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cepheustarot · 2 days

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What awaits you in May?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: At the beginning of the month, you may have an unforeseen situation, force majeure, which will change your plans, which were supposed to be implemented in may but because of this situation the implementation will either be postponed or you will change your decision and do it differently. As I see it, for the most part you planned these plans together with other people, your family or friends but someone could change their mind at the last moment and refuse to participate or a strong quarrel may arise with someone. Naturally, you will be nervous because of unforeseen circumstances, thoughts may arise "why not give it all up, give up this idea" but as the cards show, it is better not to abandon the implementation here but to look for an alternative, since in the end everything will turn out much better than you imagined!

Also, this month the chance to change jobs or occupation / try a new hobby will be quite high as you will receive a good offer from a company or employer with good working conditions and a good salary/ rate per hour. However, your current employers may stop you, because they are afraid of losing you, you are a valuable employee for them and this can create small problems when you are fired. Also, if you are in business, your sales will increase significantly this month, you can make profitable deals with someone, invest profitably in some business. If you are studying, then you will also succeed this month but it is important to make an effort here since you may have strict teachers who are very picky about the answers or you can write tests where one mistake can lead to the loss of many points, so be careful!

Also this month, there is a high chance to meet a new person who will later become a good friend for you or, if you are looking for a relationship, will become a good partner. As I see it, you will spend a lot of time with each other, you will get to know each other, create joint memories, in general, you will be very comfortable and good next to this person. If you are already in a relationship, then this month is a good opportunity to strengthen your bond or resolve problems between you, establish a relationship and get closer, spend time together. You can also spend a lot of time with your family this month, in particular with your siblings.

Pile 2: At the beginning of the month, your problem which lasted for a long time will be able to be solved, you will finally be able to find a way out of the situation and thanks to this you will feel so relieved, weight has finally fallen off your shoulders, you will have a slight feeling of freedom, you can feel so confident as if you won the most difficult competition and took the prize! It can be anything, getting rid of debts, solving psychological problems, solving financial problems, overcoming a crisis, resolving a conflict with people — in general, something that has been burdening you for a long time. You may also have felt depressed and tired lately, felt like your mood was sad most of the time, it might be difficult for you to enjoy some little things and your condition will improve significantly this month. Here, in general, the rough patch will end, luck and happiness will accompany you in your life!

I also see that this month you will have the opportunity to change something in your life that will help you feel better, here the emphasis is that you would like to get rid of the past, of the memories that burden you: you can change your appearance, your style,change of scenery and go somewhere for a while or move altogether, change your social circle, hobbies, change your job / occupation, change the interior of the apartment, you can add decor, you can discover new places in the city, find new people, you can also change inside yourself, change your views — anything can happen here that can improve your mood and well-being.

This month you will also make new plans, goals and work on their implementation, here I see that you will definitely succeed since this will be something very important to you, you will be burning with the idea and strive to achieve what you would like, probably this motivation came to you after improving your well-being and it's very cool! Here you can study something a lot, try to figure out a topic, consult with others, improve your skills, even if you start something new, you will be accompanied by success and luck!

Pile 3: This month you may feel tired from the oversaturation of events in your life, from an overabundance of emotions, from being with people often, and here I see you can feel how your social battery has "run out". You will distance yourself from people for a while, spend time alone or with only a small number of people but in any case you focus on yourself and taking care of yourself. You can take a vacation at work or take a break, spend time doing things that bring you pleasure that calm you down and do not strain you, you will pamper yourself here and do what you want. You can also get tired of the hustle and hustle and go to some quiet place for you, often visit your favorite places and “places of power" that fill you internally.

And although I said that you will spend most of your time alone with yourself, I also do not exclude that you will want to meet with your inner circle, your loved ones may also meet and offer to go on a trip to small towns, you can spend time outside the city but away from the hustle and bustle. And if you agree then this trip will also be able to fill you with internal resources, improve your well-being, you will feel how your fatigue gradually passes and your head is free of obsessive thoughts.

At the end of the month, a situation will occur that will take you out of your inner balance: it will be unexpected, you will be required to quickly resolve the situation or do something in the shortest possible time, make a choice and naturally this can infuriate you. This may be related to work, for example, your boss will require you to do something urgently, make changes to the work, it may also be related to the family, there will be a heated dispute between family members and you will have to take someone's side, since it is difficult to remain indifferent in this case. In any case, it won't last long, you will get a grip and quickly resolve the problems that have overtaken you so you shouldn't worry too much about it.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

#tarot #tarot cards #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #pac #pick a photo #pick a picture

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iam93percentstardust · 1 day

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Are you still taking kiss-prompts? What about thigh kisses? 👀

More kiss prompts! Sorry it took me a while to get to this one; I've been busy these past few weeks <3

Tony’s building, the overpriced monstrosity that it is, has a rooftop pool where he had lured Steve by hinting that sometimes, he sunbathes there naked because, according to him, he doesn’t like tan lines.

“And your neighbors don’t mind you sunbathing naked?” Steve had asked.

“Please.” Tony had rolled his eyes. “Everyone there is just as rich and eccentric as I am. They have their own idiosyncrasies, and if I don’t want to be bothered I just pay them off.”

“Oh,” Steve had said. He thought paying off the neighbors to get some privacy was a little out there, but given that Tony was a billionaire’s son, trying very hard to get rid of his fortune, he wasn’t that surprised. He frowned. “You’re not eccentric.”

“Steve,” Tony had said, giving him a Look. “I sunbathe nude.”

Long story short, Steve had been unable to stop thinking about Tony stretched out on a lounge chair, miles of golden skin on glorious display, so when Tony had asked him if he wanted to spend the day at the pool with him, he’d jumped at the chance.

Tragically, when Steve got there, Tony was not stretched out nude in one of the lounges.

He is, however, wearing the tiniest pair of red swim trunks known to man. So small, in fact, that Steve isn’t sure they’re not secretly bikini bottoms from the women’s department. Not that Steve would complain even if they are from the women’s department. Dating Tony has opened his eyes to the benefits of his partners wearing what would traditionally be classified as women’s lingerie—albeit made for men—namely, that it’s very sexy and Steve would worship at the altar of Tony’s ass in black lace for the rest of his life if he could.

“Good morning, beloved,” Tony drawls from his floatie in the middle of the shallow end. “Imagine seeing you here.” He raises his eyebrow above his sunglasses and crooks his finger in Steve’s direction.

Steve makes some kind of noise, strips out of his shirt, heedlessly dropping it… somewhere, and dives in, traveling half the length of the pool before he surfaces right in front of Tony.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his hand around Tony’s ankle and tugging him closer so his gorgeous thighs bracket Steve’s head—exactly where he wants him to be. “I thought you were going to be naked.”

“It’s just such a beautiful day,” Tony says carelessly, but his stomach tenses under Steve’s gaze, betraying how affected he is by his nearness. “I couldn’t possibly be expected not to get in the pool.”

Steve hums and kisses Tony’s right thigh, sloppy and open-mouthed. Tony tastes like chlorine and sunscreen, and Steve ignores both of those in favor of leaving a livid red mark on his skin. Tony sighs sweetly, muscles bunching under Steve’s teeth.

“You’re a tease,” Steve murmurs, tilting his head in the other direction to leave a matching mark on Tony’s other thigh.

“Mmhmm,” Tony agrees breathily. “An absolute menace. That’s why Natasha thought we’d be good together.”

Steve chuckles. “Sweetheart, please don’t talk about Natasha when I’m kissing you.”

“You’re not kissing me,” he points out. “My mouth is up here, and until such a time as it’s occupied, I can talk about whatever I—mmph!”

Steve kisses him again and pulls him fully off the floatie, kicking backwards to pull them back out into deeper water. Tony wraps his arms and legs around him, clinging to him as they kiss again and again.

#stevetony #alle writes

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foreos · 2 days

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the bad kids rated by how much they would like sonic the hedgehog

a sequel to my hatchetfield version

- riz gukgak: 1/10 i don’t think riz even touches video games. i can’t imagine riz having any strong media interests because his life is so busy all the time so i doubt he would think about sonic the hedgehog at all. if he ever played a sonic game though i think he’d be like unnaturally good at it because he’s got great reaction times and it’s not hard for him to intuit what the best routes are. he’d probably only play in like a social situation though.

- kristen applebees: 10/10 kristen grew up playing sonic games with her brothers and she likes them. sonic is very very good for adhd brains and i think she likes running around really really fast. fucking AWFUL at the games though she has a dexterity score of four. she has never passed a quicktime prompt in her life but that does not stop her from booting up the games and playing the first three or so levels. doesn’t really engage with the media past the games but that’s just because if she had a comic book she��d lose it and while she watched some of the cartoons as a kid, it’s been a long time. probably hasn’t played in years.

