#myapprentice

[thearcana-sims]

This is one of the favorite screenshot from the game. I don't know what's going on...

[ilyasterisk]

The aftermath of the kiss scene in Lucio’s Book 7. ghost!Lucio version under the cut.

First fan art and fan fiction of him with my apprentice Celio! Poor boy got a lot more than he was expecting, clearly eyes aren’t the only thing Lucio can turn red. I’ve rewritten/transcribed the entire scene for my MC under the cut, you can find the alternate art at the end!

Ignoring the flip his heart gave at the suggestion, Celio mirrored Lucio’s own cheeky expression and proceeded to taunt him with a roll of his eyes. “Well, then. What are you you waiting for-”

Out of the corner of his vision there was a blur of white, red, and blonde. He had no time to finish his sentence or process what had happened. Suddenly he felt the unmistakable warmth that had been upon his cheek, now colliding with his lips.

He was still adjusting to the feeling of being lifted by the waist and spun excitedly by the now much more corporeal Count. There wasn’t much human contact he knew, other than sleeping beside Asra and coincidentally waking up in a tangle of limbs. This was alright, though, nothing he couldn’t get used to if Lucio was going to keep reveling in his new form by smothering Celio with it.

Unfortunately for the magician’s stoic facade, Lucio was a much more uninhibited current of joy and proceeded to crowd his lips onto Celio’s cheek. Stunned into place as he was let back down onto the snow, the dull rush of blood in his ears rose in volume and his eyes widened. Taking a step back, a smile of disbelief grew on his face. His eyes rose to meet Lucio’s own red stained ones, squinting to try and clarify the situation in his own mind.

It wasn’t long before he breathed out a chuckle. “Did you just-?” Tentatively raising his hand to feel the warmth still on his cheek, his gaze was fixed on the other man in front of him. “Kiss me?”

Lucio already seemed perfectly aware of what the question would be, hip cocked to one side and grin plastered on his countenance. He assumed an air of thought regardless. “Hmm. Pretty sure I did.” The answer was topped off with a salacious wink.

Celio dropped his hand and huffed out a breath at the forwardness that came next.

“Do I have to work harder to get kisses in return? I can do that.” There was a shameless flirty lilt to the Count’s voice now, sauntering towards Celio and gesturing with both arms as he continued. “I’ll just say it, Celio. You’re a lot of fun.” First time he had heard that one. He blinked and shut the jaw he only now realized was hanging open. “We haven’t known each other long, but you’re a smart, cute, hotshot magician. What’s not to like?” Lucio was no more than two feet in front in him now, each word dripping with sensual intent, yet sincere in attitude as his lips quirked.

The game of harmless flirtation was something Celio prided himself on recognizing at an instant’s notice. It was a trick learned from Asra to barter his way around the market, commonly engaging in it as practice at home. Straightening his posture, he raised his eyebrows and prompted Lucio to continue, prepared to rebut anything he would say by one-upping him.

“So… how about I kiss you properly this time?” Lucio ducked his head and a smirk graced his face again, hand resting on his hip.

Ignoring the flip his heart gave at the suggestion, Celio mirrored Lucio’s own cheeky expression and proceeded to taunt him with a roll of his eyes. “Well, then. What are you you waiting for-”

Out of the corner of his vision there was a blur of white, red, and blonde. He had no time to finish his sentence or process what had happened. Suddenly he felt the unmistakable warmth that had been upon his cheek, now colliding with his lips. Instinctively bracing his hands on the other’s arms and doubling back, Celio’s lips part in a gasp against Lucio’s own. Taking this as incentive, Lucio presses his body closer into Celio and wraps a cool golden hand into his blonde nape, his warmer right arm reaching around his narrow waist as his tongue slips onto the other man’s bottom lip and past it to meet tongue. Celio’s eyelids drift shut at the new sensation.

The stutter his heart had given before was now a full-blown riot in his chest, feeling every inch of Lucio’s front pressed into him. A cold breeze rushes past them both, making Celio grow aware of the burn in his cheeks and ears. He savors another ravenous swipe of Lucio’s tongue and finally shifts his face to the side for breath.

