’s wellbeing despite not being a trained dom ► “explicitly ssc” refers to active check-ins happening during stressful moments ► sex pollen is always a tricky trope, use your best judgment, it is set in the context of a well-established and trusting, loving relationship, but does involve the expected altered mental state

01 | temperature magic | collars | ass worship ky/nadia - sometimes you get lost in the sauce of eating your wife’s ass and she chokes you a little about it additional tags: erotic asphyxiation, smothering, rimming

02 | costumes | group sex | bratty submission ky/nadia/asra - is it a costume if it’s just another person wearing your wife’s face? the magical way. not the scary way. anyway, it is a guessing game additional tags: teasing, nonbinary character

03 | pet livestock play | vibration magic | piercing ky/nadia - who knew your wife was a talented milkmaid? happy cows make the best milk additional tags: pain play, dehumanization, masturbation, anal plug, explicitly ssc

04 | sensory deprivation | submission | needle play ky/nadia - your body is a wonderland when I get ahold of it additional tags: pain play, praise, explicitly ssc

05 | tentacles | sadism | dirty talk noe/valdemar, noe/lucio - “are you into this?” “not under these circumstances!” additional tags: noncon, asexual character in sexual situation, anal probing, graphic violence, dark humor, hurt/comfort

06 | shapeshifting magic | skinny dipping ky/nadia - did your wife really, really like the shape of water? additional tags: cunnilingus, sensory deprivation

07 | threeways | facials ky/rhys/asra - sometimes you get your asra a toy that will eat his ass, as a treat rhys borrowed from @swordwitch additional tags: rimming, overstimulation, nonbinary characters

08 | creampie | at the masquerade ky/vega - what happens at count lucio’s birthday stays at count lucio’s birthday vega borrowed from @athousandstarstodreamon additional tags: unprotected sex, anonymous sex, vaginal sex

09 | patron arcana | feet ky/salia/hermit - [ puts hand on each arcana ] that’s a lot of damage. apply sex magic salia borrowed from @superlemonsweet additional tags: size kink, knotting, stomach bulge, prey kink, sex magic, cunnilingus

10 | body swap magic | oral fixation | body modification ky/tarek - you wake up looking at yourself as someone else. fuck yourself [ y/n ] tarek borrowed from @fantasmagorias additional tags: split tongue, fellatio, anal sex, dirty talk

11 | electricity magic | strap warming ky/iris - under the table does not begin to cover these transactions, but, we all sample our own products from time to time iris borrowed from @motherofqups additional tags: recreational drug use, anal sex, sex magic

12 | edging | watersports | exhibitionism ky/nadia - every pet should be provided ample exercise and enrichment additional tags: pet play, illusion magic, subspace, aftercare, masturbation, breeding mention, vaginal sex, explicitly ssc

13 | love potions | toys | humiliation ky/nadia - do not fuck the plants additional tags: sex pollen and associated dubcon but with emphatic verbal assent, masturbation, overstimulation, aftercare, hurt/comfort

14 | praise | mirrors | punishment noe/lucio - no, there is no additional charge for sex with your swordsmith additional tags: anal sex, bratting, spanking, attempted ssc

15 | shibari | masturbation instruction ky/victoria - smart mouth meets even smarter mouth and fingers victoria borrowed from @candygirl3473 additional tags: bratting, teasing, frustration

16 | choking | masochism | nipple play ky/rory - art - hands on teaching methods are often the best rory borrowed from @thesanguinerose additional tags: condoms, lingerie, trans male character, fellatio

17 | power play | gladiators ky/nadia - if your wife asks you to put this on you, you let her additional tags: swordplay as foreplay, praise, masturbation

18 | masquerade masks | clothes on noe/lucio - it would be rude not to give your boyfriend birthday sex at his own birthday party on his birthday additional tags: teasing, public sex acts, groping

19 | double penetration | gravity magic ky/nadia - conferences can be such a drag additional tags: public sex acts, sex toys

20 | orgasm denial | glory hole ky/nadia - licensed for both public and private performance, with some restrictions additional tags: penetrative sex, anal sex, offscreen creampie, offscreen unsafe sex, teasing, anonymous sex

21 | snowballing | corsets | impact play noe/lucio - your boyfriend can be such a good boy when he wants to be additional tags: bratting, paddling as punishment, attempted ssc

22 | toys | dream sex ky/magician - is this good for you? I know you don’t like, uh, sex additional tags: unreality, uncanny valley, vomiting, drowning, sex magic, asexual character in sexual situation, anal sex

23 | reversed ending | lap dances noe/lucio - fuck in the fire and we'll spread all the ashes around additional tags: threats, devil lucio,

24 | spanking | crying ky/luna - why you gotta be bad, baby, when we can be so good? luna is borrowed from @shieldwitch​ additional tags: bratty behavior, menacing a houseplant, masturbation

25 | bloodplay | fear ky/randy - you ever just wanted to run naked through the woods? maybe not like this randy is borrowed from @fandom-trash-panda-blog​ additional tags: prey/hunting kink, dehumanization, groping, knife use