- adaine abernant: 10/10 she did not know what sonic was until freshman year and at first she did not see the appeal. she’s never been allowed plain and stupid fun in her entire life and when confronted with it she’s just like…why? but i think as time passes i could actually see adaine really fucking enjoying it if she decided to suspend her disbelief and embrace it. i think in another timeline adaine is much geekier but much like the other bad kids she currently does not have time for that. there’s an alternate universe where adaine is a comic book nerd with sonic opinions but i don’t think any of us are ready for that. there’s probably other franchises she would possibly like better but i think she could get really into it.

- gorgug thistlespring: 0/10 video games frustrate him. his fingers are too big for the buttons and sonic moves way too fast. like kristen he cannot get past the first few levels and so he and sonic don’t really see eye to eye. he wouldn’t say he hates the guy or has anything against the franchise but he would probably rather do, like, anything else.

- fig faeth: 10000/10 i think fig would like it. while it does not match her aesthetic i think she definitely grew up with sonic games as a kid and is pretty good at them. definitely had to beat video game levels for gilear growing up. as i said earlier with kristen, sonic is very good for adhd brain and i think she likes to build as much speed as she can, plus sonic music is fucking dope and i think fig is a fan of stupid fun. sometimes fig finds herself wishing that he would go even faster, though.

- fabian seacaster: -100000/10 he’s scared of rodents and obsessed with being cool fabian does not like sonic. yes, i know sonic is not a rodent but like. fabian does not care that is a walking talking blue rat with one weird eyeball that has two pupils and he is wearing NO clothes. plus, sonic is considered deeply lame by the general public, especially high schoolers, so fabian would not be caught dead in even the same room where sonic-related activities are occurring. fabian goes out of his way to avoid any and all sonic media, which is a shame because when fabian was a kid bill seacaster impulsively bought Every Video Game so there’s probably a completed sonic collection somewhere in fabian’s house. like i think fabian owns sonic chronicles and tails’s sky patrol and sonic labyrinth and he has no idea. in another life fabian is a shadow fan.

BONUS:

- ragh barkrock: 1/10, like gorgug and riz he’s just not really a video game guy.

- ayda aguefort: 1000000000/10 she would fucking love it. she would love it so so so much. much like adaine i think ayda would be extremely geeky in another, less stressful life and i think if fig introduced her to it she would be all fucking in. comics tv shows video games, all of it. i think ayda would eat that shit up.

- cassandra: 10/10 blaze reminds her of kalina and she thinks it’s fun and i am desperate for cassandra to have fun.

- aelwyn: 0/10 absolutely not. she agrees with fabian that sonic is creepy and should wear clothes. she tries not to think about it, ever.

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #dropout #riz gukgak #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees #adaine abernant #fig faeth #fabian seacaster

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save-a-forest-ride-a-bear · 2 days

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🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ Masochism Tango ❛ ✧

Featuring: Gortash x Durge! Reader

Not proofread!

# Notes: cw for descriptions of violence and gortash being a freak. also as usual with my drabbles, no use of "y/n" and I try to describe the reader's dialogue and actions as little as possible

He'd be lying if he said he didn't decide to throw a ball only for the slim possibility of them showing up.

They hated him. That much was obvious. He could see it in their eyes during the coronation — that burning wrath and bloodlust that always made him weak in the knees. He couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking of. Maybe slashing his throat open, only to lap up the blood with their tongue. He hoped so. He revels in their aggression, even when it's directed towards him. Especially when it is.

The first hour of the ball was excruciating — having to pretend he cared about whatever the rest of Baldur's Gate's bourgeoisie were yapping about while apprehensively looking around, searching for the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.

Just when he was starting to lose hope, he spotted them in a corner. The sight alone almost made him groan. Gods, how could they look even more beautiful, all dolled up just to see him. Or so he hoped, at least. He had to fight back the urge to just shove everyone out of his way, to go over to them and...

The band began to play before he could finish his thoughts, and he took that as the perfect opportunity. He sauntered over with confidence and elegance, ignoring the other guests with his eyes focused solely on them. Their little friends were nowhere to be seen, either. Even better.

They seemed uncomfortable, restless even, their fingers twitching slightly. Probably aching for their blade, he thought, and a grin formed on his lips. It's been so long, but they haven't changed a bit. He reached out, gently wrapping his fingers around their wrist and pulling them towards him before they even noticed his presence to slim the chances of being rejected.

"Good evening, my dear. I was starting to think you wouldn't come. Care for a dance?" It was supposed to be a question, but he didn't make it sound like one. He knew they'd say no, so he had to make it clear they didn't have a choice — just the way they were looking at him right now made it clear they were currently fantasizing about bashing his head into his neck. He smirked at that, dragging them firmly but not forcefully with him towards the dance floor. He wanted them angry — wanted them to want to hurt him.

He placed a hand on their waist, the other intertwined with theirs as he waltzed with them to the soft ballad playing in the background. "I rather missed this, you know. You used to be a most splendid dance partner, my treasure." He whispered, gazing deeply into those beautiful, livid eyes of theirs that seemed to bewitch him all the same as they did in the past. He didn't tell them the exact nature of their old relationship, but it was very much implied. He knew they could put two and two together.

Losing them hadn't been as easy as he desperately tried to pretend it was. He tried to pretend it didn't bother him, that it was just business as usual, that his heart didn't ache at the thought of never seeing them again — but whatever happened between the two flourished into something much deeper than he'd care to admit. And then, just when things were going well, they vanished. Just like that. They vanished and left him behind, alone, with Orin of all bloody people supposed to replace them. As if she could even hold a candle to them.

He tried his best to lie to himself — it was a good thing they were gone. They were making him soft, weak. He couldn't afford any distractions. And he actually believed those lies for a while. You can convince your mind of almost anything if you repeat it enough times.

But no amount of self-inflicted dishonesty could help ignore the flutter in his chest when they walked into the coronation room. He was almost giddy — even while trying his best to act professional, anyone could see that if he had a tail, it would be wagging at that moment. But after confirming they had lost their memories, a rush of conflicting emotions washed over him. On one hand, they didn't remember him. Didn't remember what they shared together, didn't remember his touch. On the other, this was his chance to finally try again — to make things right. World domination be dammed, it's not worth ruling over without them to share the throne with him, and it took losing them to realize that. They left the coronation without giving him a clear answer to his proposition to kill Orin, and that was that.

But now they were here — in his arms once again. Well, technically not yet, not entirely at least, but it was just the beginning. And he wouldn't stop until they were his again, body, mind and soul.

A small cackle escaped him as they purposefully stepped harshly on his foot, clearly trying to confront him without causing a scene. "You look awfully tense, my dearest. Almost as if you want to dismember me. You'd rather like that, I wager." He mused, spinning them to the rhythm of the song before pulling them back against him. "If you managed to, I imagine it would be quite the spectacle. A thrill, really. But you can't live without your tyrant, can you?" He taunted, the smirk on his face never fading.

"You still have that fire in you. I missed it." He admitted, leaning in to whisper so that his words were for their ears alone. "But we both know I'm not afraid of you, dearest. If anything, you're the one that should be concerned." He motioned around vaguely, eyes never leaving theirs. "I control this city. One wrong move, and I'll have my Steel Watch take care of you. That would truly be a shame, would it not?"

The threat was empty, of course. He had no plans of harming them, no matter what they said or did, but he always quite enjoyed pushing their buttons, seeing what makes them tick, how much it takes for them to break.

He pulled them closer, pressing them flush against his chest, lips grazing their ear. "So why don't you try that again? Threaten me. Hurt me. Say you'll kill me if I don't do as you say. I promise I won't run away." He breathed out, his hand reaching up to caress their cheek gently, pulling their face towards his. "I'll beg for it. Crave it. Just as I always did. Show me how much you hate me, my treasure. Remind me of our history."

There was an unmistakable twinge of desperation in his voice. He needed this in ways he never needed anything else in his life — needed them to crave him, to hurt him all over again, to make him bleed. It was a yearning so strong he was sure it would swallow him whole. Which is why he pressed his lips against theirs despite his better judgement to keep teasing, keep pushing. He couldn't wait any longer.

What he wasn't expecting was the reciprocation and much less the harsh bite on his lower lip, strong enough he could taste his blood on their tongue. He moaned into their mouth, hands settling on their hips to pull them even closer. He did miss this.

It was hungry, sloppy, open-mouthed, but he still found it perfect. One hand rose to cup their cheek, and when they finally parted, gasping softly for air, he brushed it against their lower lip, smearing the remains of blood before slipping it inside their mouth. "That's better." He whispered, his voice husky. He felt their tongue against his digit before their teeth once again sank down on his flesh, and he groaned with a grin.

"Let's find somewhere more private, my pet. I believe we have some catching up to do."

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #enver gortash #gortash x reader #lord enver gortash #gortash x durge #durgetash

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centrally-unplanned · 4 hours

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I have been seeing a bunch of buzz recently online about a possible "decline in value" of the ivy league+ degree - Nate Silver didn't start it but he certainly accelerated it. And while there is nothing robust you do see things like surveys of hiring manager opinions out there to suggest its possible, its not a crazy idea even if its far from proven. So assuming its real, why would it be happening?

