This tag cleared my skin, my crops are thriving, my heart is bursting with all the love!
Tagging these wonderful sweet peeps who I love and adore!
@waitforawonder @thefightingfangirl @sachertorte-and-suffering @monsieurlegolas @thebluestmage @lilredbird101 @cheap-oracle @thecardssayfuckoff @inconsort @sasukenerdyninja @towa-no-yume and so many more ❤️❤️❤️
I’m not a very social person so these are just 8 lol I haven’t even talked to some of you but I’ve grown used to see you in my dash and I’m kinda fond of yall <33
UMMMMMMMMMM let’s all take a moment to appreciate the lovely @pastatrolastrash who is not only an incredibly talented artist but also a beautiful, positive, wonderful sunshine beam of a person <3 <3
here are some other people who I think are fantastic! I’ve only talked to a few of you but I want u all to know I love seeing ur stuff!!
"you have been touched by a god, little one," his god says, and their knowing, cheshire smile makes him burn. their words are so much more than a double entendre - so much more than his mind has been touched by the gods, and his hair has been scorched white because of it. all the gods asra knows are mischievous, playful, charming, cruel. they are gods, and they know that, and they use asra for what they want simply because they can.
julian is the first one that believes him. he hangs onto asra's every words, likes every post, adds his own input from his own experiences with his gods. when they meet, asra can see how he is god-touched in the heavy shadows in and under his eyes. he looks haunted, weighed down by all the truths and secrets the gods have shouted to him.
julian believes asra, trusts him, would do anything for him, but he does not agree with him - not about everything. the gods are not quiet, julian says, they are loud, so loud, shouting and shrieking in his mind at all hours of the day. the gods are not to be ignored, and they have no need for food or sleep - just for vessels to spread their words.
nadia is almost, almost like them. her god is quiet, speaks to her in dreams and signs that make her head ache and her vision swim. she is the one that finds them, driven to them both by her own wish and by the will of her god. just one look and she can tell what they all have in common, how their gods have used them. it takes just one look, and asra knows that nadia can see, can see all of julian's resistance, his own acquiescence - and he can see her too, that her god has bound itself to her, and that she has bound all of herself to her god. there is acceptance and desire and trust in that relationship, and asra gets the feeling that nadia may be the only one that actually knows her god.
Julian looks at Asra like he hung the moon in the sky, like he's brighter than any star. And Nadia gets that, because she knows that she has the same look on her face whenever Asra laughs or directs a soft smile her way. Asra is their sun, and they're both helplessly caught up in his orbit.
tw: weed/alcohol mentions
Julian is just a little bit in love with Asra.
As Asra's girlfriend, Nadia knows she should mind - Julian's crush is more than obvious, and she's been dating Asra for more than a few years now, but it's honestly kind of cute. Everyone's just a little bit soft for Asra even if they don't mean to be, so Nadia isn't surprised that Julian has a crush on him. Asra likes to flirt, likes to tease, and Julian's always been weak for any kind of affection no matter how much he claims to hate it.
Nadia knows that Julian doesn't like her - not the way he likes Asra, and she's honestly okay with that. Because while there is (sometimes) respect in Julian's eyes when he looks at her, and he looks at Nadia like she's something beautiful, his gaze always passes onto the next thing that catches his attention. And more often than not, that something is Asra.
Julian looks at Asra like he hung the moon in the sky, like he's brighter than any star. And Nadia gets that, because she knows that she has the same look on her face whenever Asra laughs or directs a soft smile her way. Asra is their sun, and they're both helplessly caught up in his orbit.
"You're staring, Nadi. What's up?"
"I was just thinking about Julian," she replies, and it's not a lie, not technically. At the mention of their friend, Asra laughs, fond and endeared. He'd been sitting at his desk, but he closes the book he's reading to join Nadia in bed, curling up against her like always.
"What about Ilya?" She doesn't have to see his face to know that he's smiling - she can hear it in his voice. Julian always makes him smile.
Nadia just hums and, before Asra can nudge her, she begins to run her fingers through Asra's curls, fried from dye and still damp from the shower he just took. "What do you think of him?"
"I mean..." Asra shrugs, thinks for a moment. "He's a good classmate and a good friend. Works hard, studies more than he should-"
"He likes you," Nadia says, plain and simple. And Asra must not believe her, because one hand comes up to hide his smile and smother his laugh, and he shakes his head.
"No he doesn't, Nadi."
"He looks at you like you hung the stars, Asra. He likes you, trust me."
"So?" At that, Asra twists around to face Nadia, a cheshire smile on his lips and secrets in his eyes. "If Ilya likes me, he can do something about it himself."
"Julian may be many things, but bold in the pursuit of his affections..."
Asra laughs again before nodding in agreement. "Very true, Nadi. What do you suggest?"
"That, my dear, is up to you. It's you he likes, not me."
Asra is quiet for a long few moments, but then he twists around to look up at Nadia, mischief shining in his eyes. "Dearest, didn't you say you wanted to make brownies tomorrow?"
"Whatever are you planning?"
"Absolutely nothing," Asra says, kisses her quiet. "Nothing for you, anyway. Just Ilya."
Whatever Asra is planning can't be good, but as always, Nadia is helpless to agree with his whims.
