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sensualnoiree · 6 months

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astro health notes pt.1

Astrology has long associated specific body parts and health predispositions with each zodiac sign. All the signs, Aries through Pisces hold sway over various physiological attributes and potential health concerns, shedding light on their connections to human anatomy and well-being.

Aries: Headstrong Prowess and Vitality

Ruling Anatomy: Aries governs the head, cerebral hemispheres, upper jaw, eyes, and face. The brain, skull, and facial features fall under its dominion. The energy of Aries infuses the thinking process and perception, contributing to sharp, commonsensical thinking and acute senses.

Health Connections: Individuals with a dominant Aries influence may experience issues like headaches, migraines, sinus conditions, nosebleeds, and neuralgia. Their active nature and energetic disposition demand a well-balanced diet for sustained health and vitality. Aries’ association with the head often leads to distinctive facial features, birthmarks, and scars. Additionally, their inclination towards risk-taking behavior might result in intriguing scars from past injuries.

Challenges: Under planetary afflictions, Aries natives might contend with brain fever, dizziness, inflammation of the cerebral hemispheres, and other brain-related ailments. Excessive blood flow to the head can cause varied symptoms like red, sore eyes, vertigo, and a tendency towards irritability and impatience.

Taurus: Endurance and Steadfastness in Health

Ruling Anatomy: Taurus presides over the neck, ears, throat, larynx, tonsils, thyroid gland, and cerebellum. It also governs the vocal cords, taste buds, and the area surrounding the neck.

Health Connections: Taureans exhibit endurance and steadfastness, yet they might be prone to ailments such as colds, sore throats, swollen glands, stiff necks, and minor neck injuries. Their penchant for good food might lead to weight concerns as they age, requiring discipline in diet and moderate exercise. The thyroid gland’s influence can significantly impact weight issues.

Characteristics: Taurus risings often possess distinct neck features, and their sturdy build with a strong posture sets them apart. They may have darker hair and eyes, with naturally curly locks. Under the influence of Venus, they tend to possess symmetrical and attractive facial features.

Challenges: Taurus individuals, when afflicted, may hold onto illnesses tenaciously due to their fear of sickness. They might experience ailments related to the nervous system, digestive disorders, and poor blood circulation, reflecting the Melancholic disposition associated with this sign.

Gemini: Nervous Energy and Communication Linkages

Ruling Anatomy: Gemini oversees the lungs, shoulders, arms, hands, bronchial tubes, and nervous system. Communication, flexibility, and subtle sensations fall within its purview.

Health Connections: Individuals influenced by Gemini might confront issues related to upper respiratory infections, bronchitis, asthma, and nervous disorders. Their communicative nature might be closely tied to their state of health, with anxiety and nervousness potentially impacting their well-being.

Distinctive Traits: Gemini ascendants are easily recognizable by their animated storytelling, expressive gestures, and bright, engaging eyes. They possess tall, lithe bodies, with graceful arms and hands, owing to the influence of Mercury.

Challenges: Geminis’ nervous energy can manifest in various health challenges, including respiratory problems and nervous disorders. Anxiety and stress may exacerbate their susceptibility to ailments, emphasizing the interconnectedness between their mental state and physical health.

Cancer: Nurturing Instincts and Emotional Health

Ruling Anatomy: Cancer governs the breasts, diaphragm, womb, lymphatic system, vagina, stomach, and right eye. It embodies nurturing, motherhood, and the Moon principle, associated with substance change but lacking vitality.

Health Connections: Cancerians might encounter weight gain in later years due to their fondness for food. Emotional stress, anxiety, and tension often cause digestive problems such as ulcers, gastritis, and digestive upsets. They might struggle with gall bladder issues, nausea, and gas pains, while also being susceptible to overindulgence in alcohol.

Characteristics: Cancer individuals exhibit a nurturing nature akin to motherhood. Their susceptibility to digestive issues and emotional stress underscores the impact of their emotional state on physical health.

Challenges: Afflicted Cancerians may suffer from dropsy, indigestion, and sclerosis. Symptoms such as dizziness, syncope, and watery or congested nose and sinuses can manifest, reflecting the sign's vulnerabilities.