1: This discourse is obviously happening because of the recent protests at top US schools - essentially its the idea that elite students are hyperpolitical, coddled, and out of touch with reality. This causal path should be very, very silly. The vast, vast majority of students at Columbia are not protesting. They don't really care about this topic! Sure, if asked, they agree Israel Bad Right Now, but otherwise they are busy with finals and job apps. This is of course equally true at most other schools, its just not a mass movement in that way (protesting to be clear rarely is). This is a specific instance of the general trap of selection bias - the visible students aren't the median ones.

Stacked on top of that is the second level of selection bias - the median protestor is not a business major or engineer! They are exactly the kind of students for whom being a politically engaged activist is *good* for their career, not bad, or at least neutral. Schools produce a large diversity of career outcomes, and those students self-select on how they spend their time, there is no "median" student to observe really.

And ofc all of this has to rest on the foundational reality that people are products of their context - jobless 20 year old's surrounded by young peers protest a bunch, that is what that context produces. The large majority of them will become mortgage-paying white collar workers by the time they are 30, this identity will not stick with them. If they become political activists it will, sure! But if you are the hiring manager for Palantir this isn't going to be the trend for your hires. There are "politically liable" hires out there but you aren't going to predict them via the sorting algorithm of "was at Columbia in 2024", that is for sure.

Now, as much as this is a silly idea, humanity are zeitgeist creatures - I can't actually reject the idea that, despite it being silly, hiring managers might use this moment to feel like they are "over" the Ivy League and start dismantling the privileged place their applications currently get. Cultural tipping points are vibes-based, and amoung elites (unlike the masses, who don't care much) Israel/Palestine has an awful lot of tense vibes.

2: Still, I don't think this is explaining those survey results people are throwing around, and I don't think its explained (very much at least) by the general "woke uni" trends of the past half decade. It is instead downstream of wider trends.

There was a time where companies really did want "the smart guy". You could major in English at Harvard, write a good thesis on Yeats, and be off to the trading desk in Chambers St two weeks after graduation. Those days are over - for complex reasons we won't get into - and nowadays people expect their new hires to be as close to experts in the field as they can manage. Students have internships, consulting clubs, capstone projects with real clients, specialized sub majors, the works. These are all ways of saying "signaling quality" has gotten more legible and more specific over time. Why would I choose a Harvard English major over a University of Illinois finance major who did a research internship with our specific Chicago firm on midwest agricultural derivates markets? Students like that exist by the bucketful now, and the Ivys cannot monopolize them. Partially because they choose not to; Columbia could actually say fuck it and make its school 90% finance majors, but they don't want that, they specifically recruit intellectually diverse students. Which means State School finance types will fill the remaining slots slots.

The other reason they can't monopolize is much simpler - numbers. The US has way more "elite" jobs today than it did in the past. Programmers and their adjacencies are the biggest growth sector, but everything from doctors to analysts to lawyers is all up up up. And do you know what isn't up? Undergraduate enrollment at elite schools! Columbia's has grown by like 10% over the past 20 years; Harvard's is essentially unchanged. For, again, reasons, these schools have found the idea of doubling or tripling their undergraduate enrollment, despite ballooning applications, impossible. Which means of course Microsoft can't hire from Stanford alone. So they don't, and they have learned what other schools deliver talent, and no longer need Stanford alone. The decline of Ivy Power is in this sense mathematical - if a signal of quality refuses to grow to meet demand, of course other signals will emerge.

I therefore personally think, while minor, the Ivy+ schools are experiencing declining status, have been for a while, and will continue to do so (though there are offsetting trends not mentioned here btw). But its structural way more than cultural.

#Do not take anything here as a moral/value judgement of any specific group of course - its all from the analytical lens

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tangerinesgirl · 1 day

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Pull Some Strings

Fem!Reader x Frank/Adam Barrett (Abigail)

Word count: 1.1k

Rating: 18+, explicit

Warnings: smut, denied orgasm, GodComplex!Frank, JOI, degradion, Frank swearing a lot (as usual), pet names, vaguely non con if you squint bc mind control

Summary: You've been flirting with Frank the entire evening. He tests his new vampire powers and turns you into his puppet. Things get freaky.

Notes: this seems too good to not have been done before, I did have a search beforehand so I'm sorry if it does exist! We need more Frank smut ASAP! Also, reader has nipple piercings in this and there's use of Y/N.

You jump awake with a burning hot pain in your neck. You reach to touch the wound but you find nothing there. Memories start to play in your mind, how Frank willingly accepted the offer to be turned into a monster, while you sat on the floor helpless. You were heartbroken that he could turn into a traitor like that, after the two of you fighting so hard together, but the other part of you couldn't keep your eyes off him, seeing him covered in blood, moaning as Lambert gave him his new life. You watch in horror as he stakes Lambert through the heart, you try to grab the shelf behind you to get up, but Frank stamps on your arm, breaking it instantly. You scream as he pulls your hair, exposing your neck to him.

Frank whispers in your ear, "I'm going to make you my puppet, and we're going to have a little fun". You whimper as he pecks a little kiss on the side of your mouth, and dives his teeth into your neck. You can feel yourself getting colder, your body twitching as you loose consciousness.

"Y/N....you are mine"

The sound of Frank's voice lures you back awake. You're in a bedroom somewhere, but you can tell you're still in this god forsaken house. "Oh good you're awake". You look around the room instinctively trying to find the source of the voice.

"What's going on?"

"Keep up sweetheart, did you not pay attention to what happened to Sammy? Or were you too busy trying to get me to fuck your brains out?"

Your mind jumps back to how you flirted playfully with Frank the whole evening. The car ride where you were zipping your hoodie down to make your breasts pop out. When you brushed past him to open the door. The way you would look at his lips, and chew the bottom of yours every time he gave the crew orders. You found him very attractive, and the dominance was a huge turn on for you.

You sit next to him at the bar in the house, "You know, I'm very much into the hot boss scenario". Your hand brushes against his as you reach for your drink. In a split second, Frank pins your hand to the counter and grabs your neck with the other one, "You're really going to flirt with me when we have bigger fucking problems right now?"

Everyone in the group stares at you as you go bright red from embarrassment. You decide to roll with it, liking how agitated Frank is getting at your advances. Afterall you've nothing to loose, no one will know your true name after this. You moan loudly with a "oh yes, harder daddy". Frank lets you go in disgust. He spits out a "fucking whore" under his breath. You hear him and giggle, "only for you" and blow him a kiss as he walks away.

Your mind snaps back to reality. "I know how you like being told what to do, and I'm curious to see if this actually fucking worked first time... So...Frank says, take off your hoodie". You immediately unzip your hoodie without a moment's thought, "What the fuck?"

"Frank says undo your bra". You do as he says, part of you is very much into him finally reciprocating what you've been putting down the whole evening, even in these circumstances.

"Frank says play with your nipples". You moan as you grab your breasts and tug gently on your nipples.

"Wait I can feel something cold...do you have piercings? That's fucking hot... Frank says undo your belt". The belt clinks to the floor, you can somehow tell that Frank is doing the same, wherever he is.

"Frank says undo your buttons". You unzip your jeans, and dip your hand in further, you can feel the wetness growing in your underwear as you try and find some kind of friction.

"Frank says stop. Frank didn't say to do that now, did he?"

You shake your head.

"Use your words"

"No"

"No what?"

"No sir"

"Good girl. Now. Frank says to circle your fucking clit. Slowly"

You moan softly, it's painful for you not to do anything else right now.

"Frank says stop"

The slow orders are making you impatient, you need more of a release, "please".

"Please what?"

"I need more"

"Then you fucking wait"

You can feel Frank playing with his cock, it pains you that you can't see, but you can feel him growing hard, the pre cum on his hands. You can even hear his subtle moans as he palms himself.

"Frank says dip your index finger into your pussy".

You sigh in relief as your hand finally enters you.

"Frank says insert another finger"

You fuck yourself open, Frank can hear the sound of your wetness and swears under his breath.

"You sound fucking soaked, the sound of my voice gets you this wet huh? Now...play with your clit".

You start to do so and Frank laughs, "Frank didn't say "Frank says" now did he?"

You cry out in agitation, "Frank please".

"Nah ah, what do you call me?"

"Sorry, sir"

"That's better baby. Frank says touch your clit"

You can feel yourself getting closer, Frank can too. "I'm going to cum Fr-sir, please can I cum?".

"Frank says stop"

"No!" You whimper as you pull your hands out of you. Denying you of your orgasm makes Frank's come quicker, the power over you as well as being a newly turned vampire makes him feel like a God. He takes off his shirt as he starts to cum on his chest. You can feel the hot liquid on your chest too. Your hands feel around but there's nothing there. You're really pissed off, but still very much aroused. Frank moans as he continues to empty himself on his chest, it seems to last forever. As he finally comes to a stop, he lets out one last big moan. "Do you want to taste?"