When Friday comes, and the brownies have been made, Asra invites Julian over with innocence in his eyes and the sweet promise of weed and alcohol on his lips. He didn't need to try so hard - or at all, honestly - because an agreement spills from Julian's lips as soon as Asra says "do you want to come over," and Nadia hides a laugh behind her hand. Julian is head over heels in love with Asra, and it is the sweetest, silliest thing she has ever seen.
Friday night finds the three of them in the living room - Nadia sitting curled up in one of the loveseats and Asra and Julian curled up on the couch. They'd each had a brownie about an hour ago, and Asra springs up at the sound of the doorbell, coming back with a smile on his lips and two pizzas in his hands. When Asra mentions wanting another brownie, Nadia just scoffs, and when he pouts, all she does is raise a brow and point at the couch to make him sit.
"Ilya would let me," Asra whines, "wouldn't you?"
"Anything for you," Julian breathes. A blush scorches his cheeks, and he looks a bit nervously at Nadia, who consults her phone as if it is the most interesting thing in the room. But then Julian makes another strangled noise, and when Nadia glances over, she sees that her lovely, awful boyfriend has draped himself in Julian's lap, straddling him and pushing close.
"Ilya," Asra mumbles, and ah, Nadia sees now, what he had been planning. They both know how needy Julian gets when he's high, though nothing has ever happened, but tonight is going to change that, apparently.
Julian's hands flutter to rest on Asra's hips, and when Asra makes an encouraging noise, he holds him just a bit tighter.
"He likes it when you hold him tight. He won't break." Nadia encourages.
At the sound of her voice, Julian jumps, pushing Asra away and staring between them, eyes wide. Asra's gaze is only on Nadia though, and she can tell that he wants her to help, so-
Nadia stands, sitting on the other side of Julian and placing her hand on his thigh. "It's okay, Julian. I'm telling you it's okay."
Julian lets out a trembling, shuddering breath, and when his brows wrinkle, she laughs. "Julian, did you really think you could hide your crush from me? Maybe this idiot didn't know, but I could tell so, so easily." And almost absently, she adds, "I think it's cute."
This time, Asra holds out his hands for Julian, gesturing for him to come closer, to sit in his lap. "Ilya, please?"
But Julian doesn't move. And yes, Nadia could see how startling this must be, and Julian always has been a little slow, so-
Julian startles when Nadia pushes him gentle, but this time, when Asra gestures Julian clambers into his lap like he belongs there.
"Do you want to kiss him?" Nadia asks. She scoots a little closer, her knees pressing against Asra's, and she doesn't know if it's her proximity or the thought of kissing Asra that makes Julian shudder and nod.
And no sooner are the words ("You can, Julian,") out of her mouth that Julian leans in and kisses Asra, trembling, soft. Surprisingly so, for the amount of weed in the brownies, for how long Julian has liked Asra.
But the kiss - it's clumsy, just the soft brush of their lips against each other. When Asra pulls away, he looks so fondly at Julian that Nadia's heart clenches in her chest.
"I've...I've never..." Julian starts - leaves it open ended. Nadia melts.
"We'll teach you," she promises, leaning in to press her lips to Julian's neck. "Just be good and listen to me, okay?"
Julian nods, twists around to look at Nadia, eyes darting to her lips in a silent question, one that Nadia answers by kissing him, just as gentle as he'd kissed Asra. Julian's lips are chapped a little, but still soft, and Nadia can taste Asra's raspberry chapstick on his lips.
"I can taste your chapstick," she teases Asra when she pulls back. Her hand has fallen to Julian's thigh, maybe to ground him, maybe to ground them both, and Julian's attention is fully on Asra again.
"Please, can we...?"
Asra smiles, wide and lazy and unrestrained, and presses his answer to Julian's lips: the promise of everything.
I feel like 24 and 44 on that dialogue prompt list go really well together for asrian (love ur style btw!)
24. “Say it!”
“Funny that I feel safest here. In a town where I am wanted for murder, I feel safest in the witch-magician’s shop, no, in his bed-”
+
44. “Make me.”
“It feels like we have centuries between us,” Julian continues, quiet now. He rolls off of Asra’s back to lay down next to him, and despite the flush to his cheeks, his gaze is steady and clear.
This is the part where Julian leaves.
He knows that, he does, but he had been collecting his clothes and his things and glanced back at Asra, and-
He’s lying tangled up in all the sheets, exhausted and fucked out, and his bed looks. So big and comfortable and warm right now.
Julian’s never stayed the night, he knows that’s not allowed, but - “Can I stay the night?” he blurts out.
Asra’s brows wrinkle, but he doesn’t open his eyes - he doesn’t even need to look at Julian, he knows him that well. “What’s wrong, Ilya?”
And oh, oh. “I wish you wouldn’t say that, darling. It almost makes me think you care.”
“I do care,” Asra says, ever mild. “And yes, you can stay the night.”
Julian feels his heart thud hard in his chest, and he nods even though Asra can’t see it. He feels more nervous now than he felt the first time they kissed, the first time they fucked. “Move over, please?”
At that - maybe it’s the tremble in Julian’s voice, maybe it’s how he hesitates, maybe it’s something else, but Asra opens his eyes, and looks, really looks at him. “What’s wrong, Ilya? What’s really wrong?”