His hands had twined themselves into Lucio’s white lapels in the frenzy, and he stares at the Count’s smooth bare chest, drags of breath slowly returning to normal. Loosening his grip and dropping his shoulders, he finally raises his eyes again to gauge if he was the only frazzled member of the kiss. A first kiss for him, as far as his faulty memory was concerned.

Lucio’s eyes twinkled minutely before flashing the brightest smile he had since the two had met. “I’m terrible at waiting…” There was that incorrigible wink again. Celio found he was already used to it, leaning into Lucio’s gentle touch upon his reddened cheek. In both of their eyes was a yearning that had felt momentarily settled.

Touch.

It seemed the blonde had more to say, however, as he smoothed his golden hand down Celio’s shoulder, “and I love instant gratification,” down his flexed arm, “and I’ve been told that I move fast,” sweeping over his chest to rest on his fluttering heart, “but I like to think of it as seizing every opportunity for some good fun.” His lips flitted upwards at the corners as he stepped backwards from the other man, leaning against a tree they had somehow managed to miss in their fall through the realms.

The pose he assumes is utterly conspicuous, elbow resting to support his entire weight as he hooks one leg in front of the other. His chest becomes the main point of attention, gauntlet hooking into his lapel and drawing it out of the way. Celio’s face only continues to divulge his flustered thoughts, lit up in a crimson haze. As his eyes wander over Lucio’s form, he notices snowflakes landing and melting on the pale skin. Something spurs in him, competitive nature still not appeased from the checkmate he had been played.

Lucio’s next words flow like melted butter, playful nature bouncing off of each syllable. “You know, Celio, I’m also a generous kind of guy.” He quirks an eyebrow, rouge eyes opening and smirk ceaseless. “So… would you like more? I’d totally understand if you did. Just look at what a glorious specimen I am!” Underneath Lucio’s confidence, there’s a silent plea to have his own wish for more granted.

He had unknowingly given the brunette the perfect opportunity to play the best hand at his own game. Celio had already felt his entire body on him, mouth merging with his. There was nothing wrong with making him wait to be indulged with the touch he craved once again. Celio slowly lifts one foot in front of the other as he stares Lucio down. “Hmm… I’m not sure. That’s a tricky question.” Another step and a husky voice escapes his lips. “What exactly do you mean by more?”

With Celio’s eyes locked on him, Lucio’s smirk melds into a genuine and eager smile as he awaits his approach. “More of me, of course! The Count of Vesuvia, beloved ruler and valiant warrior.” As he speaks, his smile becomes toothy and proud, as if a little boy was bragging about winning against his friends. The stance he commands sells the concept, chest puffed out with fists resting on his hips. Celio’s predatory gaze falters as he takes the sight in, a silent huff of laughter escaping through his nose.

“You know, you look a little chilly for a valiant warrior.” Finally meeting Lucio at the tree, his hands drift upwards and begin to lace up the front of his white shirt, eyes trained on his deft work, carefully sliding his nails every so often over the skin.

Lucio’s smile falls and his eyebrows quirk into a nervous furrow, a breathless voice trying not to waver. “Hey, you’re not playing fair.” Celio keeps his head ducked and he eyes him through his eyelashes.

“What are you talking about? I’m making sure you don’t catch a cold.” There’s faux-innocence in the gentle smile he gives him, very aware of how soon Lucio will crack. Each shudder pulled out of him from Celio’s feather-light fingertips matches the growing intensity of Lucio’s gaze on him. He’s about to latch the final cord of the shirt onto the button when his wrist is grasped forcefully. Hand now splayed onto the chest he’d been avoiding, he watches as Lucio’s skin raises goosebumps from the contrast of human warmth to melted cold snow.

Celio straightens his neck, and Lucio’s promiscuous expression throws him off his own kilter, a mild blush tinting the Count’s face. “Oh, you’re so mean.” A tight-lipped smirk appears, and Lucio cants his face forward, a breath’s width away from Celio’s own as he purrs out, “and I’m alright with that.” He remains in his space, daring Celio to defy him as he focuses on the mouth in front of him.