Part of you wants to give him the silent treatment for the way he just used you, but you say "yes sir" like the good puppet you are.

Frank takes a finger of his cum off his chest and wipes it on his lips. He licks it up with his tongue. You can feel the taste slowly seeping into your mouth, you bite your lip and swirl your tongue around, lapping up every invisible drop. It's salty, with a hint of iron, but oddly creamy at the same time.

"I think that was a pretty successful test, wouldn't you say, Y/N?"

You finally find your backbone after Frank and his stupid voice turned it into mush, "Fuck you".

"Oh I will, right after I kill me a vampire"

#frank x reader #frank (abigail) x reader #fanfic #abigail #movie #dan stevens #adam barrett #adam barrett x reader #horror #vampire

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roomsofangel · 7 hours

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LOVER, PLEASE STAY

chapter four

synopsis you and wooyoung have been best friends for as long as you could remember, always overcoming everything in your friendship even after a few bumps in the road and confessions in the past. you could always trust that no matter wooyoung will always be there, right?

wc 4.3k

chapter warnings mentions of drug usage, wooyoung and yn have an argument / wooyoung breaks down

a/n the fact i update this either everyday or every other day… but hope you guys dont mind </3 the next update will be a little slower due to work and trying to bag these ateez tickets with my partner 🙁

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ♥️

“something’s wrong with wooyoung," san mentioned one morning while handing you a dish from beside you that you started washing. you shifted your gaze away from the sink and water and towards him as he leaned against the counter. his side pressed on it a bit more as he continued, "i don't know... but, you notice it, too. don’t you?" his breath came out in an exasperated exhale as he waited for your response.

you gazed down, wanting nothing more than to just focus on how the warm water poured on your hands. the moment was quiet for a few minutes, and your mind raced with all kinds of thoughts. the uncertainty, the silence, and the tension between you and wooyoung recently that was becoming more apparent with every passing day. the strain was starting to wear on you, and that was obvious to everyone around you. “it’s hard not to.” you finally answered after a few minutes of silence, and your voice was solemn and tired.

san frowned at your response, and his expression became more concerned. you could sense the distress in his voice. "do you think we should intervene? what if he ends up like—?“ he started to say, but you interrupted him.

"don't." you said, and your tone was firm. you knew what he was going to say, and you didn't want to hear or think about it. your mind was already spiraling enough, and you didn't need him adding more to it.

san remained silent, looking at you with a mixture of concern and confusion. "but what if..." he began to say but stopped himself, realizing that you already knew. you had already considered that possibility, and it was not something you wanted to think about any further.

“just drop it, okay?" you said, your voice more firm than before as you tried to stop the spiral of thought that was quickly starting to take hold.

san sighed, and the silence that followed weighed heavier than before. "i talked to seonghwa too, you know," he mention. the statement felt somewhat out of place and sudden, and it only added to the tension that surrounded you both. you could sense the strain and stress building up in his words, and you wondered what else he knew or had heard.

"he's worried," san continued, "and so are the rest... they know something's up too. all of them do. but if they ask me, i don't know if i should tell them or not. i mean, it's wooyoung’s own business. i can't just let the secret slip, but.." his voice trailed off, and he let out a long, tired exhale.

"...that’s exactly the problem," san continued, "it’s his own business, but we're all worried about him. i mean, he hasn't been himself for a while now. he’s more reserved, more distant, and there is this strange tension between him and the rest of us. like he's hiding something, or he's just... not there. not fully there."

when you finally became aware of your grip on the dish, the dishes in front of you had already become clean. you were so lost in your thoughts, your head overflowing with memories and worries, that you had failed to notice the mundane task you were supposed to be doing. "i know.." you whispered, because you did. and it pained you that you couldn’t do anything but watch wooyoung destroy himself, or at least that's what it felt like.

"and... and it hurts," you continued softly, as if the admission was too painful for you to keep silent any longer. "it hurts to see him like this, to see him become something... someone that he's not. to see him shut himself off from all of us, to close himself in his own world and not let anyone else in. it’s painful and exhausting."

"he’s like a shell of himself," you went on. "i mean, he's still wooyoung, but... he's not at the same time. and i know i shouldn't say this... but it feels like we've lost him. like the wooyoung we all knew is gone, and there's just... this shell of a person left."

san nodded as he listened to you. he saw the pain and worry in your eyes, and he knew that you needed reassurance. so he held his arms out for you, inviting a hug. "it’s gonna be okay," he tried to reassure the both of you, but he didn't seem so sure himself. it was clear from his tone that he was just as worried, just as unsure. but he needed to remain strong, he needed to believe that things would work out. after all, it had to.

you laid in your bed, staring up at your ceiling and reminiscing over memories. they were just that, memories. it felt like ages ago, it felt like a whole different world. you were weeping over someone who was still alive, and it made no sense. how did you mourn for someone who was still standing in front of you, with a heart still beating? with a breath still being taken at regular intervals? with thoughts that were still running through their head, and feelings that were still taking place in their veins?

you tried to ignore the tears that were threatening to pour at any moment. everything in your room was a reminder of wooyoung and who he used to be. you could see him across the hall in his own bedroom, but...was that really still him? his demeanor seemed to have changed so dramatically that it no longer resembled the person you fell in love with initially. he was becoming someone else, someone you didn't recognize. and you didn't know if you could handle it anymore.

hearing your phone buzz, you shifted to your side to grab it and take a look. it was hongjoong’s text, asking if you wanted to come to see a movie with him and seonghwa. you recalled the last time you spoke with him, and remembered the intensity of the conversation. sure, he was deeply worried about you and was telling you things you needed to hear that night. but it only made you want to hide more since it meant you had to acknowledge more that you and wooyoung were no longer the same.

you wanted to continue living in the blissful bubble you had created where the two of you were fine, and nothing had changed. but the more time you spent in that space, the more the realities of the situation began to sink in, and the more the cracks in your bubble started to appear. so you avoided talking about the truth for as long as you could, until it got to the point where you could no longer deny it.

“that’s your problem, yn!” hongjoong looked at you with a concerned expression as he stood in front of you with san and seonghwa who matched the same energy. they had seen the situation unfold before enough times to know better than to intervene or get in the way when hongjoong was like this.

as he continued, he spoke louder, like he was trying to get through to you. "you give yourself away to people who keep shoving those parts of you back into your hands," he ranted, becoming more frustrated with each word.

you looked at him with teary eyes, knowing the truth but not wanting to face it. “i know this isn’t what you want to hear but you need to hear this, yn. because i don’t know if you know this but putting a light inside the house your soul died in will not stop it from haunting you.” hongjoong looked at you and his words hit deeper than you expected

"you need to let that light go," he continued, his voice becoming even more impassioned. "you need to let go of the pain, the anger, the sadness, and the guilt that you've held onto for so long. you need to come to terms with the fact that the house is empty, the light is gone, and it is time for you to move on."

when you stopped denying the truth, you began to see things clearer. hongjoong was right, you knew. "you need to let that light go," he had said, but the light he was referring to wasn't a literal one. it was... wooyoung. your best friend was the light you needed to let go of, to come to terms with the fact that it was gone and that you would never get it back.

"you’ve been hiding behind it for too long, too scared to let go," hongjoong persisted, "because if you let go, you would have to face the darkness that has clouded your mind, the feelings that you've been avoiding and refusing to acknowledge. it will be painful, it will be difficult. but it's the only way for you to truly heal."

you remained frozen in silence as hongjoong continued to speak, his words hitting home and piercing you with a truth that you had been actively avoiding. he was right, everything he said was true.

"hongjoong, that's enough," seonghwa’s gentle voice cut through the tension, calling for the confrontation to end. you glanced up and saw his reassuring hand placed gently on hongjoong’s shoulder.

"she’s dealt with enough," he continued. "she doesn't need to hear more, nor does she need to listen to any more harsh words."

as you spoke, your voice became thick, choked by the lump in your throat. "i just... don't want him to think i gave up on him."

"i don't want wooyoung to think i didn't give it my all..." your voice trailed off as you began to choke up. "but i..." you stopped, unable to continue as your tears continued to flow. "i just," you sighed, "i can't give up on him."

your voice cracked with every breath you took, and the tears continued to flow as the pain of realizing how impossible the situation had gotten began to sink in. "i know... i won't... give up on him," you whispered through your sniffles, your throat tight and your heart heavy.

later that night, you were cleaning up around the living space when you saw wooyoung stumbling in, clearly just waking up. you spoke softly to show that you knew he was there, and he grumbled in response. you exchanged a glance with him, noticing his disheveled appearance, and the dark circles under his eyes.