26 | overstimulation | formalwear | lactation ky/laurel, ky/nadia, asra - how deep we can get counting sheep laurel is borrowed from @queenofeden​ additional tags: unsettling imagery, uncanny valley, stomach bulge, anal sex, pregnancy, birth

27 | voyeurism | feral | begging noe/lucio/takhul - now look, you’ve involved the locals in our drama takhul is borrowed from @fantasmagorias​ additional tags: anonymous sex, fellatio, come eating, snowballing, threesome, masturbation, public sex

28 | gagging | anonymous sex theo/valerius - you said I’d be watching your pet, but you didn’t say which one theo is borrowed from @glimmerblossoms​ additional tags: riding crop, dubious consent, impact play, masturbation with object, sensory deprivation, dehumanization

29 | telepathic magic | knife play noe/lucio - there’s no secrets between us when I’m in your head additional tags: sensory overload, overstimulation, sex magic, anal sex

30 | lingerie | distracted sex | marking ky/midnight - baby, you’re bad for business midnight is borrowed from @candygirl3473 additional tags: bratting, vaginal sex, masturbation, seduction

31 | red wings | blood magic ky/portia - you know that was you, too? you had to believe in it additional tags: vaginal fingering, squirting, sex magic

[aria-i-adagio]

Looks in Need of Sleep that Doesn’t Come

Fandom: The Arcana

Chapter Rating: Teen

Chapter playlist/suggested listening.  :)

Masterpost

In the street, I cast another minor glamour on Julian.  Anyone glancing at him will see someone barely taller than I am.  That should do well enough as a disguise, even if I do say so myself.  Julian speaks rapidly, gesticulating in  the air as he does, about how it’s been ages since he was on a stage, and it’s so exhilarating.  

“I don’t think anyone recognized me, not with the mask.  Oh that was - something else!  I’m still a foot in the meta realm, I swear!”

“Had fun?”

“Well, um.”  He runs a hand through his hair, momentarily displacing his eye patch.  He has it back in place before I can get a glance at any scars it might be hiding.  “I don’t know if fun is quite the right word.  It’s not, that is, I don’t remember killing Lucio.  What I said in there, on stage.  Ugh.”  He stops and takes my hands in his.  “Dema, are you hungry?  Let me buy you dinner.  At the Raven.  And then, darling mine, we do need to talk.”

When we enter the Raven, the barkeep looks up from drying glasses and smiles when he sees Julian.  “I thought you might be here tonight.  Set aside a back table for you, view of the door and a straight shot out through the kitchen.”

“Good of you, Barth.  I don’t suppose you’ve heard -”

He holds up a finger to warn off the question Julian is about to ask.  “I take a long view in business.  You're worth far more to me alive and drinking.  I'll make three times that reward off your tab before all is said and done."  A caw from the rafters indicates that there’s an additional lookout present again.  Barth chuckles.  “Besides, I hear a certain pirate queen has made it clear that anyone who collects that reward won't live long enough to enjoy it.”

Julian runs a hand through his hair.  “A certain pirate queen is supposed to be in retirement.”

Barth snorts dismissively.  “Go sit yourself down.  Wife’s made a pot roast for the dinner rush.  Usual drinks for the two of you?”

I set aside my own questions about how I have a usual drink in a tavern I've visited all of three times now, and follow Julian to the table Barth indicated.  The raven spirals down to his shoulder and preens his hair.  Julian lifts a hand and strokes the bird’s head.  “Thanks, Malak.”

“He has a name?”

“I couldn’t just keep calling him pest.  Would have been a bit rude.  He’s been following me around for years after all.  Comes and goes as he pleases but puts up with me.”  The bird grumbles and puffs up his feathers.  He launches himself off Julian’s shoulder as Barth approaches with two drinks.  Another nasty looking cocktail for Julian and a stein of the dark beer that appears to be my historically favored drink.  Julian nods his thanks as the man retreats behind his counter.  

Julian swallows most of his cocktail in a single gulp, and I take a sip of my beer.  “I wish I knew why Nadia suddenly decided to offer a bounty.”

“I want to know why I’m only valuable alive.  I mean, uh, if she’s just going to hang me.”

“That’s her plan to start the masquerade.”

Julian chokes and not, I suspect, solely from disgusting combination of liquors in his beverage.  “What?  That doesn’t sound like her.  Not at all.  She hated public executions.  Specifically Lucio’s taste for gladiatorial combat, but she didn't care from carrying out any punishment publicly.  Barbaric.  Or so she called it back then."  

"Did you know her?  Before."

"The Countess?"  He pauses and frowns, drawing out his response.  "Yes.  Better than most, I suppose."

"What's your opinion of her?”

"Nadia?"  His lips curve into a fond smile, devoid of any irony.  "Oh, if she really believes I murdered Lucio, she'll hang me alright.  Nothing personal.  Just getting things done.  She likes getting things done.  And she's clever - very, very clever.  She almost had a way figured out the rework the aqueduct system and bring in water from higher in the mountains.  We, um, thought it might have been pure, free from the plague's taint.  I was helping some.  Checking her calculations mostly, not that she needed me too.  But it's hard to do much of anything with Lucio in the way."

"Would she have removed him herself?”