“I shouldn’t say. You’d hate me.”
“I could never hate you, Ilya.”
Is that - Julian can’t tell if Asra is flirting, if he’s just teasing the way Julian is, if they’re dancing around the start of a relationship that they had both said would never happen-
“Funny that I feel safest here. In a town where I am wanted for murder, I feel safest in the witch-magician’s shop, no, in his bed-”
“Ilya, just say it.”
And like with all things, Julian is helpless to obey, and the words all come tumbling out, almost without his permission. “I’m going to fall in love with you, Asra. I fear I already am.”
And Asra just - sighs. He doesn’t have to say anything, because Julian knows.
(But he does let Julian stay the night, even still. Sleeping with one arm tucked around Asra’s sleeping body is the best feeling in the world.
And waking alone is the worst.)
♡♡♡
“You know that I love you, right?” Julian says. He lets his body fall, deadweight across Asra’s back, and he huffs out a laugh at the offended noise Asra makes.
“I know you’re drunk, Ilya.”
As if he hadn’t heard what Asra said, Julian continues. “Like - I love you. I don’t think I’ve ever cared about someone as much as I care about you - love you. Like…I’m in love with you. Capital l and all, Asra. I am capital l in love with you, Asra.”
“Shut up, Ilya.”
“I’ve been in love before,” Julian continues, “but never like this. Love with you feels…pure, and easy, and gentle - it always has. You make me happy, Asra. You don’t even have to do anything. Just talking to you makes me happy, thinking about you makes me happy. And yes, I’m drunk, but that doesn’t change what I feel. I know what I’m saying, Asra, and I mean all of it.”
Asra knows all of this - he does. Julian has said it all before, maybe thousands of times, and he’s meant it. He always has, but for some reason, Asra’s heart is thudding quick quick quick in his chest from the honesty in Julian’s words.
“Ilya, shut up.”
But of course, Julian doesn’t listen.
“You’re like a star, you know? Beautiful and shining. But you’re also far away, and you’re cold.”
“Stars are hot, Ilya.”
“My point is that I love all of you. And it almost feels like we’ve done this before. You feel it too, don’t you?”
“Ilya-”
“It feels like we have centuries between us,” Julian continues, quiet now. He rolls off of Asra’s back to lay down next to him, and despite the flush to his cheeks, his gaze is steady and clear.
“Ilya, please. Shut up.”
At that, Julian plasters a familiar grin on his lips. The wicked, wicked one that stretches out his lips and does not meet his eyes, the one that all the girls fall for. The one that everyone falls for, except for Asra. “Make me then.”
Asra does, easily.
And even when he has Julian biting back curses and drunk on feeling, all Asra can think of is him saying, so easily, I love you.
so i was listening to this song i’ve loved forever, “calleth you, cometh i” by the ark, and when i listen to the lyrics i realise that. this is just super duper angsty asrian. and i just love everything you’ve written about asrian and idk if this is a prompt or not but i just wanted to tell you jshdhsjskasj thank u for all of your fics i luv them. pls listen to the song i want to share my pain
this just makes me so sad man it Really is them eye-
(tbh i dont know if this makes Sense but like)
maybe other people around them knew that it wasn’t The Healthiest Relationship but they didn’t think it was unhealthy , or maybe they just Wanted it to be healthy , maybe they wanted it to be Love
and maybe it Was love, or a kind of love , and maybe neither of them really Realized Just How Bad it was until it was all over
but by then everything had spiraled out of control and even if they Wanted to try again or fix things it just . wouldn’t work out but Still ,
if one of them wanted, the other would be there, and as much as they say they hate the other, they don’t. not really
and like . maybe they both (but julian especially, because he’s always been a homeless romantic) think that . maybe things will be better in the future, and maybe they can try again as friends and maybe be something more and something better.
but maybe it won’t ever be . maybe it’s too late for that and maybe all they can be, all they can ever be is just . civil to each other, and almost-friends, and almost in love
there are just . too many almosts and too many what ifs , and maybe that’s okay too , because the bottom line is that, for better or for worse , they will always always always be there for each other (or maybe not There For Each Other but just orbiting each other , so so close to something good but never Touching it because that just . won’t happen . not for them)
in which julian is a writer, and asra is his muse—
julian is a writer by trade, telling stories of his travels ("all true," julian says with a wink and a smile, "swear on my heart") and his misadventures. he performs at bars and on street corners, for the rich and the poor, for anyone that will listen.
and at the end of the day, when he comes home, and takes off his heavy boots and gloves, takes off his eyepatch and cape, takes off the roguish persona that he has crafted over years of work - julian sits down at his desk and begins to write.
because the stories don't write themselves, no matter what he claims, and even if they did, julian would write them anyway, just for how calming it is. he loses time in the writing, just sits and writes until he feels soft hands warm against his shoulders, kneading the day's tension from his muscles.
"hello, moonflower," julian mumbles, and asra sighs, bends down to kiss the nape of his neck. "hello, ilya. and how was your day?"