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mkmas · 9 months

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Jude Jazza Fever Event Story Translation

*This story belongs to cybird

* I wasn’t sure how to interpret some sentences to english so it might not be smooth

* ⚠️ this story is suggestive

It was this morning when Roger asked me to take care of Jude who caught a cold.

I don’t think Jude will obediently agree to be nursed. I’m sure he’ll turn me away.

But I heard he used to have weak bronchial tubes, and I was asked to do it anyway.

Somehow I managed to rouse myself from my reluctance and came to the infirmary.

Kate: Jude, how are you feeling?

Jude: Ha it’s you. Did you come to make fun of me?

Jude was resting on the infirmary bed with sweat on his forehead.

His voice is thin and weak, he does not have his usual high spirits

Kate: I’m here to take care of Jude.

Jude: Ha what a waste. I’m sure that quack doctor made you do it.

Kate: I won’t deny that I was asked to do it but.. Wouldn’t it be nice to believe in someone’s kindness?

Jude: What are you saying to a businessman/merchant? If you can’t see it then it’s basically nothing.

……I knew he’d react like this.

Even though his body is weak from his cold, his cruelty remains unchanged.

Kate: Anyway… I won’t give up in taking care of Jude, so just accept it quietly.

Kate: Even if you tell me not to get involved or that I’m annoying… I would be sad if something happened to Jude.

Jude:……

Jude:……. Fine. If you’re satisfied with what you’re doing, you can do whatever you want, even if it’s nursing.

Kate: Eh? You won’t mind if I take care of you?

I was surprised at how easily I was accepted, I expected him to reject me coldly.

Jude: Hah... What’s with that stupid face? Did you expect to get rejected?

Kate: ….. Well it’s Jude after all.

Jude: You’re so persistent, even if I kick your ass you’ll stick around.

Jude: Well it’s a pain to deal with each person like that. Just do what you have to do and quickly go home.

Kate: I understand.

Jude: What kind of nursing are you going to give me?

Kate: Then, I will unbutton your shirt to wipe off your sweat first.

Jude: Yes, yes….

I put my hand on Jude’s button, which he accepts quietly.

However-

I can’t take off people’s buttons well…!

Jude: What’s wrong?

Kate: I-I’m sorry, I’ll take it off right away.

Jude: Do you need a role model to take you off your clothes?

Jude’s hand reaches out to unbutton my clothes with skillful hands.

Kate: Hey, wait a minute….

Jude: I’ll show you how it’s done until you can get me out of my clothes.

Jude: Let’s hope you can take it off, while you still have something to wear, hm?

Kate:….ugh.

After being cornered, I was fast. I managed to unbutton Jude’s shirt.

Kate: Done… Anyway, Jude why didn’t you take it off yourself?

Jude: You wanted to take it off first.

Kate:Hey, don’t say it in a misleading way…!

After adjusting my own disordered clothes, I wiped Jude’s chest and neck with a hot towel.

Meanwhile, Jude let me wipe his body like he was a cat.

He can’t even complain, I guess I’m lucky.

Jude: Ha…., Hah….

Jude’s occasional sighs and groans, which doesn’t even sound like a groan was seductive.

Every time my ears picked up the sound, a shiver ran down my spine.

(…. What am I thinking? Jude is in pain….)

The way Jude was frowning and breathing out shallowly, was extremely provocative. (T/N: FOCUS GIRLL)

When I could see the outline of his body through the towel, I tried my best to look away. I felt embarrassed.

Kaye: …. It’s finished.

I moved away from the bed, to shake off my thoughts.

Jude: Hah… Thanks for the naughty nursing.

Kate: It was normal!

He was given both food and medicine, so now I feel relieved….

I only took care of him for awhile, but I’m tired…

Jude won’t be able to rest well if I’m here anyway, so let’s call it a day.

Kate: Well, I’ll be going now. If you need anything, ring the bell.

Jude: Can you get me some water before you go? My throat…

Jude:…. Ugh.

Suddenly, Jude started coughing badly.

He bends his back as if in pain, and his cough showed no signs of stopping.

He wants water, maybe if it moistens his throat it’ll go away….?