Julian guess silent and gnaws on his bottom lip.  He looks distressed at the idea.  "I, well, I'll admit I could see her taking matters into her own hands.  But I can't see her pinning it on someone else.  Not unless she knew for a fact that they had done something they should swing for.  Maybe not even then."

We’re interrupted by the appearance of Barth’s wife who slides a plate in front of each of us and ruffles Julian’s hair warmly before disappearing again.  Reward or no, I get the feeling that Julian is perfectly safe within this establishment.  Probably most of the city.  

"I don’t know,” Julian continues with a sigh.  “Maybe Valerius got frustrated and posted the reward."  He holds his drink with his pinky extended and fixes his features into a perfect mimicry of the Consul's unimpressed and pretentious expression, matching it with Valerius's overly measured intonation.  "Countess, card tricks and crystal balls are not acceptable methods of investigation."

I laugh at his impression then fold my hands beneath my chin and smirk across the table.  "Ah, but, Valerius doesn't think you're the culprit."

Julian rubs at the back of his left hand and raises his eyebrows in surprise.  "Bit late for that, don't you think."  He shrugs, a surprisingly good natured grin spreading across his face, as he picks up fork and pokes at his food.  "Eh, I'll cut him some slack.  The circumstantial evidence was not and is not in my favor.  And he was, um, a bit distraught at the time.  Understandable, really.  Given that Lucio was burning alive in front of him."

"He and Lucio . . .?"

"Yes.  Very much, yes.  As much as Valerius hated to admit it.  But he, uh, he really doesn't think that I'm the culprit now?"

"I think his words were something along the line of not able to willingly hurt a person."

"Hmm, that's kinder than what I would have expected from him.  Valerius is the only person involved that I'm pretty sure didn't do it."

"He told me something interesting about you."

Julian’s eyebrows lift.  "Oh did he now?”

"He said that you knew Lucio longer and better than most.  Better than the Countess.”

"Well, I've known Lucio longer than he's been Lucio.  How well I know him . . . I suppose he wasn't that hard of a man to know, if you're only willing to pay attention."

"Attention?"

"Yeah.  People thought he wanted all eyes on him.  He thought he wanted all eyes on him.  He didn't.  All that flash and bang?  Just something to hide behind.  And very, very few people looked behind it.  He never wanted to look behind it.  But perhaps that isn’t so odd.  It’s a terrifying thing.  Looking at your actual self."  He pushes his food around the plate.  “But enough of that.  Lucio is dead.  That much, at least, seems to be a fact.  Whatever else anyone did or didn’t do.”

“What about Valdemar?”

Julian’s entire body stiffens at that name.  The muscles in his jaw twitch and his drops his fork.  "Yes.  How do you -?”

"I've met them."

"You've met them?"  His eyes widen and he leans across the table, bringing his face closer to mine.  "Are you alright?  They're - they're the kind of person I want to keep you away from."

I ignore his protests.  "Valerius told me they were the head of research during the plague."

"If you can call that research."  He’s somehow managed to go even paler.

"Julian, what happened?”

"Don't want to think too much about it."  He taps his forehead.  "If I think about it, I might remember it."

“Julian!  I need you to remember something.”

“No.”  He covers his face with his hands.  “You need to be far away from this.  From me.  You’re only going to get hurt.”

“I’m involved already!”

He groans and looks at me through his fingers.  “This is a nightmare.”

I wrap my fingers around his wrists.  “It doesn’t have to be.”

“Dema.”  His eyebrows are knitted together in pain.  “We have to - I can’t - that is, I want.  Ugh.”  He pulls his hands free of mine and stands before fishing a couple of coins from his sash and dropping them on the table.  His appetite having clearly fled at the mention of Valdemar.  “Walk with me.”

Outside the light is dim enough that I don’t bother to cast any glamour on Julian.  Besides, this neighborhood doesn’t seem to be in any rush to turn him over to the palace guard.  He loops a long arm around my waist, matching his much longer paces carefully to mine and leads me through a maze of ever narrower streets.  He silent as we walk, and I say nothing.  It’s clear enough where his thoughts are heading, and I haven’t figured out how to stop them yet. For a moment, I think that we’re headed for the docks, but he turns sharply onto a tiny path that leads up a rocky outcropping.  He pauses at the top and carefully checks between two rock formations before extending his hand to me again.  “Path’s still here.  My memories of the plague are confused, but it was bad.”  He starts rambling as we pick our way down the narrow path.  “Really bad.  They’d closed down the port, so the plague couldn’t get out, but that also meant there wasn’t anything getting in.  Medicine.  Food.  You might hear people grousing about the palace being drunk while the city was starving, but to be honest, that’s because the wine cellar there ran deeper than the larder.  But Maz could always get things in.  Only real supply line I had.  Used to meet her at this cove when the moon was dark.  At lot like tonight.  Came here to think too, sometimes.  When I needed real quiet.”

The stars in the sky seem more brilliant with the majority of the city lights blocked.  With no sound other than the crashing waves, it would be a good place to think.  I sit down in the sand, knees pulled up against my chest.  Julian settles behind me, legs on either side of mine.  He wraps his arms around me and tucks his chin over the top of my head.  To the north, I can just barely see the torches lighting the city docks, but here the only illumination is faint glow from the waxing moon. 