"too long spent without you, angel. i've missed you." and julian bites his tongue, because without even looking, he can tell that asra is smiling, fond and amused and indulging at him.
because julian even speaks in poems sometimes, telling asra how the words flow like spilling ink when he's around, that thoughts echo insistent in his mind until he opens his mouth and lets them tumble out, all words of how beautiful and perfect and ethereal and divine asra is
and asra just smiles ("there it is, that beautiful, cheshire moon smile," julian says) and shakes his head, because no, no one is perfect - even as julian takes his hands in his and insists that "yes, this is perfection, i am staring right at it, because you..."
(julian has never believed in any notion of a higher power, but when he looked at asra for the first time, he knew there had to be, because only the gods could create something so wonderful.)
that's how it started. julian worshipping asra's beauty, and asra indulging him. it's not love, but it could be - it looks like it to everyone else, and maybe it is love of a kind. julian's love of beauty and asra's love of attention, and the both of them craving the warmth and heat of another person's body.
(which is why, when asra leaves, and he takes all of his warmth and beauty and light with him, julian feels so empty. and he writes it, how he feels as if his soul has been cleaved in two, how the warmth of the sun no longer touches his skin, how all the colors in the world have turned to shades of gray.
if asra, his moonflower, the light of his life, hears of the stories passed around, of the broken author with his fractured heart on his sleeve and tears in his eyes, he does not say. there are better things to worry about, after all, than men with ink-stained hands and stormy gray eyes, with deep honesty in their eyes and stories on their lips.)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Asra/Julian Devorak
Characters: Asra (The Arcana), Julian Devorak
Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Masochism, Choking, Biting, Dom Asra is everything I have ever needed in my entire life, Topping from the Bottom, Sub Julian Devorak, Light Dom/sub, Stepping on Julian is The World’s Biggest Mood
Summary:
“You could have just asked.” His lips are brushing the shell of Julian’s ear, “You didn’t need to break in.”
“It’s n- haa-” The hairs at the nape of Julian’s neck prickle, “It’s not really breaking in if you lock the door again afterwards, right?” He tries a meek grin. Asra’s other hand fists in his curls, and it drops away into a broken groan.
———————————————–
*wraps the arcana fandom in arms with a beatific smile*
*leans backward and plummets over the chasm into hell*
previews of everything i’m working on
there is some nsfw under the cut, as well as allusions to character death
there are previews with pairings other than asrian, but asrian will always be the main focus
According to the calendar on the wall, Julian’s heat isn’t to start for another few weeks. It’s regular, surprisingly so, and it hits slow at first: a few days of him complaining about how hot it is around the house and clinging to Asra at every chance that he can. And then it’ll really start, building slow and steady before the heat and the hormones crash over like an ocean wave, and then it’s sex and sex and sex until whatever it is that makes the heat exist decides that enough is enough.
nadi: Come get Julian, his heat hit early. You should probably hurry
asra: omw
The front door is locked, but Asra’s been friends with Nadia long enough to know that pushing hard at the right side of the door while turning the knob quick makes it open. She’d been complaining about it for years, but never got around to fixing it, and for the first time, Asra is grateful for that. Because even from downstairs, he can smell Julian’s scent, something like the ocean breeze on a sunny day, something like warm vanilla, something like brown sugar - and then there’s the heat, making everything smell sweeter and sweeter.
But more than the scent is what he can hear. Because there’s something about the heat (the wanting, maybe, or the needing) that completely unravels Julian even more than Asra can on a good day, and there’s something about the heat that completely takes away Julian’s shyness. Which is why, as Asra takes the stairs slow and quiet, he can hear Julian whining and begging, for fingers and a knot and to be touched, please. And then there’s Nadia’s voice, quiet and amused and almost bored, as she says, “Convince me.”
x x
"There's something of a little tradition that the Horsemen have," Julian yells into Asra's ear, "that they'll pick a lucky fan to..." and here, Julian breaks off. Asra can't help smiling a little, because after so long, Julian still gets so easily flustered to explicitly say anything vulgar.
"To fuck them, Ilya?" And Asra doesn't have to yell, but Julian shivers anyway as he nods.
"It's really just Lucio. The singer-"
"I know which one Lucio is, Ilya." And before Julian can get too flustered, Asra lets their gaze wander towards the stage. "Have you ever been picked?"
Julian's face is pink now and he shakes his head.
x x
Julian doesn't know what he's expecting when they get to the hotel. His heart stays in his throat all the way through the lobby and up the elevator and down the hallway, and his he sucks in a breath when they finally get to Asra's room. It's a nice room, as most hotel rooms are, but all Julian can focus on is the huge bed in the center.
"Just one bed, huh?" he blurts out. Asra is toeing their shoes off, and they shoot him a honeyed, coy smile through their lashes.
"Why would I need more than one, Ilya?"
And oh. Oh, because Asra keeps their eyes glued on him as they walk backwards and seat themself on the edge of the bed. They don't demand that he come closer, or say anything - all they do is spread their legs, just a little, and they smile soft and sweet. It's an invitation that Julian very easily takes, coming closer, closer until he's standing between Asra's spread legs. Their hands come up to his waist, but they don't do anything else, not even when Julian leans down and cups their cheeks with his hands to kiss them again.
x x
Julian's breaths are coming quick and shallow now, and he doesn't know how, but he knows with certainty that he will die soon. He's not delirious, has full control of all of his functions, but when Asra stands, he reaches out blindly and grips their hand tight tight tight, choking on all the words that are bubbling up (and the flower petals that are threatening to spill out). Eventually he manages to say, "Don't want you to go."