I don’t know…. Even if I give him a cup, it’ll spill before he can get it into his mouth.

I hurriedly took a mouthful of water and-

Jude: O.O

I gave Jude the mouthful of water with my mouth.

After confirming he has swallowed, I released my lips.

Kate: That’s good… The coughing stopped…

Jude: What’s good about that…. You idiot, you’ll catch my cold.

Jude: Why else do you think I let you nurse me obediently?

Kate: Eh….?

Come to think of it, it was only when I got close that Jude didn’t talk much….

The reason he obediently allowed me to take care of him was so that I could go home early……….?

I realized now that he was considerate of not spreading his cold to me.

Kate: I’m sorry I didn’t know. But I wanted to help Jude.

Jude: Tch… That kinda thing really pisses me off.

Jude’s hand presses the back of my head, and our lips which were once separated, met again.

Kate:…. Hnnn!

The hot tongue that had broken into my lips greedily entwined my tongue and sucked it tight.

Kate: ……Fu, Nnn…….

As if to stop my resistance, the kisses were deep and rough, enough to feel a slight pain.

Kate: Hah…. Hah….. Hah…… Hey, what are you doing?

Finally released and out of breath, I glared at Jude.

Jude: Punishment for carelessness of other people’s consideration.

Jude spat out the words in a frustrated way.

What he said was true and I couldn’t think of anything to say back, so I left the infirmary like I was running away.

——————-

Kate:………..Ugh

Once it starts, a cough that doesn’t go away often results in a sore throat.

A few days after nursing Jude, I was in bed with a cold.

Jude: Yes you look good. You deserve it.

Kate: Jude!? Why are you here……

Kate: Could it be…. You came to visit me?

Jude: I’m not here to visit, I came to nurse you.

Kate: Nursing…..?

Jude: I don’t like leaving debts unpaid.

Jude sits on a stool in the room and twirls the skin of an apple with a knife beginning to peel it.

As I gazed at the beautiful curls of the skin, I thought about the time I had nursed him.

Jude’s right, I deserved it.

But I couldn’t leave Jude alone when he was suffering.

I guess this is a “beautiful thing” in Jude’s opinion. But still, some things can’t be twisted.

….If I say it in front of Jude, will I be punished again?

A kiss so violent it almost took me away without a trace.

I gently touched my lips with my fingers, feeling the heat of his tongue still lingering.

Jude: Sorry to get your hopes up, but I'm not going to nurse you in the way you did.

Kate:…… I don’t have such expectations.

Jude: Heehhh.

Jude laughs, looking unconvinced by my reply.

I guess I’m gonna get some nasty nursing. I don’t mind it… because of the heat I shared with him.

End

(T/N: A couple that shares diseases together stays together🫶 (jk). I loved how they showed how considerate Jude is… Also Kate got to see him shirtless and we don’t that’s unfair hm. One important point is that Jude can still skillfully unbutton someone’s shirt even when he’s sick 👀)

#i loved this story sm i did this #jude jazza #ikemen villains #ikevil

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deathbecomesthem · 4 months

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Estate Sale 1 of 2

Eddie Munson x Medium!Reader | 3.8K

Summary: Home is not home anymore. The road is your friend. You find yourself in a strange place where you encounter a spirit unlike anything you've known before after a trip to a strange estate sale. There will be second and final part upcoming.

A/N: The first bit of this was written as a request for @jo-harrington on a different blog. I've decided to revive it. This is a story that asks you to suspend your disbelief. Take a journey into the weird, and don't come to me for answers.

Warnings: Blood, body horror, mental distress, and a reader that has a vague history of institutionalization.

The world you live in is on fire, and he is cold. He’s been cold for as long as he can remember. The bites festered for so long. They opened wide, blackened and bleeding, making him hunger for things he could never find. The ache in his gut never satiated, even when his sharp teeth broke the skin of the petal-faced creatures that populated the world that had become his home. He kept to the places he knew from the other side, his school, the Hideout, his trailer - he sat on the stained mattress with his Sweetheart laid across his lap when he heard the primal screams of that spider-like beast. Both the man and the smoke. The time after his new home splintered and bled, his own body changed again. It healed. He laid in his bed, wrapped in the blanket his mother knitted together when he was a baby, and he healed. The wounds closed and began to scar. The sharp fangs that broke the soft skin of his lips dropped from his mouth. And he slept.