"We can't keep this up.  The longer you're around me the more danger you're in."

"I don't feel like I'm in danger."  Sitting here with Julian's back warm against my chest and his arms caging me, I feel like the pieces of my world are falling back into place, despite everything outside seeming to fall apart.     

Julian sighs heavily and pulls me even tighter to him.  “I don’t actually want to, I really don’t want to end this.”

“Then don’t.”

“I’m a disaster about to happen, Dema, and I don’t want that disaster to happen to you too.  I’ve done the calculations. Run through every possible scenario, over and over.  There’s only one way I see this whole thing playing out, and it’s not a happy ending, trust me.  Isn’t it best to cut things off at the pass - to spare you the trouble of a tragic ending.”  His body tenses up more than it already, curling around me in defiance of his words.

His words remind me of Asra.  Asra leaving me behind again and again, forever protesting that wherever he's going is too dangerous for me or protesting that if he answers my questions, I'll only be hurt.  That he can't stand to take that chance.  My temper flares.  I twist out of Julian's embrace, turning to glare at him.  “Shouldn’t I have some say in how much trouble and tragedy I can manage?”

His gaze is forlorn.  “I just, I just can’t let you subject yourself to the damage that I can do.  That I will do.”

“You’re insufferable.”  I scramble to my feet with a hiss and start back for the narrow path up the cliff.

Julian waits until we're reached the top before speaking again.  "I'd, um, rather you be angry at me and alive than dead."

"I'm not going to stop trying to prove to the Countess that you're innocent."

"Don't.  Please.  Just keep your head down.  Tell Nadia you've decided not to help her."   Julian is a dark silhouette against the night sky.  His shoulders are hunched, suggesting that he wants nothing more than to disappear into the ocean beneath us.  “I’ll, um, walk you back to your shop.  If you want, that is, but I’d feel better about it if you let me.”

I start for the shop without waiting for him.  He walks behind me, then beside me, like he can’t figure out where he actually should be, where he is allowed to be now.  At a torch lit corner he grabs my hand, pulling me to a stop.  “I, I, this, this will drive me mad, knowing you’re there, no, you’re here.  But it’s for the best, I’ll only end up hurting you.”  He looks away from me. “Worse, that is.”

“I’m not afraid of pain.”

“I’m only trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need to be protected.”

“It’s all I can offer you!”  He tugs at his hair in frustration.  “I’m not a good man, Dema.  The things I’ve done... I must have done something unforgivable.  Where else does this ache pit in my stomach come from?”

“Probably from not eating enough and drinking too much.”  I intend for the comment to be snarky, but it comes out sounding concerned instead.  I reach up and touch his face.  He leans into my palm before snapping upright and away from my hand.

“I won’t, that is, don’t, you shouldn’t come down this path with me.  You deserve better than that.”  His expression is entirely forlorn.  The urge to pull him into an embrace is as strong as my desire to shove him into the wall.  We’ve been at this impasse before, in some past that we’ve both forgotten.

“Do you want me, Julian?”

“That’s a strange question, isn’t it?”

“I’m a fortune teller, Julian.  I can sense when there is meaning beneath the words actually spoken.”

“I . . . ”  He pulls back from my touch as if it burns him, and for a moment, I am afraid that he will run away.  “I want you to be safe.  I want you to stay out of this whole mess.  I want . . .  It doesn’t matter what I want.  I stole a night or two from time, with you.  And I’m scared to press my luck any further.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Tenacious, aren’t you?  It’s one of the things I like about you.  You’re like this great bright light, drawing me towards you.  I just can’t help myself.”  A moth to the flame, ever headed toward destruction.  What happened to make him think that life would always end in tragedy?  I’m working through the implications of his comparison, when he admits, softly,  “I want you.  I know it's only been a short time, but I feel like I’ve known you for years.  Is it because you put me at ease?  That’s hard to do.”  

I feel a strange reassurance from his words.  If we both feel that this has been longer than it actually has, more than two nights of frivolous debauchery, perhaps there was some connection in the past, perhaps something to be had in the future. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he continues.  “That’s the problem.  I’m torn in two, Dema.  My brain tells me to leave, but my heart wants to stay.”  He looks up, staring at the torch then at the moon beyond it.  “If I think about it . . . I can see the path our story would take.  So why?”  He slumps against the wall, then grabs my hand and pulls me toward him, wrapping me into his ridiculous overcoat.  “Are you cold? You must be cold?”  It’s a warm night, and I’m not cold at all, but I humor his aside.  Besides, I want the closeness, his hand around my shoulders and the comfort it entails.  “If I walk away from you now, will I stay away?  If I drop my guard, will I find myself walking right back to you?  That’s what makes me selfish.  Because whatever we could have, whatever possibilities they’ll only lead to ruin.  That’s the kind of man I am.  Even if you prove I'm innocent.  There’s no future for us that doesn’t end in pain for you.”

“What future do you want?”

“I’ve told you, it doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Can’t you see anything but tragedy?”

“It’s what will happen.  In this world, we don’t get what we want.  Why waste time imagining something you can’t have?  I don’t dare hope.  It just makes it hurt more when you don’t get it.”