"Ilya, I'm just going to make you some tea, okay? I'll be but a few minutes."
"Asra."
Asra frowns, and it's a moment of silence, but for Julian's ragged breathing. But when they speak this time, their voice is much softer, and they flash him a tired, acquiescing smile. "I won't go anywhere, Ilya."
And maybe Julian's stupid for hoping, maybe Asra's stupid for indulging him, but Julian doesn't care, not even when he feels the roots tangle tighter around his lungs. "Thank you, Asra."
Asra is only gone for a few minutes, just like they said, but they look years older when they come back bearing a single mug. "Ilya, you really do love me this much? Enough to die? There's nothing I can do to change your mind?"
"There's nothing."
Julian can tell that Asra wants to say something more, but all they do is settle by Julian's side, close enough to touch. "Drink, Ilya."
x x
"So, Ilya," Asra starts. They can't help smiling at the way Julian's whole body stiffens when they move even closer, and maybe it's a little bit mean, but Asra has always loved how easy Julian is for them. "How was your day? And your flight?"
"Good! Uh, good. I slept for most of the flight, honestly. I..." and here, Julian looks away, blushing pink. "The best part about today was seeing you for the first time."
"Oh, Ilya. You're so sweet," Asra says, and they mean it. They really, really do.
Julian immediately looks away, trying and failing to hide his pleased, flustered smile. "Thank you, Asra."
"So," And Asra is definitely being mean now, when they lean in closer, they rest their hand to the seam of his jeans. "Ilya."
If Asra weren't so close, they would've missed the way Julian's breath hitched, the way he stiffened, just a little bit. But Asra is that close, so they notice.
x x
"Say it," Julian breathes out. He's sososo close, muscles locking up and twitching already as his hips jerk up. And for how debauched he looks and feels, Asra is just as composed as they had been in the beginning. Julian wants to reach up and run their curls between his fingers, wants to smear their lip gloss with his own lips, wants to tug at their clothes and mark up their skin and make them feel hot and needy and just as fucked out as he feels.
But it's Asra, so they just give him a cheshire grin and skate their fingers along the length of Julian's body as they murmur, "Make me."
Julian feels the words in his gut, feels it through a shiver of heat, replays the words again and again in his mind. Asra must take his lack of answer as an answer, because they just laugh and shake their head.
"I don't know why I bothered asking, Julian. We both know who you belong to. Just like we both know that..." and Julian follows Asra's gaze down and down and down, holds his breath because he knows what's coming. "Pathetic."
The word should be humiliating, but it just makes Julian gasp, reaching blindly for Asra with his free hand. Asra just coos, leaning in like they can't see. "It's almost adorable, Ilya. So tiny and cute, your pathetic little cock leaking so much."
x x
"I'm so sorry," Julian whispers. His gray eyes are dark and stormy, and there is an eternity of mournful sadness in their depths. His hand trembles when he brings it up to touch Asra, gentle, almost disbelieving. First his cheek, then the scar on his neck, discolored purple like a fresh bruise. Julian's touch lingers exactly where the scar is deepest, even covered as it is, and Asra shivers.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you, all of these years, all of these lives. That's all I wanted to do - keep you safe. That's all, I swear it."
It's all Asra can do to even nod with how raw he feels right now. There's some emotion bubbling up that he doesn't even know how to begin to name, just that it begins and ends with Julian. He himself begins and ends with Julian.
And then, as if a string has been cut, Julian collapses at his feet. He's not crying, but Asra can feel his sorrow as if it were his own. "I'm so sorry," Julian whispers again. Asra sinks to a kneel as well, pushing aside the doubt that pervades the rational side of his brain for what he instinctively, intuitively knows to be true.
As dangerous as Julian may be, he would never hurt him.
x x
Everyone knows that the pretty boy with the delicate hands and the cheshire smile knows how to make people feel. Not just feel, but really feel, capital letters and all. He's got a bit of a reputation - not just for being pretty, but for his violet eyes and snow white hair, for his skin like sunlight on gold and his voice like sweet honey. People whisper his name under their breaths, call him a magician, a witch even, because he always knows. He makes people Feel.
When Julian steps into the witch-magician's shop, it's later than late, and though the front windows are dark, the door is unlocked, and there is a pleasing, smoky smell permeating the front room. Before he can call out, Asra appears, and it must be him. Julian registers first what he's been told - white hair and violet eyes and honey skin - and then he sees the jewel bright snake wrapped around Asra's neck and he almost squeaks. Asra must be a witch, he decides then, to have a creature like that touching him so familiarly.
"Good evening," Asra murmurs, and Julian falls in love. He's holding a mug that he presses easily into Julian's hands, and it is hot, the drink freshly brewed. "Follow me, Julian."
x x
Julian is here now, squinting up at the menu like he doesn't order the same thing every night, and Asra can't help smiling. "Large black, Julian?"
It shouldn't be cute, but the way Julian startles at Asra's voice makes them smile, and they don't bother hiding it behind their hand like they usually do. Julian smiles back, albeit sheepishly. "I didn't know you knew my name," he says instead.