–

The combination of heat, humidity, and orange smoke from the raging wildfires - a discontenting trifecta. Is the whole world designed to make you miserable? Yes. It must be. The wind that whips through your beater of a car moves like the air of a convection oven, perfect and even baking without the need to rotate the cookie tray of your faux leather driver’s seat. You wonder if it’s a mirage when you see it, a desolate highway on the central eastern part of Indiana - “Estate Sale”. Mercy. You pray to the gods that wherever the sale is located, there will be air conditioning.

You thought after making your way through Nebraska you’d seen all the corn the world had to offer, but Indiana proves you wrong. It’s not until you pass a sign that says “Entering Hawkins” that you finally see roads lined with trees rather than corn stalks that are looking ready for harvest. You notice the scars on the earth as soon as you enter the city limits. The goosebumps on your forearm are what make you realize how cold the air in your car has gotten, like the air conditioning suddenly kicked on at its max setting. But no, your windows are open, and the sky is darker. Another sign, black spray painted letters on brown cardboard, “Estate Sale”. An arrow pointing to the left at the stop sign a quarter of a mile in front of you.

So you push down the indicator and turn.

–

Eddie only stirred a little in those decades of healing when Wayne took his last breaths. His own steady breaths began to quicken along with his father’s. He gasped in air and felt the vice grip on his lungs. A burning, empty feeling when he tried to expand bronchial tubes and let the oxygen in. The gasping was brief before turning into hollow breaths. Slower. Slower. Slower. And then the darkness pulled him back into that quiet and restful place of waiting.

–

When you reach the center of town, the unease you’ve been feeling turns into disbelief. The town hall is barely visible through your foggy windshield, a building marred with large scars that look like the smaller ones you’ve been seeing along the roadside since you entered the town. You think about cranking your steering wheel and going back the way you came when you see another cardboard sign pointing to the right. It’s not some sort of mystical force driving you through this apparent ghost town, it’s your curiosity. You tell yourself, curiosity killed the cat, and then remind yourself, but satisfaction brought it back.

Another turn of the steering wheel, and a short jog down an old road when you see the final sign. You avoid potholes that threaten to swallow up your Ford Fiesta and take a final turn down a gravel road greeted by a much larger sign reading “Forest Hills Trailer Park”. You are not surprised to see rows of mobile homes alongside the small road your car is bouncing along. You’ve almost forgotten your purpose when you see so many cars that haven’t been roadworthy since your mom was a teenager. You’ve entered a time warp, it’s the only explanation your brain can come up with. Finally, at the end of the gravel road, you see a trailer with a scar down its center. It’s cold enough now that you’re extending your right arm to the backseat of your car to find a hoodie you haven’t needed to wear in over a month. Outside of the trailer are boxes. An estate sale with no one to collect your money, just boxes sitting on the ground with a spray painted “Free” sign propped against one.

Free is something you can afford.

–

Gravel crunches under your boots as you approach the line of boxes. It occurs to you that the trailer itself might be worth entering, but think better of it. Let the ghosts keep their secrets and take what they’ve so generously offered you today. A shiver creeps down your spine when you consider how many spirits might be watching you from the tree tops in the woods that encircle the trailer park. You can feel how real they are in the silence that echoes inside your ears.

*crunch, crunch*

You keep moving until the tip of your boot is against the box closest to your car. It doesn’t have any markings, not like some of the other ones further down the line. You’ve decided to roll the dice and peek inside, only to find dozens of mugs. No one wrapped them in newspaper to protect them from chipping. You gasp when you see it - a Garfield mug almost exactly like the one your Nana had in her kitchen. Nana kept that mug for you, and always served you her special hot chocolate in it. You know it’s not Nana’s mug, because that special cup is chipped on Garfield’s cheek. This one is pristine. You consider, only for a moment, that you could take the whole box with you. Put it in the back of your car and line your kitchen shelves with the mugs. You can hardly believe your eyes, these vintage pieces are in such good condition. You shake your head, pick up Garfield, and move to peek into the next box.