“. . . Try.  Please.  For me.”  I hate how pitiful my voice sounds.

He laughs darkly.  “What do you want to hear from me?  That I want a future? That I want to live?  That I want something with you?”  He pulls away from and begins to pace in the torchlight.  “Right now - right now, I do.  And with you, perhaps always something with you.  But you don’t understand, I try to run from it.  This darkness that has always surrounded me.  Always convincing myself that if I'm just quick enough, if I can just do something - anything - to merit an escape, it won't catch me again.  But always, always the darkness returns and, and the despair that comes with it, and maybe you won’t be enough then for me to still want this life.  We could run, like you said, but it'll hound me to the other end of the world, even if it doesn't catch me here.”  His voice trails off as he steps outside of the circle of light.  I follow him, hand outstretched, but not touching him, not yet.  He draws his hands up, shielding his face from my gaze.  “I can see a future with you when I close my eyes, but I know that it’s an illusion, that fate will overpower anything bright.  And maybe you as well.  So, if I end it now, you’ll survive, Dema.  You were fine before I got here.  You’ll be fine after I’ve left.”  He shakes his head and pauses, breathing deliberately for a moment.  The pathos in his voice, when he talks about ending it, ending it now scares me.  I want to believe he's only speaking ending whatever there is between us, but . . .

"Julian -”

He catches my hand in his, cutting off anything I might say.  “Please, Dema, let me walk you home now.”

I clutch his hand tight in mine for the few remaining blocks back to the shop.  He leaves me at the door with a hesitant, melancholy kiss to each of my cheeks.  “Believe me, Dema.  If I had what I wanted . . . You’re the first person to make me want a future in a long time, but I know . . .”  His voice trails off miserably.  “Be well, my dear.”

He disappears before I collect myself enough to lodge another protest.  I lean against the door, trying to collect myself, matter the tears that I want to cry - that I also do not want to cry.  When I finally push open the door, the shop is filled with light and smells like cinnamon and green tea.  Asra has returned.  He climbs down the stairwell a moment later, fluffy hair glowing in the candlelight like a halo, and embraces me.

“Back from your jaunt at the palace?  Welcome home.”  He looks at my face then steps back, eyebrows knitting in concern.  “I recognize that look.  What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”  I am decidedly not fine, and I want a bath.  I step past him and head up the stairs.  In the kitchen, I drag out our shallow tub and fill it with water from the pump.  Hands hovering over the surface heating the water through.  Clothes tossed to the side, I climb in, dunk my head under to rinse out my hair, and sink as far down as I can.

I lose track of time, and how many times I’ve used my magic to reheat the water.  Asra eventually coaxes me out, wraps me in a fluffy robe, and forces me to drink a glass of water before letting me collapse into bed.  I may complain about Asra’s lack of personal boundaries.  It’s a lie.  I love that I can count on him to know what’s on my mind, and what I need to ease it.  At least, that is, when he’s here.  But he’s here right now.  Finally, without rolling over to face him, I talk.

I tell him the whole story in starts and stops, voice cracking as I try to keep myself from bursting into tears.  The mattress sinks with Asra’s slight weight as he lays down beside me and hesitantly puts a hand on my shoulder.

“That sounds like Ilya.” He’s quiet for a moment.  “The only things he loves more than drama is his own suffering.  And he’s determined to chase both.”  His voice is uncharacteristically bitter when he speaks.  A witch afraid of commitment and a man more comfortable with suffering than without it.  And me caught between whispers of the forgotten and murmurs of the yet unknown.  How crooked and confused!  All the moreso because everytime I think I’ve unraveled part of it, the thread is taken from me again, lost in a maze of migraines and confused thoughts.  

I roll over.  I want to be able to see Asra before I ask the next question on my mind.  He’s lying on his side, Faust coiled up on his hip, watching me with those gentle eyes.  But Asra could make it less crooked, less confused.  If he chose to.  “I feel like I’ve known him a lot longer than a few days.  Just like I feel - know - I’ve known you longer than I can remember.”  After all, Julian and Asra were even involved at some point in the past, it stands to reason that I knew him at the time.  “Did I know him?  Before?”  Even as I ask the question I can feel a headache starting to stab behind my eyes.  I do my best to hide it from Asra concerned that he won’t answer my question if he knows one of my headaches is already beginning.

Asra reaches out and strokes my hair.  He frowns, looks away, then meets my eyes again.  “Yes. You knew each other.”

“Why doesn’t he remember me?”  I sit up in bed and pull my knees to my chest.  “Asra, Julian doesn’t remember the night the count died either.  And Nadia is missing years.”  The headache stabs through my temples; I gasp, unable to disguise the pain any longer.  Asra sits beside and begins to massage my scalp.  The headache starts to dissipate, pushed away by his fingers, cool like water.   For a moment I can hear a gentle splashing, like the fountain in the garden.  The fountain that I had tried to reach Asra from the other night, only to wake with one of his scarves folded under my head.  This has happened before.  I’ll get a hint of my past, some memory trying to push its way back into my consciousness.  And then a headache, excruciating, too much to stand, or so I’ve thought in the past.  But Asra is always there, with his cool hands, and his magic, and the pain fades, but with it goes the whispers of things forgotten.