"You come in every night, and you order the same thing," Asra points out, "Plus, you're not that hard to miss."
Julian blinks once and then again like he's processing, and then he smiles more genuinely, the quirk of his lips lopsided and beautiful. "I do, don't I? Though, it's funny, because I thought the same thing about you."
And, huh. Asra is used to people flirting with them, but this is the first time it feels genuine.
All they say though, is- "Thank you, Julian. Your coffee?"
"Large black," Julian says. Both the expression on his face and the smile on his lips shows how sheepish he is, and it makes Asra's heart thud in their chest.
"Of course, Julian."
As unprofessional as it is, when Asra picks up Julian's cup and a marker to write his name on it, they find themself fixated on a sudden idea, and after a moment's hesitation, they scrawl their number beneath his name.
x x
He's lying bare, his skin silk smooth and honey gold in the afternoon sunlight. From his place in the doorway, Julian can see the way the muscles in his upper back shift as if-
"You really are an angel, aren't you?" Julian asks. He says it mostly to himself, but Asra glances back to look at him, that familiar cheshire grin flirting with his lips.
"Maybe," is all he says in reply, and his eyes follow Julian as he comes fully into the room and settles on the bed next to him. He doesn't close his eyes until Julian reaches out, ever so carefully, every so gently, to touch. It's just the tips of his fingers against the nape of Asra's neck, and maybe that's why, but it makes Asra shiver, all the way down the length of his body.
"Well," Julian mumbles, "regardless, you're definitely my angel."
Asra hums and rests the side of his face against his folded arms again, smiling with closed eyes as Julian trails his fingertips down to the jut of his shoulder blades.
"May I?" Julian asks. Asra hums, and his smile grows as he nods.
Even though Asra knows what's coming, he still tenses when Julian shifts closer. "Angel," Julian whispers. He follows the curve of his shoulder blades, the length of his back with his fingers and lips, pressing kisses to where his wings would be and whispering praises to his skin.
could you do asrian smut with asra domming the fuck out of julian please and thank you
oh my goodness..
((can i try this hc format where i write out the main details of a plot in bullets??? cause its super helpful not having to write a Whole ass thing if it doesn’t specifically say drabble/oneshot/fic/whatever))
asra is such a smooth dom, uses sweet purrs and light encouragment to get julian to do whatever he wants.
might seem soft, but is really just melting his lover down to putty in his hands. any brat persona julian might feel like playing at the time fades and he’s compliant and eager and devoted to him when asra’s talks to him for a while
would never directly command julian to do anything, just asks julian if he’d like to do the filthiest things in calm, sticky sweet coos that send julian onto a whole different fucking planet
of course julian agrees and is the Best boy,, probably already halfway in subspace by then
will rub julian’s shoulders and kiss his neck softly and murmur in his ear, asking if wants to get fucked into the mattress like a two cent whore in that same sweet voice
they both know this is asra’s special way of Fucking Julian Up (as opposed to the rough, abrasive, degrading domming julian usually seeks from others) and my god do they both eat it up
even while asra has the doctor on his back, legs spread like a proper whore, he’s leaning into his neck and lickingsuckingbitingkissing while whispering praise and filth equally
as they get too close to keep the banter up, they both get physically rough
julian’s wrists get pinned above his head, asra starts spitting julian’s usual preffered petnames
(Whore, useless slut, my little fucktoy)
these are growls by now, and asra’s nails are digging into julian’s wrists and he wants to cry it feels so good
asra always tells him when he’s allowed to cum, and the whimpering man actually does start crying when asra gives him permission
asra breathily tells him he’s a good boy and that he did so well while he’s fucking him through it, building up to his own climax
always waits until julian’s cumming to to do same himself so he can feel it around his cock, asra’s fav thing is mutual orgasm especially creampies don’t@me
Asra was a witch. Well, he actually wasn’t a witch, just a magician, but people like to magic witchcraft, and magicians witches. Anyway, Asra was a witch-magician, and though he could do much more than just flip cards around, that’s what the people wanted, including the circus master. The circus master was addicted to him- addicted to magic, rather. Always the man came in shouting at asra to tell him his fate, and to make it good. Asra, of course, had no power over fate; however, he did have the power, as many people do, to lie. So he would tell the circus master, Lucio, that he was bending fate in favor of the man, then when the time came and whatever fate awaited him happened, he hoped it wasn’t I’ll. This, like all lies, did not always work and sometimes Asra was beaten for not providing the master with what he wanted. And this- this was Asra the Witch’s life.
Now for Julian, there was a different life. A life of running away. He had no master to control him– actually, he had his dear sister, Portia. His only master and his only friend. They ran the country side together, sometimes breaking the law, sometimes not. But they were together and for Julian, that’s all that mattered. After his first and only heartbreak he refused to find love anywhere else besides his family. And Portia, dear dear Portia, his only family, wanted to go to a circus. Wanted to see the beautiful woman the circus had acquired named Nadia. Nadia, the queen of the circus, treated with respect from even the circus master himself. She was the runner of the show, the main attraction, and yet not a single person would lay a hand on her. Oh, how Portia wanted to meet this woman. And what kind of a brother would Julian be if he let his own heartbreak get in the way if his sister’s heartache? So, with Portia dragging Julian along, they made their way to the nearest circus.