"are you alright?" you asked softly, his response was a grunt, followed by another grunt as he proceeded toward his room without a word. you followed him with your eyes, feeling guilty for asking him anything at all.

you watched as he stumbled back into his room, and a pang of guilt stabbed your heart. you knew he was going through a difficult time, and here you were asking him if he was okay. of course, he wasn't. and you knew that. but what else could you have done? you wanted to speak with him, to see him, to try and be there for him. but he didn't want to speak with you.

after he went into his room, you slowly continued cleaning up the shared space. you couldn't quite bring yourself to go to bed yet, even though you were exhausted. you took care to make sure things were as tidy and clean as they could be, despite the mess that was in your mind. your heart continued to ache with guilt and sadness for your best friend, and you wondered if there was anything you could have done to help him.

you decided to try one more time, gathering your courage and taking your time to slice his favorite fruits like you always did in the past when he was sad. you made your way into his dark room and saw that it was a mess, but you ignored the clutter and scattered clothing. you simply placed the plate of fruit on his bedside table and made a quiet retreat, just leaving the plate of fruit with him and not trying to talk to him again.

as you prepared to exit the room, your eyes scanned the entire space. your heart skipped a beat as your gaze landed on the small ziplock baggie in the corner. you tried to ignore it and pretend as if your mind was playing tricks on you. but you knew that it was real. you saw the tiny powder-like stains beneath the baggies, and you knew that it was more than just a reflection of the light.

you couldn't ignore the small pile of bags on the nightstand. instead, you found your eyes drawn to them, watching the glint of light off the powder-like stains beneath them. you knew what this was, and a chill ran down your spine as you finally accepted the truth. wooyoung's struggles were evident in the things he kept so hidden from you, the substance he kept close by.

it suddenly became very clear to you why wooyoung had been acting the way he had lately. his secretive behavior, the late nights, the withdrawn attitude. everything made sense now.

the truth hit you like a wave of ice-cold water. wooyoung had been using drugs. you had been blind to the signs and the warnings, but this was the confirmation you had been avoiding. and now, you couldn't avoid the reality anymore.

the shock slowly turned into sadness, like a weight settling in your stomach as you stood there, staring at the baggie of drugs on his nightstand. you were numb, frozen on the spot as you processed this revelation. wooyoung had always been so responsible, so sensible, so protective of you. never in a million years would you have imagined him turning to drugs to cope with his problems.

as you were about to leave the room, you were caught off guard by the sudden sound of wooyoung's voice. "you're... not supposed to see those," he rasped out, sounding exhausted and annoyed. you jumped a little at the sudden sound and his harsh tone, feeling like you'd been caught red-handed even though you knew you had every right to go into his room.

he sighed and sat up slowly, the mattress squeaking beneath his movement. "they’re just for me," wooyoung said in a low voice, his tone turning defensive. "they... they help me... cope," he continued, his voice trailing off at the end as he looked away from you. you noticed how he avoided your eyes, instead focusing on the floor below.

wooyoung’s words hung heavy in the air. they were clearly a crutch for him, helping him to cope with the pressures of life. but it was clear that they did little more than numb him. you watched as his eyes darted around the room as if he was nervous about something. his eyes flitted between the zipper bags on his nightstand, and he seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he stopped himself.

the tension in the air was palpable, and you could sense the heaviness in his breath. you couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, what he wanted to say but couldn't.

“i can't let you keep destroying yourself, woo”, you said, your voice soft and compassionate. you didn't want to lecture him, you just tried your best to help him see the harm he was doing to himself. but he resisted your words, pushing back with his own defensiveness.

"please, just... let me have this," wooyoung said, a sharp edge to his tone. "don’t try and take this away from me, don't try and protect me. i’m fine, really. i can handle this," he snapped, his tone growing more frustrated. he didn't want you to interfere, didn't want you to try and protect him. he wanted to handle it on his own.

as you watched him, your heart broke even further. he wasn't fine, he wasn't handling it, he was using drugs to cope with his pain. and you were afraid of what would happen if he continued this way. wooyoung's eyes met yours, sharp with his anger, as he continued to resist your words. "don’t you trust me?" he said, suddenly looking more fragile than before.

"don’t you dare say that." you glared at him, feeling your anger rising as you struggled to control yourself. "you know i trust you, but i don't trust that..." you gestured to the baggies on his nightstand, your words heavy in the air. you could feel his defensiveness intensifying, a wall of bitterness rising as he felt he was being accused.

"you’re going to preach to me now, aren't you?" wooyoung glared at you, his frustration clear in his words. "tell me all about how drugs are bad, how they hurt our bodies, how they damage our brains, how they can't fill the void inside of us... is that what you're gonna say?"

wooyoung's glare was intense, his words dripping with hostility as he began to lash out. he knew how he used drugs to cope had been irresponsible and harmful, but he didn't want to be lectured about it. he felt defensive and angry, and he was not going to back down from this argument.

"so you just go right ahead and pretend as if it's not a problem." wooyoung continued, his frustration growing as he glared at you. "you know damn well that they help me cope, that they fill the void i feel inside of me. they make me feel numb, but at least i don't feel anything at all when i’m like this. so just let me have this, and stop trying to interfere."

you could feel your shoulders shaking, your eyes growing damp with tears as you looked at him. "what the hell happened to you, wooyoung?" you choked out the question, your throat clogging with emotion as you struggled to hold it together. you wanted to understand... you wanted to help him.

you saw his expression harden even further as he looked at you, his eyes no longer filled with anger, but rather something closer to contempt. as you choked back your tears, you realized that he seemed to think you were being dramatic. he didn't see the severity of his situation, didn't want to acknowledge that he was falling apart in front of you. your throat tightened as your eyes burned from the fight and the tears that were starting to fall.

you felt something growing inside of you as he stared at you with contempt. anger? hurt? you were feeling these emotions clash with one another as your eyes blurred with moisture. you wanted to yell that you cared about him, that you were just trying to help... but you knew it would fall on deaf ears. instead, you stayed silent, trying to hold back your sobs. it was like he didn't trust you anymore.

"oh... you're crying now, are you?" wooyoung said, his tone cutting and cold. "so you really do enjoy drama then, don't you? you want to try and make me feel worse than i already do, huh? well, you're not going to succeed, so save your tears for someone who cares."

his words stung, hitting everything that was vulnerable and painful inside you. you knew he knew what to say, which string he needed to tug on in order to hurt you the most. you tried to speak, but your voice shook and came out in a whisper. "stop." you tried to be stern, to defend yourself, but you knew that your defenses were crumbling away.

wooyoung smirked at you, and you wanted to slap him for the cruel way he was behaving. he seemed to be taking pleasure in the way he was hurting you, in the way he was tearing you down. he wasn't even hiding the fact that he knew exactly how to bring you down and tear you apart. he seemed to be enjoying it.

there was no holding back now, no restraint. your voice shot up in volume even as you tried to bite it back. "what have i ever done to you?" you looked at him, your eyes burning and your heart racing wildly. "what the hell have i done to deserve this?"

wooyoung stared at you, his eyes narrowing. he seemed to be considering the weight of your words, trying to decide if he wanted to answer honestly. after a moment, he seemed to just decide to be blunt with you. "you’ve never done anything to me," he finally replied simply.

"that's the thing," wooyoung said, his attitude finally starting to soften. "you haven't done a damn thing to me." he had finally stopped fighting back, and his tone had changed from one of anger and aggression to one that was just... tired.

"you’ve just... been there. being my friend. caring for me.. loving me." wooyoung’s voice cracked at the last word, and he seemed to be trying to control himself from breaking down.

"and what do you get out of it?" he took a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes. "me falling apart on drugs, making you cry, treating you like crap? is that what you deserve from your friend?"

he quickly cut you off when you began to open your mouth, stopping you from making any excuses for him. "don’t you start with the whole excuses for me, yn," he said. his tone was harsh, like a snapping order. he seemed to be trying to hold on to the last shred of his composure.

"please." his voice cracked on the last word, and his eyes suddenly filled with pain and sorrow. you could see the pain of his life finally coming to surface... the sadness and hopelessness that had been buried under the drugs and the denial finally coming back to haunt him.

he was so vulnerable, so fragile in this moment, and you couldn't help but feel heartbroken for him. the thought of him hurting like this, of him being so miserable and lost and alone, all because of the drugs and the denial, was unbearable. you wanted to reach out and comfort him, to hold him close and wipe away his pain, but you didn't know how.

"i know i’m not perfect, i know i’ve done things... i’ve hurt you..." wooyoung’s voice cracked and he paused, trying to collect himself. "i just... i’m so tired. i’m so tired of fighting, of trying to keep things together, of being in pain..."

he looked at you, and his eyes were filled with raw emotion.

"i don't want to give up on us," he continued. "you’ve been here for me... through everything... please don't give up on me."

wooyoung seemed to be opening up to you again, letting his walls down and showing you the real him. the one who was tired, scared, and scared of losing you. the one who was afraid of being alone. he looked at you, begging you to stay with him, not to give up on him like everyone else. he needed you.