Inside you find mostly clothing, tattered flannel shirts and threadbare jeans. There’s also a stack of hats on one side. Most look barely worn. Evidence of a working man’s wardrobe. You let your fingers brush against the soft denim of a pair of blue jeans at the top and imagine the man that wore them. They’re old school Wranglers, probably worth something even in their current worn condition.

This is when you catch a glimpse of a treasure hidden behind the boxes. Through the misty fog of that strange atmosphere, a shock of something red catches your vision. The way the boxes are laid you, side-by-side, you only catch a sliver of the instrument placed onto its back in the gravel. It’s a B.C. Rick Warlock. You’re not a guitarist, but your Uncle Keith was. You’ve seen pictures of him with a guitar that looks just like the one in front of you, only your uncle’s was black. Your hand moves like a magnet, reaching behind the boxes to pull out your prize. This sweetheart of a guitar found its new home with you. She flashed you her smile, and now you’re hers.

You pulled out of the ghost town of Hawkins, Indiana 3 hours and 15 minutes after pulling into it with - a guitar you don’t know how to play, a guitar pick necklace, a Garfield mug, and a silver mood ring. Each item gave you a sense of joy, each for different reasons. Nostalgia of a more innocent time in your life, memories of family now lost. And you wonder about the previous owners. Most of their belongings, with the possible exception of the pretty guitar you have riding shotgun in your car, would be found at the local dump. The Estate Sale signs bother you, because you know that means they must be gone. So you promise yourself to remember them, even if it’s only when you drink your first cup of coffee in the morning, or when you fiddle with the new necklace around your neck.

You stayed later than you meant to, and the sun was fully set when you lost the sight of Hawkins in your rearview mirror. You’re getting a hotel room tonight. It doesn’t matter that it’s out of the unrealistic budget you never really meant to keep in the first place. You need a fucking shower certainly, but that’s not your top motivation. You want a room with an electrical outlet to plug in your new guitar and see how she sounds. The idea sounds stupid inside your own head as you think it, you don’t know how to play. Not even a single chord.

But it feels right in your hand, the weight of it. You brushed your fingers against the metal strings and felt the vibrations move through you, building and creating a need. Your fingers twitched and you felt a song in them, a tune ringing through them that you only vaguely know. You find yourself humming it through your closed lips when you see the roadside motel with the red “VACANCY” sign lit up.

Even with the sun down, it’s hot as hell outside. You’re happy to see that each room has an air conditioning unit set high up in the outside wall. You can almost smell the freon in the air, and it sends a little shiver of excitement down your spine. You’re desperate after leaving the much cooler air of Hawkins. There’s only one other car in the parking lot,that you assume must belong to the person sitting behind the counter of the front desk.

A bell chimes above the front door as you push it open, drawing the attention of a middle aged man sitting with his feet propped up on the counter in front of you. His balance is lost and you see him attempt to catch himself before he slides off the vinyl office chair.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” You offer a quick apology as he awkwardly plants his feet down on the linoleum below his feet, that Midwestern habit that won’t quit. Apologies all around.

“Oh, sorry. I’m good. Just didn’t expect anyone tonight.” He’s giving you a friendly enough smile when he asks, “you need directions? Or, do you want a room?”

“A room please. At the far end, if possible.” You’re thinking about the song inside of you. You need to let your fingers strum without pissing this guy off by making too much noise.

He’s turning to grab a key from the hooks behind his chair, real metal keys with big red tags hanging from each, when he asks another question, “You’re lucky you came through when you did. This place is coming down next month. No one takes these back road highways anymore. It’s too bad. We did alright for a while when the Hawkins ghost hunters used to make a regular appearance, but that’s been waning for years.”

Your interest is piqued at the idea of a local haunting, but even more so at the name “Hawkins”. A part of you had started to wonder if it was only a delusion your mind created, the otherworldly town with the estate sale. The sale that offered you that beautiful instrument and a pick necklace to match the red of the guitar.

“Oh, ya know I just passed through there. What a creepy place.” You wrinkle your nose, remembering the way cracks in the earth spread out like a giant spider web through the town center. “What happened there? Some kind of earthquake?”