Circus De Arcana. This is where the famous Nadia lived, and where Portia ran and left her brother standing st the entrance like a lost puppy. He glanced around at all the people eating cotton candy and popcorn, hot dogs and kettle corn. And he stomach ached, ached like the emptiness in his heart- just kidding, it wasn’t that deep. He was only mildly hungry, but wanted a distraction from all the couples enjoying themselves and thought that a corn dog might do the trick. So with what little bit of money he had, he bought himself a pity-dog and sat alone to eat it, quickly realizing once the grease hit his stomach that it had been a mistake. So defeatedly, he threw the corn dog away and stood up, deciding he would make the most out of it. And, of course, what was the first thing that caught his eye? Asra the Witch.
Asra was just setting up. Faust, his familiar and singular friend, was watching him look in the mirror and debate between scarf or no scarf, scarf or no scarf, scarf or-
“Hello?” Asra jumped, yanking the scarf off, then spun around. The man, who was standing in n the threshold of the tent, was staring at Asra. Staring as if there was something on his face, which Asra knew there wasn’t. Perhaps, he wondered, this person was stunned by his white hair. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Or maybe it was the color of his eyes, he had been called a witch (in a quite derogatory way) many times because of it.
“Welcome,” Asra spoke finally, fearing that if he let the man speak he would be called names again. “I was only just starting to set up, I haven’t even out my prices out.” The man blinked, then shook his head as a warm pink began to bloom on his pale face. Asra understood now, and had to force down a smile. It had been a long time since someone had found him attractive.
“I’m sorry,” the man began, “I guess I’ll-”
“But!” Asra said quickly, not wanting to lose the only positive attention he had had in ages, “I suppose I could give you a reading for free, since you’re so eager.” The man blinked once more and remained silent. Asra couldn’t take it anymore, so instead of speaking he lead the man to the table and sat him down, allowing his touch to linger on the cold body for a moment. He wanted to take in as much attention as he could, he was starved for some positivity in his life.
Asra sat down on the opposite side of the table, putting his hands palms up on the wood.
“Let me see your hands, I’ve recently learned how to read them.” It was true, Asra had only just began reading hands because Lucio’s regulars had begun complaining about the card reading, about how every time they had a negative fate. Asra could only tell them that it was karma, that she was a cold, to put in their terms, witch. To which they respond that he was the real witch, and would sometimes hit him sometimes splash whatever drink they had (against Asra’s request) brought in. And though he was sure this one wouldn’t do that to him, he didn’t want to take any chances going against Lucio.
“That’s, uh, interesting,” Julian said, “so I just- I just-” he blinked once more, slowly. His heart was in his throat, yet in his stomach, in his entire abdomen it pumped. The magician was beautiful, tanned skin and pure white hair, lilac eyes and an ever so soft smile. Julian did not believe in love at first sight, never did, not even with his previous lover, but this- this beautiful person was making him question what he believed, everything he believed. And it made the ache in his heart grow tenfold.
“Just place your hands on the table as I am,” the magician, whom Julian assumed was Asra, said. Julian did as he was told, shifting his wide shoulders nervously. “It’s a very gentle process, just release your mind.” But Julian could not release his mind, he didn’t want to be touched gently. He was afraid to be touched gently, the last person to be gentle with him was his ex-lover. And Portia, she was never gentle, even in her soft moments.
“Good, good,” Asra said, closing his eyes. “Breathe with me.” This was all for show, for hand reading Asra didn’t need the man to clear his mind or close his eyes, but Asra thought it made the moment more intimate and personal. “Now, what is your name?”
“Julian,” the man answered. “Julian Devorak.”
“Well, Julian Devorak,” Asra ever so lightly slid his fingers down the man’s hand, his lengthy yet kept nails finding their ways to the lines. He tried to remember what each of them meant, but he was so excited that he could hardly think. Would this man, Julian Devorak, know he was faking if he lied? “This line says you’ll live a very long life, and this one..” he struggled within his memory, what did the other lines mean, “you’ll be happy, and this one…” he felt around looking for another line, then suddenly his nail came across a deep one, running long through the hand. This struck a memory chord, and he was able to identify it, one that made his heart flutter with jealousy. “This one says you’ll find true love, a deep passionate love that will last you your life time and on.” Asra opened his eyes, just to peek at the eye-patched man, and instead saw the one free eye staring down intently at his hands, still covered by Asra’s.
“True love?” he whispered, most likely to himself. Asra smiled, trying to mask the sadness.
“Wonderful isn’t it? You have the deepest love line of all of them. Oh, how I envy you, Julian Devorak.”
Julian shuttered at the sound of his name being spoken by the magician. This wasn’t love, he kept telling himself. It was impossible for it to be love.
———–
Constructive criticism is great!… but please dont be mean, this is my first time writing a fanfic like ever. Definitely my first one for the Arcana. I hope you like it!!! And tell me if I should write more!
Julian can’t tell quite what he’s thinking by the expression on his face, but then Asra smiles, and his whole face softens into that familiar endearment before he says, “Oh, Ilya.”