“i can’t give up on you even if i tried,” your voice was quiet as you spoke this to him

"i know you can't give up on me, but i just don't know if i can... keep on like this." he seemed so miserable and exhausted, like he was on the brink of collapse. "i’m so tired," he continued, his voice shaking. "so tired of all the stress and anxiety and the fear of what's to come... i just..."

he paused again, as if trying to find the words to say all the things he was feeling. "i just don't have the strength to do this anymore," he finally admitted. "i’m tired of carrying all this weight on my shoulders, of pretending like everything is okay, when it's not... i’m just... i’m so fucking tired."

the words were pouring out of him, as if he had been holding them inside for a long time. the exhaustion and the pain, the weight and the worry, the fear and the grief... it was all finally coming out. his voice cracked, and he seemed to be fighting back the tears that were welling in his eyes.

wooyoung broke down finally, sobbing as his arms tremblingly folded around his torso. his body was racked with a mixture of sadness and pain, as he let the weight of his emotions finally take over. "i don't want to drag you down with me," he said, his voice trembling. "but i’m so damn selfish. you see, i’m so selfish that..." his words were beginning to be muffled, and he seemed to be struggling to continue.

"i don't want to lose you," he suddenly mumbled, his cheeks soaked with tears. "i’m so selfish that i don't want to let you go, that i keep dragging you down with me even though i know it's destroying you too... i know it's wrong, i know it's so damn selfish, but i can't let go..."

wooyoung was crying hard, openly and unapologetically. he was a mess of emotion, of hurt and fear and sorrow and pain. he didn't like the way he was hurting you, but he didn't know how to stop. he was stuck in this cycle of self-destruction, and he couldn't see a way out.

previous . . masterlist . . next

taglist @special4u @vampzity @jwone @dulceeed @fantasy2wonderland @fixedonlove

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zombeebunnie · 2 days

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Trembling Essence:💙Script progress + Updates💙

Hello and welcome new followers, long time no see! I was very busy most of this month, but I am back and ready to continue from where I left off on the game! This game development post might be a bit long but I tried to condense everything! :]

"How are things going so far?":

It's going slow and steady! I haven't been able to do too much these past few weeks, however, I wrote a few parts out before I got too busy and couldn't do anything else.

I want to be very careful when it comes to spoilers but, based on your choices, some of these areas will give off immersive cozy/homelike vibes that really express Noah and the player(Y/N)'s view towards each other. In the old 2023 script I was very new to writing so the small semi-hints of romance weren't the entire focus compared to the horror aspect but there's a better balance between both genres now and I'm still aiming for a meaningful slow burn versus it just being all over the place. :] I liked writing them a whole bunch which lead to a lot of these taking place in the mid/end of Day 4+, they just need to be placed in specific areas that call for it. With that being said, it felt really comfy adding key details about Noah and creating meaningful sections in the game. I was even going to draw out some of the unseen script/scenes but I believe the best thing to do is give deeper lore from the [Extended Demo] first. Even though my writing style has improved I still have to fix the multiple pacing issues I wrote last year.

"Playtester's advice":

I wanted to continue working through Noah's backstory but I kept having moments where I'd get sidetracked into wanting to fix up the start of the game again. Eventually, I talked to my play testers about it and they gave me a few encouraging pointers.

To help keep my process at ease, I will fix the beginning of the game when I take breaks from writing up Noah's backstory. :]

I talked about this during early 2024 but the start of the game that leads up to the cabin is still getting reworked. I was able to get some of it fixed for the [Extended Demo] but I wasn't done. Things are still up in the air but, I will say that I have a better view of everything than I did before. :] Another priority that needs fixing are the backgrounds! I've improved a lot on drawing and they need to be optimized. When you first start up the game, you wake up in a holed out tree in the swamp with the choice to leave this area and possibly end up in the forest. I was going for a very immersive form of symbolism that only a few noticed but, I believe I can do a better job about this. Unfortunately I don't have any new backgrounds to show right now but maybe next week I'll have some finished up! :]

"Art process/Noah's sprite sheets":

As far as Noah sprite sheet goes, it's still in sketch mode.

I didn't draw anything since I was gone so I need to do a few warm ups before I get to them. There are some old drawing prompts I wrote down and old sketches that I never got a chance to doodle so hopefully I can get to them at some point with some attached lore. :,]

My Q&A / Ask box has been reset!

Thank you to those who have sent in asks in the past, unfortunately they all disappeared except for 1 while I was gone. I have no idea what happened but I can only guess it just got reset.

If you have any questions about Trembling Essence/Noah feel free to ask or resend them in here please. This makes it easier for me to see and answer accordingly! I would really like to hear from you guys!

This is all I have to share so far, Thank you to everyone for the continued support and patience while I was gone! I was ready to accept the interest for this game to fade out and coming back to see that it didn't happen makes me happy, I really appreciate it. :,]

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gamerbot-22 · 2 years

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Arcana LIs Tending to Red Plague Trauma Flashbacks (Part 2: Julian & Muriel)

Part two to the following request by @dameschnee123!

Feel like we need to ramp up the angst so when you can piggybacking off of my last request, M6 when MC has a horrible flare up ft. a lengthy bout of high fever + memories/hallucinations of being burned at the Lazaret. For a lil fluff the first thing they do when the fever breaks is call for the M6.

I would also like to thank @starry-eyed-wolf for giving me the motivation to get this wrapped up finally!

DNI

C & TWs include:

All: Angst, sad/bittersweet endings at best, discussion of trauma/traumatic events. Julian: Hallucinations, mild descriptions of the feeling of burning alive Muriel: Anxiety

Part 1 | Part 3 (WIP)

🩸 Julian (x)

"HERE! I’M HERE!”

The shop rattles as Julian stumbles in through a back window, nearly falling flat on his face when his foot catches on the windowsill. Malak crows in alarm, soaring in over the doctor's head and flying in circles around the interior of the shop. His heavy black wings shake hanging gems and bundles of herbs. The air fills with the smell of the distressed herbs and the dry screams of the raven.

Any other night, Malak would have perched himself on the skull on one of the back shelves. Julian would have a glass jar full of soup in one arm, a smile on his face, ready to share dinner and a few stories with you. Now, both creatures are full of fear.

Julian staggers to his feet, accidentally slamming the window behind him shut just a tad too hard, causing the frame to rattle in place once more. "MC!" He calls into the shop, dashing through the curtains of the back room he stumbled in from and into the main room of the first floor. "Be quiet, Malak!" He scolds, half-heartedly swiping at his companion as he continues his restless flight around the room. "MC!"

Malak squawks once more before landing on the counter, hopping from side to side and restlessly shifting his wings against his back. Once he settles, it's oddly quiet. There's no sign of life aside from the gently swinging wares that Malak had bumped into earlier. Julian stands at the foot of the stairs, a hand on the banister as he looks up. He doesn't realize that he's holding his breath until he hears the wooden floor above him creak. "MC?" He calls, much softer this time but still tinged with worry.

Upstairs something crashes and the doctor shifts back into high gear, quickly ascending the stairs with his coat flowing behind him like a heavy shadow. Malak follows after, cawing once he reaches the top of the stairs and zips in through your open bedroom door ahead of Julian.

"Stay back!" You yell as Julian rounds the corner after Malak, stopping the doctor dead in his tracks. You're propped up against the bedframe, breathing ragged and panicked, and face red and wet with sweat. In one arm you wield Asra's old traveling staff, aiming it right at Julian's heart. Your grip is shaky, like your arms could give out at any moment and send you crumpling to the floor. "Don't touch me!"

Julian raises his hands in defense and takes half a step back from you. "Won't! I won't! I'm over here." He assures you quickly, speaking against the growing lump in his throat.

Malak settles on the end of the traveling staff, folding his wings and staring down his beak at you. The sight of him sends a jolt of fear up your back and you drop the staff, shrieking and falling backwards onto the floor. The raven quickly takes flight before he can hit the floor and crows in panic, flying into yet another fit of going in circles around the room.

"HEY. You quit flying around this instant!" Julian hisses, raising his hands towards the ceiling and swatting at Malak a few times. The bird's cawing mixes with your panicked screams and Julian's heartbeat throbbing in his ears; it's all unbearable. After a few futile attempts Julian manages to land a light but firm hit to the side of Malak's wing, disrupting the bird mid-flap and finally getting the message across that Malak needed to leave.

The distressed cawing quiets as Malak makes an exit, soaring out to the hall and down the stairs. Julian doesn't even stop to think of whatever might be happening now that his companion's fit moved to the shop, all he can focus on is you, laying flat on the floor of your bedroom, struggling to find the strength to prop yourself up.

"MC, please, hold still," His voice is still shaky with annoyance, but his tone is vastly more serious. His coat trails behind him when he kneels beside your head and it takes every ounce of restraint to not just pick you up. You very clearly did not want to be touched, and he wasn't about to distress you any further unless it was completely necessary. "What's happening, what do you see?"

"Stay back," you wheeze. The fight still rages in your chest, but your body doesn't follow through on your effort to get up and run away from the shadow looming over your side. You were used to the doctors in their blood stained white frocks, their sickly-sweet or macabre monotone voices, and their horrible tools you saw them brandish at both you and other patients. Was this a new doctor? A change in staff? Something entirely worse? "Please don't take me downstairs..." You plead against the hot tears welling in your eyes.