The motel manager - you look and see the name “Keith” on his nametag - is looking at you with open shock. Like he’s looking at an alien, something his brain has never seen before. He swallows, shaking his head at the same time and says, “Ain’t no way to pass through Hawkins. The government has blocked off completely at the city limits since the huge ground shaker two years ago. The city hall, along with the entire city block where it sat, were swallowed up into the earth. Real apocalyptic stuff.”

You open your mouth to rebut his statement, and close it again. It really was just a hallucination - a strange oasis hidden inside the surrounding fields of corn. That earth scarred land only lived in your mind, despite the tangible evidence of its existence sitting in the trunk of your car. It doesn’t matter, because you’d rather believe that you lived in a delusion than the alternative. That you entered another world, something that is simply not possible.

But then why do your fingers ache more and more with every passing moment, crying to stroke the neck of the guitar - Sweetheart, Sweetheart, Sweetheart - and coax a song from her. The desire, need really, overwhelms you. So you nod in agreement, say something along the lines of, “of course, I must be mistaken, I’m sure I would have noticed a giant crater in the ground”, and head out the glass door of the motel office.

—

Eddie’s breathing is picking up, something that hasn’t happened in years. It’s been decades of a dreamless sleep, but his mind is sending out small sparks of ideas. His fingers twitch. His heart, that’s been beating at 30 bpms for more than 30 years, is firing at a steadily increasing rate. The chrysalis is beginning to crack, and his mind is humming a tune. One that you’d certainly recognize.

—

The room is exactly how you expected it to look, only a little cleaner. You’re pleasantly surprised to find a light smell of citrus hanging in the air. The sheets are probably as old as you are, but they smell fresh, and the comforter is soft. Any other night, you’d crawl in and fall asleep without a moment’s hesitation. But you’re anxious to spend time with your new treasures. You’re absentmindedly twisting the mood ring on your finger. You expected when you had placed it on your finger earlier to see it change against the warmth of your body heat, but the plastic gem remains onyx.

You try not to think about the reason for your impromptu road trip while you plug in the amp to the wall socket at the head of the bed. You push back on the memories. Strange things speaking to you in the dark, the hospital, the dead things reaching out to you from their restless afterlives. Prescriptions to fight against psychosis and the hallucinations that never fully left, only grew more quiet in your mind. You’ve learned how to survive this world, to disconnect from those otherworldly voices, and to never speak of them out loud in this world where seeing is believing.

Now, though - something is moving you, an impossible to fight force. And that’s fine, because your curiosity, your desire to connect with the thing that’s led you here, is not a malevolent force. You know that in the same way you know that the sky is blue, the grass is green, and that the living and dead are separated by a thin veil that only some folks can see through.

There’s no one here with you to look at your behavior and show you caring concern. No one here suggests the idea that maybe you ought to drive to the nearest inpatient facility and sign your rights away until the “ghosts” leave you alone. So, you let the gentle hand of the spirit speak through your hands.

They’re not your hands anymore. For the length of the song, you’ve been pushed down somewhere deep inside of you. You can feel the weight of the guitar in your hands, feel the strings under your fingers, hear the sounds filling the small room. A presence, stronger than any spirit you’ve encountered before now, is using your body. It’s a peaceful feeling, letting them take the reins, bobbing your neck along with the fierce and frenzied movements of your fingers.

5 miles plus one dimension away, Eddie’s eyes open. You see through them. You feel the cold air, smell mold and dirt. You hear the faint beat of wings, and a scream of pain. Your body never falters while it plays the song that you now recognize as an old Metallica tune. You feel a string pulled tight - that other body sits up in its bed and shakes its head. You call to him without a voice, eerily similar to the way you’ve been called in the past. You feel him exhale as the echo of the final notes your body plays on the BC Rich echo through the room.

—

Eddie doesn’t know anything outside of the need to follow the path in front of him. He remembers dying. He remembers his true self leaving the flesh, drifting through the air of that hell dimension, never breaking through the gates. Eventually, settling back in the still form tucked neatly into the mirror image of the bed where he spent so many hours of his life in the real world.