The magician finally cracks as well, forgetting the game entirely as a grin spreads across his face and he leans in to meet his lips again. As he presses Lucio against the tree, he allows himself to savor the wet warmth he’d been too shocked to truly appreciate. Taking the initiative Lucio had before, he slides his own tongue onto Lucio’s and slips out a groan from deep in the other’s throat. Their arms tangle into each other’s clothing, covering every inch of surface they can manage, Lucio beginning to hike his leg up Celio’s thigh when another forceful breeze interrupts their session.

Lucio rips their mouths apart to scowl, and catch his breath. “I hate the cold.” He presses his face into the juncture of Celio’s neck and shoulder and smiles against the skin there. “Though it’s not so bad with you here.” Leaning back to reach for Celio’s hands, he coaxes them together in the space between their chests. A smile reaches his eyes as he blows on both pairs of hands in an attempt to warm them.

Celio takes a moment to marvel at the intricacy of the golden gauntlet, now that he’s become so intimate with it. The pulsing white veins call to him and he wonders if perhaps he could influence the magic there to act as a temporary heat pack. He opens his mouth to inform Lucio of the idea, when another harsh wind flies through the trees and rustles the resting snow on the branches above. Celio barely has time to react as Lucio twists away and shields himself, front remaining untouched but back entirely covered in the powdered ice.

“Ack! Pbbth! Rude, tree!” Lucio practically growls upwards at nothing as he shakes himself off like a wet hound. “Interrupting our fun…” He swipes at his cape, movements futile as the snow melts into his body heat. Celio manages a chuckle before stepping behind Lucio and leaning over his shoulder to propose a solution.

“Let me help. You’re going to get both of us all wet.” Lucio turns back towards him, and his demeanor placates as their eyes meet, waving an arm in invitation. Celio waggles his fingers, recalling the thought of heat magic to begin to skillfully evaporate the snow off of Lucio’s clothes. Reaching around his collar, the blonde presses his lips to Celio’s hands as he works, peppering fleeting kisses of gratitude and infatuation. As the magician lifts his hands to dry Lucio’s hair, he catches one of Celio’s wrists in an open mouthed kiss, laving his tongue over the heated skin. Celio startles and his magic fades, one hand tangled in Lucio’s hair and the other at the mercy of his teeth.

Lucio’s gaze is the very definition of coquetry as he drawls out a response to the bemused look in the magician’s eyes. “Don’t mind me. Just showing my appreciation.”

Celio sighs out the breath that had caught in his throat, eyes scanning the snowy expanse around them. “Riiiight. Of course.” Once Lucio releases him, he takes note of the flush that had spread to the Count’s chest as he steps away from the tree. He realizes that although they showed their dazed states differently, one seeking it out unrepentant and the other making effort to quell it; they were still very much both flustered at how entranced with each other they had become.

Through all of Lucio’s unpredictability, the promise of wanting more, regardless of how, seemed to hold. Celio’s eyes drift over the impossibly tall tree, and he locks away the thought that he wouldn’t mind sharing those promises if Lucio was safely returned back to the realm of the living.

His mind refocuses on the task at hand, magic overwhelms his senses and he’s happy to put away the thought of ever having kissed the Count as a meaningless moment in meaningless time.

Here’s the promised ghost version. If you took the time to read my first Arcana fic and made it this far, I can’t thank you enough and I hope you like it. <3

[prussian-sxnflower]

Rai

Body Language Tag

Bold what applies + tag at least one person

DEFENSIVENESS.

arms cross on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth (when defending someone he cares about) / hands on hips / side eye

REFLECTIVENESS.

hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off — cleaning / putting earpiece or glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand/ finger to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows / fiddling with fingers/clothing / faraway look

SUSPICION.

arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact /wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes / sass

CONFIDENCE.

hands clasped behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands/ baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders /tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back/arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo

INSECURITY & ANXIETY.

chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips/ hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat  / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging at pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands /playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer/marker/cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically / stuttering

ANGER & FRUSTRATION.

short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth /grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up – defensive posturing /clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales

Indirectly tagged by @ilyasterisk

I tag @nightingale-twins , @vlastomoist , @echoislonely because I don’t have any other friends lmao -

[thearcana-sims]

I’m not the best with editing but thought I would try and make my character with the help of thearcanapositivity post.