I jerk away from his touch and grab his hand.  “Asra?”  His eyes flick away from mine.  Faust slides from him to me, coiling around my shoulders with a reassuring squeeze.     

"The fountain!  The other night.  I did contact you and - what the hell did you do, Asra?"

"Dema, I'm so sorry.  I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"Losing you again.  You getting lost - trapped - in a memory that is trying to fight back."

"What do you mean?”

"Sometimes, it's as if you retreat so far into yourself when you follow a memory that you're lost.  You don't speak.  You don't seem to hear.  I tried to tell you everything once and it was -”  His voice cracks.  “It was too much.  You stayed like that for days once,  not talking, looking at nothing, until -"

"Until what?"

"I, um, I figured out how to, how to make you forget again.  Dema, I'm so sorry.  It's awful.  Everything is wrong, and nothing is right, and it's all my fault.  I never -"

“Don’t take anything else away from me, Asra.  Not again."  

"I . . . I won’t.”  He sighs heavily.  “But I can’t tell you everything you want to know. What if it’s too much for you? I can’t take the chance that this time you don’t come back from it.”

Trying to hold back frustrated tears, I slump back into the pillows. “I want to remember.  To know, at least!  Why are you the only one to remember anything from that time?”

He lies back down beside me.  “I’m so sorry, my love.  I wish I could tell you everything.”

It takes a moment for his endearment to sink in.  My love.  He’s never called me that before and the implications aren’t ones I want to dwell on.  What else, who else have I forgotten?  Why should Asra be the keeper of my past?  It’s infuriating, even if the stabbing pain in my head reminds me that there are reasons behind his refusal.

“What should I do?”  I ask, because how can I possibly decide when I don’t have all the information.

“What do you want to do?”  Asra asks.  I contemplate socking Asra with a pillow, but he continues before I work up enough energy to do so.  “You want to go after him, right?  I can’t stop you.  I just . . . I want you to be careful.”

“Why did you call me 'my love’ just now?”  When the question leaves my mouth, Asra's breath catches.  I push myself up, weight resting on one arm so that I can see his face.  He averts his eyes and brings one hand to his chest, resting it over his heart. I almost feel bad for doing so, but I press him anyway.  “What was I to you? Before.”

“We . . . We were lovers.”

As he says the words, icy talons stab through my temples, creep to the base of my skull, and trace a line of white, hot fire down my back.  I cry out from the sudden pain and collapse against Asra’s chest.  Half formed images of Asra - almost but not quite memories - rush through my mind and are gone again.  A house is a desert.  Asra laughing.  Tangled in bedsheets with sweat beading along his back.  

“Dema!”  Asra’s voice is frantic as he calls my name.  I'm dimly aware of his hands on my arms, but he sounds far away.  Always so far away.  “Dema, please, stay with me, please.” The ringing in my ears grows into the roar of a fire before darkness overtakes me.

When I come back to myself, there's a damp towel pressed over my eyes.  But the memory is still there.  Asra kept his promise.  The headache is in retreat for the time being, a weight curled at the base of my skull to remind me that it can return at any time.  Asra is asleep in an armchair beside the bed with Faust in his lap.  Even asleep, his eyebrows knit together in worry.

We - Asra and I - were lovers?  It makes sense in a way.  His face, lined with concern, is the first thing I remember when I woke three years ago.  His voice talked me through the fiery, all-day consuming pain that I was in until it subsided into migraines and nightmares.  I'd never questioned why we shared the rooms above the shop and slept in this single bed; it had been natural.

But why had he never told me? In all the nights we'd snuggled together he's never done more than kiss my forehead.  He'd never said a word about any of the bad or worse relationships I'd gotten into and out of over the past year or so, since I'd begun trying to prove to myself that I wasn't just a fragile porcelain doll.  What a tangled mess, and Asra was intent on carrying the weight of it on his own.

Oh, Asra.  I reached out and pushed his curls back from his face.  He sighed in his sleep and leaned his hand into my hand.  So, we loved each other once.  He and Julian were involved once. Julian and I knew each other once.  And Asra alone knows what Julian and I may have been to each other.  When I don't even know if I'm the same person Asra loved and Julian knew?  What now? 

Faust sleepily coils herself around my arm, moving from Asra’s lap to the pillow beside my head.  Her tongue brushes softly over my cheek.  “Friend okay?”

“We can pretend.”  She bops her nose against mine before settling back to sleep.  With a sigh, I follow her lead.  

Next Chapter

Masterpost

A/N: Chapter title from Depeche Mode, ‘Barrel of a Gun.’

[thearcanamoshpit]

 [Julian x GN Reader] Highschool!AU

(Hi hello welcome this is my first fic in like 5 years, but i love this fandom so much i want to contribute with something, so I hope you guys enjoy! Excuse any weird english, its not my first lenguage)

It was a cold day of fall.

And one of the few times I ever was sent to detention.

The other ones were over silly things really. Getting a little talkative with my friends in the middle of a class, getting caught killing time in the hallways. It happened quite rarely, really. I'm generally quiet, try to be kind with everybody, respectfull and mind my own business. But this time, things got a little out of hand.