Julian's heart sinks at your tone. He balls both hands into fists and rest them on the floor beside his hips and rocks backs away from your face. "You don't have to go anywhere you don't want to, MC," The doctor says firmly, trying to keep it together. The last thing you need now is to have him openly panicking, too.

"What are you seeing, MC?" The shadow's voice echoes in your head, making your head throb like a beating drum. Tears are freely falling down your face now. Your body feels like it's on fire and your vision is res and blurred at the edges.

"A s-shadow..." You rasp, trying to roll onto your side away from Julian.

"Hey hey hey!" Julian carefully takes you by the shoulder and you twist against him, whimpering as two big tears roll down your cheeks. "I know, but you shouldn't move," Julian orders and slightly tightens his his grip.

The gears in the doctor's head are turning at double speed, trying to sort out how he's going to help you. "Where's the shadow?"

"Y...You."

Ok, so you're hallucinating. "Is the shadow scaring you?"

"Yes..." Your body shakes as you cough. Slowly you start to curl into yourself, trembling hands clutching at your clothes to simulate a tighter space.

"Hey, I don't want to scare you," Julian drops the Big Doctor voice and sits upright, still gently holding your shoulder. "I'm not scary, I just want to help you."

You don't respond outside of a miserable whimper. The beating in your skull is getting louder and the reverb feels like it's spreading out to the rest of your skeleton, shaking you down to your marrow. It all hurts so much.

He wants to ask you more questions but you're clearly in no shape to speak now. Carefully and quietly, Julian unfastens his coat and lets it fall to the floor behind him, then sets to work removing his heavy gloves. "You're sweating a lot. Are you warm? You can just nod."

Julian watches you closely as you tilt your head up and down slowly. "Can I touch you? I promise it won't hurt you. Nod if yes."

Another soft nod follows. Julian sighs in relief and pulls off one of his gloves, holding it in his other hand so he can reach for you. Portia always told him he had the coldest hands, and he wasn't about to leave you like this, so maybe this would help you to cool off while you regained your strength.

You flinch against the shadow's fingers when they touch the back of your neck. It's cold, freezing even, compared to the burning heat that threatens to consume your entire body. "Does this help?" The shadow asks behind you. It's voice sounds familiar now, but your head still hurts too much to think about it. "Yes," you respond through grit teeth.

"I can cool you off more if you come with me," Julian assures you, not moving an inch from his spot on the floor. You seem to be responding better to him now, so he feels more confident in suggesting further relief. "I can get you some cold water we can put on your forehead, and there's medicine I can give you downstairs."

Instantly the heat comes searing back, frying the ends of your nerves and threatening to roast you from the inside out. With a panicked sob you try to scramble away from the formerly comforting shadow. "N-No! Not downstairs! You can't make me!"

Julian stares in surprise for a second before scrambling to his feet. "Hey, hey! I won't make you go anywhere!" He insists, once again stifling the urge to just pick you up and hold you. "You just need your medicine, please--"

"Whatever medicine is downstairs you can keep to yourself..." Your words drip with a venom so potent it almost stops Julian's heart completely.

Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder and find the shadow's shoulder slumped, the hand it had pressed to your neck half extended towards your crumpled shape on the floor. An unknown guilt constricts your throat alongside the smoke that rises from your stomach and you wish desperately you could take back what you said.

Both Julian and you stay in place, frozen stock stiff and silent as death. The weight of your words hangs like a sword over your heads, and it feels like an eternity before Julian finds the ability to speak.

"I know you're confused," he speaks slowly, cautiously stepping close to you, "and very scared. Very very scared." Julian kneels once more, keeping his ungloved hand outstretched to you. "But whatever you're seeing isn't real, MC. I'm here and I want to help you."

You tremble against the side of the bed on the floor, one arm thrown over the top of the mattress and clutching at the blanket. The fearful beating in your chest starts to slow to a more reasonable pace as the shadow in front of you speaks. As it speaks you swear the voice becomes more and more familiar.

"There's nothing downstairs that will hurt you. And if anything tries, I'll be there with you." Julian gently touches his fingertips to your trembling hand. You aren't as hot as you were earlier, and his shoulders relax in relief. "Please, MC, let me help you."

The uncomfortable warmth living in your hands retreats against the shadow's cold touch. Your head throbs once or twice more before seemingly relaxing, clearing the edges of your vision. Everything still seems strange still, a little otherworldly, maybe, but the fear starts to leave as the shadow fully takes your hand in its own.

"Y-You promise it's safe?"

"On my life, MC." Julian gently takes your other arm and lifts you to your feet, propping you against his chest before your legs can give out and send you back to the floor. "Come on, I'll keep you safe."

The two of you quietly move from your bedroom to the hall to the staircase. Julian's sure grip and comforting promises of safety keep you steady as you travel down the stairs. By the time you reach the landing, your headache is almost completely gone and your body doesn't feel like it's cooking from the inside out anymore.

"You sit here, I left my bag in the back room." The shadow helps you settle onto a cushion near one of the shop windows. He presses his bare hand to your forehead, feeling out any remnant of the fever. "Seems almost normal now, but you should still take some medicine. I'll just be a second."

The shadow turns away with a flourish, the image of a black coat coming through clearly in your eyes. A little stunned, you rub your eyes and look towards the doorway to the back room, but all you catch is a boot sliding between the shutting curtains. You look over the room and slowly start to recognize the familiar sights and smells of your shop. On the shelf behind the counter sits Malak, having long since calmed down from his panicking from earlier. If Malak is here, then...

"Julian?" Your voice is strained but loud enough to get his attention. The doctor's tired face pokes out from behind the curtains and he lifts his arm, showing off the cloth bag of medicine he's started to take with him everywhere.

"Right here, my love," he smiles. You see that his eyes are a little watery as he strides back over to you, easily producing a small vial of an orange-ish medicine from his bag.

"What happened?"

"It was just a bad flare up," his assurance seems a little flimsy as he kneels beside you on the ground. Without breaking eye contact with you he opens the glass vial with a satisfying pop! "Open, please, this'll help kill that fever."

You take the medicine from Julian and down the dose in one swig. Your whole body shudders against the artificial taste and you involuntarily stick your tongue out like a child.

"It's awful, I know," Julian chuckles, taking the empty bottle from you and dropping it back in the bag.

"Ilya, I'm so sorry," you sigh, leaning against his chest. You feel his torso stiffen under you, no doubt his face red with a blush at the sudden contact. "I said that awful thing to you... and I almost hit you with the staff..."

Julian freezes, pondering what to say. Truly he's at a loss for words to comfort you. Finally he just wraps his arms around you, holding you as close as he can manage, letting your warm body settle against his. "It's alright, MC, it's alright..." You can feel his chest puff up a little before he continues "It wouldn't be the first time I was threatened with a staff, after all. Doubt it will be the last. Did I ever tell you that story, MC? About the marauders I met outside of Firent?"

You chuckle against his neck, "No I don't think you have." The adrenaline wearing off from that whole experience has left you completely wiped, and a story would definitely help your descent into a comforting sleep. "Tell me about it, would you?"

"It would be my pleasure, love."

🐻 Muriel (x)

You had been getting progressively worse for the last few days. It wasn't anything new to either you or Muriel, but you could tell by the way he stood just a little closer to you than normal and gave you a little extra soup every evening that he was worried. He always stayed close to the hut, making sure your window was open and he and Inanna were in earshot at all times and every day or so he would tell you how the neighbors were doing.

Today was actually a very eventful day for the neighbors, as the latest round of chicks had just hatched. After the chicks had some time to get acclimated to the world around them and rested with their mothers and a few handfuls of feed as a bribe, Muriel gathers a few chicks together in his hands and brings them back to the hut.

The man is brimming with excitement. You've always taken an interest in the neighbors (even if it was a little annoying when you first insisted on helping feed them,) and seeing the newest additions to the family was sure to lift your spirits.

Muriel carefully cradles the chicks in his hands, speaking softly to them about how nice you are and how happy you're going to be to see them as he shoulders the door open. As soon as the heavy wood gives way and creaks inward, Muriel is greeted by Inanna shoving her face against his arm, jostling him so hard he almost drops the chicks.

"Inanna..!" He quickly raises his hands away from the wolf, sheltering the chicks against his chest. Inanna wasn't the type to jump on anyone, least of all him, without reason. Instantly Muriel begins to worry. He didn't hear you say hello when he opened the door, and the fire in the fireplace sounds like it's gone out since he started it earlier that morning.

Inanna snuffs against Muriel's arm, a low whine rumbling in her throat, then steps away and trots over to your bedside. Muriel's shoulders drop when he turns to see you. Your face is drenched in sweat, tears leaking from beneath your eyelids and hands clutching at the fur blanket so tightly you could pull the fur out. Your chest heaves with each shallow breath, the occasional groan of pain a dry creak that barely makes its way past your lips.