It's been just about three years since Julian met Asra, and Asra has never bitten him, not even once. Julian knows that he wants to , and there's even a part of himself that wants to be bitten - though that part is all too easily overshadowed by the lingering fear left behind, all thanks to Lucio. The rational side of Julian's brain knows that Asra would never, ever do anything to hurt him, but each time Asra places his lips to his neck, even just to kiss him there, a shiver runs through Julian's whole body and all of his thoughts change to run, run, run away.
And though Julian reassures him that it's okay, that it's really not his fault, all Asra can do is look at Julian with sorrowful eyes and give him a smile that is weak and pitiful.
But Julian does trust Asra, and all he can give is his blood, and his love, and his heart. And Asra seems to know that, because before and after he makes a shallow, sure cut on Julian's wrist where the vein is, he kisses the delicate skin, reverent. His lips are soft, and Julian can feel the awe and adoration in the simple gesture. Asra treats Julian like he is a treasure, and it only makes Julian fall - somehow, impossibly - even deeper in love.
And today.
Today isn't quite their anniversary - especially since they aren't quite dating, but Julian is sure that today is close enough to the day that Asra had saved him (neither of them are exactly sure, and neither of them quite care), and while Julian knows that Asra doesn’t care about grand gestures and things like anniversaries, he does.
Asra is so much, and every time Julian thinks of all that Asra has done for him, how he has cared for him, his heart physically, palpably aches. But they both know that all Julian can give, all he can really give to Asra now is his blood. And that is how Julian ends up, soul bared for Asra’s limpid gaze as he explains just why he has decided to let everything go, to give his body entirely to him.
As usual, Asra is gentle, one soft hand curling around Julian’s waist and the other resting carefully against his thigh as Julian settles in his lap. Julian can’t tell quite what he’s thinking by the expression on his face, but then Asra smiles, and his whole face softens into that familiar endearment before he says, “Oh, Ilya. ”
(Julian can feel how much Asra cares for him with those two simple words.)
“I don’t need your blood, not like that, if you want to force it just for…” and Asra shakes his head, at a loss for words. The cold of his hand wearing through the thin fabric of Julian’s clothes, but Julian holds still, far too used to the chill of his skin. “What you give me is so much more than enough already.”
“I want to do this, though. Please let me, Asra. Not just for you, but for me too. I know you won’t hurt me, you never have. I trust you completely, okay? For everything. You’d never hurt me.” If there is absolute conviction in Julian’s voice, it’s because he means it with his everything. Asra would never hurt him, not with this, not with anything else.
One of Asra’s hands - cold, always cold - comes up to rest feather-light against the sharp of his jaw, gently guiding Julian’s head to bend and expose the curve of his neck. Even just that action sets Julian’s blood to racing, but he deliberately places both hands on Asra’s arms to keep him there. When Asra breathes out, Julian feels more than hears how shaky it is, and though his gaze remains steady, Julian can tell how worried he is. He doesn’t know how he knows, he just - does.
“I want this,” Julian says again, catching and holding Asra’s gaze. When Asra moves towards him, his eyes, dark and dark and dark, reflect the light back towards Julian, and for an instant, he sees himself in their depths (or maybe that’s just wishful thinking, the hopeless romantic in him).
“Okay,” Asra replies, and though it’s whisper-quiet, there is so much love in that one word that Julian’s heart beats quick quick quick.
And then, each movement slow and careful and gentle, Asra brings Julian closer, tilts his head again (and Julian has never felt more vulnerable, more open, more raw in his life) and runs his lips against the line of a vein. The kisses are butterfly-soft, and Julian trembles at each one, at each wordless show of reverence. And it’s funny then, because after everything Asra has done, Julian feels he should be the one to worship his each and every action, but here they are, and Asra is the one treating him so delicately, so tenderly.
Even the bite itself - Julian is expecting it to hurt, just a little, because the other cuts always do. A brief spark of pain and then the touch of Asra’s lips to his skin, replacing the hurt with sweetness like Asra is wont to do.
But this - this is only light, and for the first time, Julian truly understands why humans willingly go to vampires. He is aware, faintly, that he can feel Asra’s teeth, needlepoint sharp and delicately curved, and that he can feel the pulse of blood as it runs into Asra’s mouth, but more than that, he feels the plush of Asra’s lips, and the grounding touch of his hands, and the familiar cool of his body. And even more than that, Julian feels connected. As impossible as he knows it to be, Julian can feel Asra. The pure emotions tumbling through his mind, all of the worries and fears slipping away only to be replaced with joy and shock and delight. He can feel how Asra feels about him, and almost immediately, Julian knows that it must be the same for Asra.
And then Asra pulls back, and that golden thread of feeling is gone. When Julian brings a hand up to his neck, he finds that the wound has already closed, and he watches Asra lick the smear of blood from his lips with tear-filled eyes.
“Ilya,” Asra sighs out, and there’s an endeared smile on his lips even as he reaches up to brush away the tears that fall when Julian tries to blink them away. He doesn’t need to ask, and Julian finds that he doesn’t need to say. He just knows that Asra knows.
But he says it anyway.
“I love you, Asra. I really, truly do.”
(And Asra doesn’t have to say it either - because Julian knows what he feels, felt that silver-bright emotion in his mind, but he says it anyway, too.)
An education project has Asra and Julian working together in the palace library for the first time in years. They’re determined not to make it end like old times.