As if having a bad night of sleep, waking up late, and leaving without breakfast wasn't enough, one of the guys that messes with me now and then decided to examine the book I had in hands a little to closely, and telling everyone in the hallway what it was about, while making a few coments about me.

By "examine a little to closely", I mean snapping it out of my hands and waving around my very precious, handmade and very difficult to find witchcraft book.

By "making a few coments about me", I mean calling me Satan's little whore, in front of a little crown of at least 40 people.

It took 3 minutes before I was on top of him, screaming, punching and scratching his face with every fiber of my being, people circling us while the hallway tuned into a confused mass of voices and yells. He did fight back a little, giving me a bruised chin and a scrach on my cheek, but I left him a bloody mess. After being able to pull me off him, the principal took me straight to his room. It was a long conversation on how he should suspend me and all, but he was very found of me. Since the boy was the one who started it, and I did got hurt too, I left his room with only a few hours of volunteer work in the school´s garden and an afternoon spend in detention.

After the last period, I started making my way into detention, getting a few side glances from everybody in the hallways. I quickly made my way into the room, rushing oppen the door, every eye in the room turning to meet me, a few coments popping here and there.  I didn't got surprised for seeing the detention's regular costumers there: Vulgora, who is aways getting in a fight with someone. Volta, who is aways eating in the most non discreet way possible, in the middle of a class. Vlastomil, the weird worm kid that keeps sneaking his “pet worm” into school. Valdemar, who is aways acting suspicious and taking stuff from the school's lab. Valerious, who got caught at least 3 times carrying wine into his water bottle, and a few other familiar faces.

I was looking around, finding a place to sit as far of everybody that I could, to at least have some peace during the next very monotonous hours.

Until I spotted his face.

I knew him. We did lab and biology classes together, although we never shared a word.

Julian Devorak.

His grey eyes stormy eyes staring right at me.

The comedian of the class, aways messing around and craking jokes. He was quite a charmer, and I frequently got myself staring at him way to much. But its not like I could ever stand a chance. There was always someone falling for him, and I, well, was me. Everybody liked him. Well, not the people he got into fights with, wich did happened pretty frequently, although I never seen him here before. Its not like I got send to detention that much anyway.

But there I was, standing in the front of the class, frozen, with his eyes not leting go of mine. Why are you staring at me? I felt my face heating up.

"Have you found a place to sit yet, or do you need help?" The sudden voice of the supervisor made me jump a little, causing a few laughs in the class and my cheeks to warm up even more.

I hurried myself to sit in the first seat I saw, next to the window, and next to the red haired man.

I didnt dare to make eye contact with him, still too embarassed of what had just happened. A few seconds passed until he leans a little closer, whispering

"Hi. Its [name] right?"

"...y-yes, it is" I said quietly, still a little tense, while putting my things on the table.

"I saw what you did to him, that bastard. Messing around with you like that. You left him pretty ugly, didn't knew you could put up a fight!" He said, chuckling a bit "Its Julian, by the way"

"Oh, I know" I said, a smile creeping on my face "But I'm not a fighter, really, I just don't like people calling me names in front of a crowd, while taking my stuff, on a already stressing day. Although... I guess you could say I like a little danger here and there" I said chucking softly on the last part, placing a few hairs behind my ear while turning to face him.

Being this close to him, he was even more handsome, if that was even possible. That perfect angled jaw line, those beautifull red locks framing his face, the deep grey eyes. I got myself staring.

And I got him staring too, at my now exposed scratch on my cheek.

“Did he hurt you...?” he said, frowning, while leaning closer to me, his long fingers touching my wound softly, eyes locked in my cheek.

I twitched a little, surprised with the sudden touch. His fingers were cold, contrasting with the -now even hotter- warm of my cheeks. 

“It was nothing, really...” He noticed me stiffing, and retreated his hand, his eyes looking straight into my now. I turned away, a smile popping on my face “Y-you should see the other guy”

“Oh, I saw him” he chuckled softly, the tension around us easing “Remember me to never getting into a fight with you” he arched his browns, a wide grin on his lips.

“Said the school’s Rocky Balboa!” I laugh, finally placing my witchcraft book on the table.

“Who? Me? My, I’m flattered-” he cutted himsolf short, eyes fixating on the book cover, a serious look on his face.

When I noticed that, I lean over the book, trying to cover it with my body, turning my eyes away from him and feeling my face starting to burn again. Shit. I should have kept it in my bag. Why did I took it out? The very first time the guy ever talks to me and he is already thinking I am a weird paggan-witch enthusiast who talks to plants and cast spells at fullmoon. I kinda am though...

When my body got in the way of his focus, he snapped, a deep blush creeping over his face as he started to apologise.

“S-sorry! I didn’t meant to stare! Its not that I think you are weird or something...” he muttered, voice fading away at the end. It took him a few moments before he spoke again “I just find it...intriguing”

“Intriguing?” I eyed him, my eyebrowns frowning slightly. I wan’t used to people describing witchcraft as intriguing often.

“Yes, intriguing. I don’t quite understand it, black magic stuff. Like do you just mix a bunch of stuff in a caldom while chanting old mystic spells?” there was no real venom behind his voice, although he put up a sacarstic tone to it. It made me laugh, shufling my body so I would face him.