[ilyasterisk]

Celio Graeves, psychic bastard turned magical and medical apprentice

I did it! I finally caved in and created my first Arcana MC… this boy is a fuse waiting to be lit under his calm and moody exterior. Losing memories and not understanding why you can speak to the dead will do that to you…

Age: 25 LI: Lucio (former fling with Valerius, forgotten history with Asra)

Favorite meal: Paella Favorite drink: Black Tea, spiked Favorite flower: Petunia Zodiac sign: Scorpio

[ilyasterisk]

Celio the Apprentice Moodboard

"what are you waiting for?"

Playlist:

Celio Graves - Arcana Apprentice of Magik, a playlist by genitlk on Spotify

&quot;you can&#x27;t choose the monsters under your bed, but you can choose to love them&quot;

[ilyasterisk]

Celio

Body Language Tag

Bold what applies + tag mutuals to do the same in a new post

DEFENSIVENESS.

arms cross on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth (when defending someone he cares about) / hands on hips

REFLECTIVE.

hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off — cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows

SUSPICION.

arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact /wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes

CONFIDENCE.

hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands/ baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders /tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back/arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo

INSECURITY & ANXIETY.

chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips/ hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat  / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging at pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands /playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer/marker/cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically

ANGER & FRUSTRATION.

short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth /grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up – defensive posturing /clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales

tagged by @adelar-ward tagging anyone that wants to do this for their OC!

[ilyasterisk]

Tell us about your mc? :)

oh boy get strapped in nonnie, this is one Tragic Boi

Celio had an otherwise normal life, up until he was about 11. Well, as normal as you can be when you’re the child of a necromancing father who is adamantly against his son identifying as his son, and thinks it’s okay to keep the spiritual job a secret until he gets so scared of endangering his family he abandons them.

Momma Graves protects Celio from the reasons why he left, causing him to never let go of a building resentment. This anger keeps building with the stigma around his hometown, that the mother and child weren’t fit enough companions for the prominent father. Celio starts having night terrors and fits of rage, which begin to channel his magical predisposition. That magic unleashes his ability to hear and communicate with the dead, thanks to a certain someone.

Unexpectedly, once he begins to understand that power, it brings him great peace. He seeks out conversation and certain dead townsfolk help explain who his father really was. As a working teenager, heading out to the graveyard after his shift becomes a regular past time for him. The dead no longer pass judgement, and he finds comfort in speaking freely.

Once his mother catches wind of his ability though, it triggers her greatly, in fear of her child becoming just like his father. When Celio arrives home one evening, there’s guards waiting to take him away to a “rehabilitation center” and his mother explains that she’s doing the best she can for him, to try and protect him.

What his mother didn’t know is that where he’s going, they simply lock him up, isolate him from family or friends, and medicate him for using any magic. He feels useless and abandoned. At night, his magic seeks out anything, searching for a purpose. He begins having nightmares of a place named Vesuvia, plague-ridden, bloody, crying out for help. He never remembers when he wakes.

After spending a month in the locker, he creates a diversion and manages to escape, running away to the nearest ship and hoping his intuition will eventually guide him to where he’s needed. He begins to speak only when prompted, remains stoic in order to avoid further harm. Works the rigs, becomes a scrubber, and eventually lands in Vesuvia. When he meets Asra, a magician and proud of it, kind, open to understanding him, with his own unique relationship with gender; he figures he might be okay with making a new life in the city.

Every morning he wakes up, he repeats his mother’s name and hopes he never forgets her face, holding onto the hope he’ll find a way to see her again. Hoping she’ll be proud of the man he’s grown up to be, instead of terrified.