Quickly Muriel follows Inanna to you, still holding the chicks in his hands. He frantically looks around for where he can put them before settling on putting them in a hand-carved wooden bowl on the shelf above you. Once they're all in he sits beside you, carefully sliding one arm under your neck and lifting you up to lean against him. Your face is burning hot against his chest and hands, but he doesn't let you go. Inanna leaps up onto the mattress and lays across your legs and hips, putting as much weight as she can manage on you to try to steady your breathing.

"MC?" Muriel asks softly against your head. He carefully brushes your hair out of your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead with his calloused fingers. "Hey, MC, wake up." His voice begins to shake.

You stir against him and Inanna, a dry rasp the only thing that escapes you. "Stay there, Inanna," Muriel sets you back down against the pillows. You could talk just fine when he left for the chickens earlier. Had you been yelling for him? Or were you just dehydrated from a flare up? Muriel couldn't decide which was worse while he hurriedly checks his shelves beside the fireplace for the medicine he's been making for the past month or so. In his search, a few pieces of earthenware get jostled from their spot, with one bowl sliding all the way off the shelf and crashing to the floor, shattering on impact. The hermit curses under his breath before kicking the fragments away. He can clean it up later.

Finally, hidden behind several other jars of herbs and home-made salves, Muriel finds the little jar of cooling salve sitting pristinely at the back of the shelf. He snatches it quickly and in just two strides he's back by you and Inanna.

The wolf is laying entirely over your legs, her head resting on your stomach now to try to spread out the weight. Her yellow eyes are focused on your face and nothing else, and she hardly acknowledges Muriel outside of a slight wag of her bushy tail.

Muriel carefully opens the glass jar, immediately getting hit with the strong smell of peppermint and ginger. Inanna huffs from her spot on top of you but doesn't move. "I know, Inanna, but it should help." Normally he would've gotten some kind of tool to help apply the thick salve in the jar, but he wasted enough time already trying to find the thing. He knows you probably can't hear him, but he still gives you a small warning before applying the medicine to your cheeks and forehead.

You flinch away from Muriel's touch at first, but it doesn't stop his effort. He just waits until you settle again before trying again, going as long as you'll let him before turning away again. It feels like it takes hours before he's finished spreading the salve across your skin.

Muriel sits on the floor beside you, setting the salve aside and resting his chin on the mattress by your shoulder. Inanna shifts her weight slightly, occasionally wagging her tail or huffing to keep herself awake and aware. At the very least the medicine seems to keep your fever down, as you aren't sweating as much.

For a while the three of you stay in place, totally silent until a soft peeping from the shelf above you reminds Muriel of the chicks he brought specifically for you to see. With a grumble Muriel stands upright and reaches for the bowl he put the chicks in, taking care as he leans over you and Inanna. Only one of the three chicks is awake with the other two curled up close at the bottom of the bowl. "I suppose you three want to go back to Mama, don't you?"

"I'll be right back, MC," he touches your shoulder shyly before stepping back outside, carrying the chicks carefully in his arms. Muriel's head is clouded with thought as he makes his way to the neighbors' nest. He knows the path so well he can navigate the uneven terrain perfectly while he thinks of you back at the hut, throat strained and hands tight with pain. Inanna is with you, yes, and he trusts her with everything, but he still worries that something might happen more while he's out.

This will be the last time he leaves the hut for a while, he decides. There's plenty of food in storage and anything else he needs he can get on the way back from delivering the chicks. Speaking of, he pushes through the underbrush of the forest and arrives just before sundown to the chickens' little haven in the wood. He kneels near one of the nests, gently rubbing the chicks' backs before laying his hands flat on the ground and letting them back to their mother. The experienced hen barely lifts herself to let them squirm under her feathers to join their siblings, clucking softly as the last one manages to squeeze in.

"See you," Muriel nods before rising back to his feet and turning back towards his home. Occasionally he stops to gather a few herbs and wild vegetables, but in he end he only returns with maybe a handful of vegetation total.

He pushes through the door once more, this time it opens much easier. Inanna's ears perk up in acknowledgement as Muriel arrives, but she otherwise remains still, her eyes still fixed squarely on your face. At least your breathing has seemed to steady while he was out.

Muriel set all the herbs away in the sacks he keeps in the corner for food and finally gathers up the shattered pieces of clay from earlier and sets them carefully on his workbench. The container should be easy enough to fix, and it's not like he has plans to go anywhere else for a while. It'd be a nice project to work on while you all wait for the flare up to subside.

After everything is set in its place, Muriel just sort of stands in the middle of the hut, shifting his gaze between you and Inanna. Inanna just stares back at him occasionally, her mouth settled squarely in an almost puppy-like begging face as she looks between her two humans.

Minutes of silence pass and are only interrupted when Muriel's stomach growls with the ferocity of a caged tiger. It would be amusing if it wasn't suddenly so uncomfortable. He should probably make some food... Maybe the smell will help ease whatever is on your mind as you rest. The hermit turns back to the fireplace, re-lighting the wood that's already there and adding more kindling to it. The pot hanging over the new fire is empty, ready for a whole new stew from last time.

Inanna likes lamb the most out of all the meet Muriel has already, and he had some carrots and potatoes, so that's the obvious choice. Also probably the easiest. Alright, that'll be what's for dinner.

It's quiet as Muriel prepares everything. Inanna doesn't huff or whine while everything is cut and seasoned, having fallen asleep by the time Muriel made his decision for dinner. The only sound in the entire hut is Inanna's occasional snore, you turning against her weight, and the stew bubbling once Muriel has it over the fire.

As the thick soup cooks, Muriel sits back down beside you, this time pulling the chair from his worktable over so he's not just sitting on the floor. He gently rubs Inanna's head, waking her up from her heavy slumber. Her ears perk up and she looks sideways at her companion, a concerned whine squeaking past her jaws. "I know, Inanna," Muriel sighs, smoothing her coarse dark fur. "They'll be alright. I think you're helping a lot."

Her tail wags softly with a half-hearted pride and fixes her eyes back on you. Your breathing has steadied and your sweat seemed to have lightened up. Muriel quietly thanked Asra for his help with making the salve.

"Do you want some stew?" Muriel asks no one in particular once he smells the spices in the pot. Inanna carefully lifts her head, tilting it in interest when Muriel gets up and shuffles over to the fire. As he readies three bowls for serving, his mind starts to wander. You had been quiet since he gave you the medicine and Inanna got settled on top of you. One side of his brain was calmly reassuring him, drawing the conclusion that whatever was upsetting you earlier had past, and now you were just getting some well deserved rest. The other side, however, was starting to settle into full panic mode. What if he somehow made it worse with that medicine? Was the smell too much for you? Is Inanna too heavy? Did you call for him while he was gone and he wasn't there to comfort you? Were you ever going to wake up?

Muriel freezes in place by the fire, just staring into the flames while he tried to make sense of his thoughts. He didn't even realize how much it was hurting his eyes until he felt Inanna press her cold nose into his hand, shaking him free. "Thanks, Inanna," he breathes, setting the half-full bowl of stew in his hands on the floor for his friend. "I'll watch MC for now." She licks his hand once before turning to her dinner, immediately going for the biggest chunk of lamb.

He's barely made two steps towards you before you toss in your sleep, taking the first deep breath of consciousness. "Muriel...?"

"'M right here." He sounds a little more frantic than he means to as he slides across the dirt floor to be right by your side. Inanna disregards her food entirely and trots over beside Muriel, shoving her cold nose right against your cheek and huffing affectionately.

"Oh--" you groan, gently pushing Inanna out of your personal space, "Hello to you, too, Inanna." You push against the mattress and sit upright, Inanna and Muriel watching you closely the entire motion. "What happened?"

Muriel's breath hitches. "I... I don't know. I wasn't here." His heart lodges in his throat and he tries to fight back a few tears, "I wasn't here but I should have been. I gave you some medicine and Inanna watched you for a while but I don't... I don't know what happened."

Your eyes widen with surprise, maybe a little guilt, too. You don't remember much from past this morning when Muriel went to check traps and visit the chickens. The only thing you can piece together from then and now is the weight of what must have been Inanna on your chest and a cool feeling on your face and neck. That was probably the medicine Muriel was talking about.

"Hey, it's alright." You rest your hand over Muriel's. A few tears run down his scared face and onto your knuckles when he takes your hand in his and squeezes. "I'm glad you were here when I woke up."

"M-Me, too." He breathes, more tears welling up in his eyes.

You both sit in heavy silence for a moment before Inanna takes it upon herself to break it. She puts her front paws on the chair Muriel is sitting in and licks the side of his face, wiping away tears but leaving some wolf slobber behind in the process.

"Aw, Inanna," you laugh, letting go of Muriel's hands so he can wipe the thick spit off of his face.

The wolf barks once, unashamed of her actions, before turning tail and walking back to her bowl of stew. Once Muriel is finished cleaning himself off, a tight chuckle escapes him. "I don't suppose you're hungry after that big nap."

"Are you kidding? I'm starving."

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