He knows nothing and everything. His heart beats in his chest, and air moves through his lungs - this is a living body that should have molded along with the blanket that covered it. Instead, he’s listening to a familiar song and following its sound through the empty wasteland where he’s been hidden away for decades.

And you. He knows you, a stranger that heard his soul cry out and answered without fear. He trusts the path, he trusts his guide. He knows the music will show him how to finally leave hell and walk in the sunlight once again.

—

You sit with the neck of Sweetheart, you know this is her name, in your hand. With that knowledge comes recognition. This guitar has an aura. It has a soul. No, that’s not quite right - a piece of someone has been left inside of her. It’s what called you to her. The chain on your neck that held the guitar pick that is currently pinched between your fingers, feels heavy.

“You bitch,” you say to the guitar without bite. You’re feeling duped by that world you’ve tried so hard to pretend does not exist despite all of the evidence you’ve been shown so many times in your life. You whisper out, “what have I stumbled into here?”

You stand and place Sweetheart in the corner and unclasp the necklace from your neck. You leave the chain and the pick on the long dresser in front of the bed in your motel room, and walk out into the humid Indiana summer night. You haven’t had a cigarette in 2 years, not since the last time the call from behind the veil was too hard to ignore, and yet you still clocked the machine that stands just outside of the front office door. You fumble in your back pocket for your wallet and push a 10 dollar bill into the ancient machine. You’ve never seen one of these in the flesh, and wonder if the smokes that come out will be from 2024 or 1986.

You shake your head at the strange, intrusive thought, and absentmindedly pull the knob. It’s not until you’re holding the box in your hand that you realize you didn’t choose your old favorites, Marlboro Reds. You examine the desert scene behind the plastic film with fascination. If you had looked closer at your own hand, you would have seen that the onyx on the mood ring you picked up along with Sweetheart and the guitar pick necklace has turned an opalescent blue-green. But you didn’t do that. Instead, you went back into the now empty motel office to grab a box of matches from the fishbowl next to the guest book on the counter. Again you’re struck by the idea that you have entered a sort of time warp, this place seems stuck somewhere between the past and the present. 1986 with Wi-fi.

1986. The year means nothing to your conscious mind, but for some reason it is conjured once again. You think that Sweetheart will be safe enough in the trunk of your car tonight. Keep the ghost, or whatever is calling to you through the foggy veil between life and death, out of your dreams tonight. The necklace, too. You need to clear your mind or risk being swallowed whole by whatever this is.

—

Eddie is following two things - the string from his mind that is connected to your own, and a faint glow somewhere in the distance. He is trying to think, but his mind is labyrinthine, and he’s somewhere in the middle unable to see the twists and turns that lead him there. Instead, his body moves on its own accord, and he focuses on the light.

There are things following him, he can hear the solid foot falls land with every step of his own. The things, whatever they are, do not register as a threat to him. He feels no need to turn and fix his gaze on them. They won’t bother him. They share the memories of the hive mind, and remember the way his teeth felt biting into their flesh. They remember when his wings beat, and the ground trembled. They remember the things that Eddie forgets.

That light, blue-green and glowing through the darkness of Eddie’s world, takes his feet beyond the places he has traveled. The following footsteps fall away as he continues his journey, the unnatural light frightening the beasts. For Eddie, it’s a beacon of sorts. With each step, his skin grows warmer.

In the void where the light shines for him, a building slowly comes into his view. He would be confused if his mind knew how to perceive the things that he has been experiencing. Instead, a feeling of relief sweeps over his body when he sees that it’s a motel. His legs are tired, and his head feels too heavy on his neck. His feet carry him to the room on the end where the light glows brightly. The bed in the center of the room is where the source of the beacon is found, and he is more than glad to climb into and sleep in its warm glow. It smells like home here, something he hasn’t known for so long. Tears streak down his cheeks while he slumbers, a different kind of rest than he knew in the coldness of his bed that was not his bed in that monster realm.

—

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic

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gayuu-the-necromancer · 3 months

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Roger: "Oh, about that."

Harrison: "First of all, why didn't you say anything about knowing them?"

Roger: "Because you didn't ask me."

Harrison: *sighs*

Roger: "Besides, I don't have a very close relationship with them either."