“Well, kinda. But that is not black magic though. Black magic is way more serious and dangerous than that. What I focus on, and what this book is mostly about too, is herbology, stones and charms.

“And do they work? Like, the spells?” he said the last word with a little disbelief.

“Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t, like real medicine. You mix some stuff to try to get a certain outcome, and if they don’t work then you try again. But the spell casting thing is more of a pray though, to ask spirits and other forces around you an little extra help.” I took the book in my hands, hesitating in silence before closing a bit of the distance between us “...wanna take a look?”

After a few seconds, his fingers brushed slightly the cover of the book, before the supervisor closed the door of the room after the last person finally arived. The detention was about to start.

"Okay now you all. Today we got a pretty full room hun? Well, for your punishment, each of you shall right a 500 word essay of why are you here, and apologising for it. You cannot leave the room until is 5pm and you have gave me your essay. Using your cellphones is not aloud, nor getting friendly with your classmates. So quit messing around and get to work"

I was already regreting punching that guy in the face, leating out a long sigh. I retreated my book, grabbed my essay notebook and started to write my name on a page when I felt a soft tug in my sleeve.

"Hey. I really didn't want to put up with this” He said, whispering, a mischevious grin on his face. “...and you seem to do like a little danger. Say, want to bail this with me?" 

"And may I ask how do you plan on doing that, Mr.Devorak?" I arched an eyebrown, smiling, eyes on the supervisor sitting at his desk.

"My, you seem to doubt my abilities" he said, bringing a hand to his heart, looking dramatically ofended "Have you not realized that we are here with the easiest person to draw attention to: Vulgora" I looked at Vulgura across the room, and I saw them in the farest table -already- furiously marking it with their sharp nails. What the hell, does he plan to mess with them?

He stod up, took a pencil from my pouch -blinking his eye- and calmly walked into the front ot the room, with the supervisor eyeing him suspeciouly

"I'm just using the sharpener" he said, and began to slowly sharp the pencil in the big sharpener on the supervisor table. He glanced at me, a curious smile paited on my face, and his mouth moved without making a sound

“Now”

He turned to Vulgora, a surprised expression on his face.

"Oh my God Vulgora, is that a pocket knife?! You know those aren't aloud in here!" The whole class gasped, every head turning to Vulgora.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOU LUNATIC?!" They yelled, banging they're fists on the table, making Volta squeak.

The supervisor stood up, his voice angry but not surprised.

"What the hell Vulgora? Give me that now" he started to make his way into their seat, the whole class starting to grew into a confused mass of whispers.

"I DONT HAVE NOTHING! YOU STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

"They hid it in their bag!" Julian yelled over the mass of voices, slowly making his way back into his seat. I got the message, and started to quietly but quickly put my stuff back into my backpack.

"Vulgora show me your bag" the supervisor was standing right beside Vulgora's desk, their back turned at me and Julian.

"OVER MY FUCKING DEAD BODY" They yelled, grabing his bag close to their body, and the class erupted in a riotous cacophany, people banging their hands on the table and yelling.

"Come on come on come on!" Julian threw his bag over his shoulder and, grabbing my arm, and we sprinted to the hallway, passing completely unoticed by the supervisor. We kept running until we were outside of the school gates, the voices getting lower and lower as we got away from the class. When we got into the streets, we were breathing heavly and giggling, the cold air around us contrasting with the heat in our faces.

And he was still holding my arm.

When he notice it, he quickly let it go "S-sorry" he whispered, a little blush creeping over.

"No, its okay, really" I shift my feet, only now realising the height difference we had- I was over a feet smalled than him, making my blush over the run intensify "Thanks for getting us out of there...I reallt didn’t wanna do that essay” I paused a little “I owe you one..."

We just stood there quiet for a few moments, just staring at eachother, the clouds of our breaths surrouding us, not knowing quite what to say next.

"Well..." he started it, looking at his phone "Its still 3:40pm, and there is this nice café nearby..." he played a little with his hair, making the curls dangle like fire ambers in the sunlight "...say, do you want to go with me? Like its... totally fine if you would rather go home i just... er hm...really like the way you drawn plants in botanic's class, and it would be really cool if you could teach me...for school stuff you know... so we can be you know...even.. and stuff"

I just stood there, my cheaks definitely very red at this point. Was he...asking me out? Me? Out? He was shifting his weight alot, and not quite meeting my eyes. He aways sounded so confided with others, why was he acting shy with me?

And more.

He observed me. And my drawings. And he liked them. He liked my shitty botanical drawings. My head was spinning, not processing what was happening around me, making me take a few seconds before verbalizing anything.

"Why er- of course! Thats sound fun, really, i'd love!" I said, a little more enthusiastic that I should, steping a few feet closer to him. “Then you can teach me how to knock down a guy whithout letting him smack you”

He smiled, and my heart skipped a beat for a second.

“My, you came to the right guy! See, the thing is you have to protect your face the whole time...”

We started making our way into the café, him talking lively about how to get the perfect punch during the whole time. And I just stood there, gigling like an idiot, not being able to believe how lucky I got.