Roger: "So, it's hard to say whether they can be trusted."

Harrison: ".....So, how did you know each other?"

Roger: "Just a doctor and patient relationship. Jude's got weak bronchial tubes to begin with."

Roger: "They used to come to my parents' house sometimes, when my dad was a town doctor, because they said my dad had good skills."

Roger: "When he was a patient of my father's, I knew him, but....."

Roger: "Then one night, he rolled in, saying he had been stabbed with a knife. Not to my dad, but to me."

Harrison: ".....Do you know why was he stabbed?"

Roger: "All he said was he got stabbed because of a grudge."

------FLASHBACK------

Jude: "I won't say anything more than that. Don't ask me anymore."

Roger: "Oh, really? Well, I can't believe you're asking me instead of my dad just because you didn't want to make it public."

Jude: "You wanted a training ground for your techniques, right?"

Jude: "You can practice on me without a medical license."

Jude: "In return, we won't tell anyone about how I got treated to keep the reputation of your father's hospital intact."

Roger: "Good for both of us, huh? Well, guess that's true too."

Ellis: ".....Will he be okay? Mr. Roger."

Roger: "Ah, don't worry. He's a valuable training ground, so I won't kill him."

Ellis: "Thank god. I can't have him dying now."

Roger: "What's that? Then when would you let him die?"

Ellis: "When he's at the happiest moment of his life...."

Roger: "Oh? Then there's a long way to go if you keep hurting yourself like this everyday."

Jude: "Hey you quack! Either stitch me up or pull out the needle. I'm gonna die anyway if you leave it like that!"

-----FLASHBACK ENDS-----

Harrison: "....So you treated him before you got a medical license."

Roger: "Hahaha. Isn't the statute of limitations now?"

Harrison: "Anything else? You know about them?"

Roger: "Hmmm? Well....Jude is an early bird and Ellis isn't a picky eater."

Harrison: "I don't wanna know about that."

Roger: "Jude doesn't go down easily and can drink at the same pace as me. But Ellis gets drunk easily."

Harrison: "No. Not that.....I don't want their unnecessary profile information in my head."

Roger: ".....Like I said, my story won't be much of a help to judge whether to trust them or not."

Roger: "There are things they're keeping from me too. I heard they're doing a research that costs a lot of money or something."

Roger: "Well, I don't know if you can trust them, but I at least am sure that they are people who won't do anything half-heartedly."

Roger: "Was that helpful?"

Harrison: ".....Well, sort of. At least the information I got from you wasn't false."

Roger: "Then I'm glad."

...........

Liam: "Found you."

Harrison: "Hm? .....Ah, how did you know I was here?"

Liam: "I heard from Will. Are you working?"

Harrison: "I wanted a distraction from the report. That's all."

Liam: "Oh. I wanted to report something. Is it not okay now?"

Harrison: "It's fine. I lost concentration anyways...when you called for me."

Harrison: "So, what is it?"

Liam: "Okay. First, Jude..."

Liam: "I heard that he enrolled in a public school through a doctor or....was it a scholar, I think?"

Liam: "Isn't that surprising? I bet it must have been hard for him to fit in with all those aristocratic kids....I'm curious how it was like for him?"

Liam: "Ellis on the other hand, he never went to school."

Liam: "His father used to be a teacher at the church, but they split up a long time ago."

Liam: "Ah...I also promised to go skating with Ellis by the lake next time."

Harrison: "Wow. How did you manage to get those two to talk about themselves....? I didn't see you at the castle last few days."

Liam: "I just went invisible and followed them, found out what they have been doing over for the past few days."

Liam: "All the way home?"

Harrison: "....You went that far?"

Liam: "I thought Harry would be happy. Well, half of it was simply my curiosity as a cat."

Liam: "If I didn't follow them and tried talking to them directly, I think they'd say, 'I can't trust you'."

Liam: "I feel like it's a bit inconclusive...."

Harrison: "That look on your face, you're up to something...."

Liam: "That's my evil buddy! You know me so well!"

Liam: "So, why don't you give them a try?"

#ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #cybird #ikemen villain #ikemen villains #ikemen villains jude #ikemen villains ellis

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