if the testosterone makes me go bald i fear it mgiht be inevitable. alas i am not on it yet its only the testosterone of the mind. the mindsterone. the mind testosterone you understand. it works through the power of placebo
If you do song inspired fics could i pretty please with a cherry on top have fem MC x beautiful doctor Julian inspired by Too sweet - Hozier
Me falling head first back into the arcana fandom has happened at the same time as me rediscovering my love for Hozier and that song just gives me such Julian vibes for some reason
I hope you have a lovely weekend đ
(PS your other Julian fic made me want to rip my own heart out and stomp on it so i applaud you)
My job, as an author, anon, is to make sure I break your heart every once in a while so I am happy to hear my job was well done lol! And now is no different! This came out kind of angsty because of my interpretation of the song, hopefully, it's somewhat what you were looking for! I do hope to hear if you liked it, my love! Also thank you for reading my story, and hope you have a lovely/fantastic weekend yourself â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
I digress, so here is your lovely story!
You believed Julian Devorak was an easy man to read. That, despite all the times he would say he was a dangerous deviant, the truth always revealed that he was a good person. Troubled? Of course, but there were few people you knew who could not say the same. Perhaps it was the rough way he lived or the stories he would tell you that made you yearn for him. Endless were the nights where you stared at the ceiling recalling moments with him that seemed too real to be written off as mere fantasies. In these moments, you would call him by another name, âIlya.â You liked the way it danced off your tongue and how sweet it tasted.Â
One day, when Asra had left for another one of his adventures, Julian had entered the shop. You were nervous and ecstatic all at the same time. The night before you had gathered the courage to finally reveal how you felt about him, and this was the opportunity that fell right into your lap.Â
Closing the shop, you ushered him to the kitchen with a smile. He sat at the table, looking intently at the wood, before asking how your day was. Smiling, you said, âVery well! I have gotten so much done this morning. Youâve arrived just in time, too, I was just about to have lunch. Are you hungry?â
Julian shook his head, and you noted that he seemed a bit quiet himself. You tried to not let the silence tug at your nervousness before turning your attention to making some tea instead. You felt more at ease with your hands busy.Â
Despite the busy hands, you could feel butterflies erupt in your stomach so you finally blurted out how you felt. It was a rush of words that tumbled into one long, hardly cohesive sentence. All thoughts about lunch and tea were forgotten.
âIâŚI like you, Julian,â You said, finally finishing. âVery much so.â
When Julian looked at you, he saw memories that he could not quite placeâBack when he was a different man. A better man. These memories, if he could even call them that since fantasy and reality had become muddled over the years, were sweet. He recalled a night with your skin against his, breathing each other in as if there were only you two in the world. Every time he closed his eyes to recall it, his heart ached for the feeling again. Yet, he couldnât seek it out.Â
As much as he was in love with the evocation, he could not drag you down into this whiskey-neat life of his. It might have been nice on the tongue for a while, but, ultimately, it was the type of influence he would not put anyone else under. You were good. Too good. Your personality was like candy, sweet to the core with an even more rich innermost part. Years had passed and, along with parts of the past, he couldnât recall the days he lived now. All Ilya knew was that his nights were late, filled with the taste of bitter liqueur, and his days spent trying to recall what or who he had done.Â
So, when you stood before him, eyes filled with intoxicating sweetness, with words of love dripping from your lips he couldnât help but feel guilty. Did he lead you on somehow? Lull you into a false sense of goodness that made him worthy of any of your affection? You were too good for him, high on the good parts of life, and he had no plans to change into that any time soon.Â
âIâmâŚerm,â Julian tried to clear his throat to get the words out. He saw the way your face fell, and it broke his heart. âIâm sorry.â
You turned away, hands going to the teapot on the stove, voice shaky, you replied, âIâŚI understand.â
Julian could hear that you didnât believe your words, so he got up to make you look at him. There were tears in your eyes and Ilya wiped them away with his thumbs.Â
Trying to smile, he explained himself. âErm, uh, how do I say this?â After another moment, Julian decided it would be best to just get out rather than try to be nice about it. âDamn it, you deserve the world, beauty, and I do not wish to burden that comfortable world of yours.â
You stepped back, eyes looking everywhere but at him. Thinning your lips, you finally looked at him. âWhat makes you think you would be a burden?â
âLove, look how you live, itâs comfortable. Magical, truthfully. How I live is, uh, nothing of the sort. You wouldnât want to have such a life,â He said.Â
âI would,â You were quick to say. âIf it was with you, Ilya, I would.â
Ilya, the way you said his name was a candy he could get addicted to. Shaking his head in an attempt to get the thought of you out, he decided it would be best to double down on the decisionâwhether or not it broke your heart or his.Â
Finally, when you had enough of his explanation, you refused to let him speak anymore. Somehow, he found that worse than if you had told him you didnât have feelings for him at all. Still, he relented since it was exactly what he had asked for. It was bitter-sweet to part with you in such a way. He could continue to drown his sorrows until dawn, and you could wake at that time without a worry about him.
When the door to the shop closed behind him, Julian looked at the Vesuvian streets and decided quickly it would be a night he would drown in a pint, just as the night before.
highly recommend: making that characterâs mourning WORSE!!!! make them play pretend with that corpse. make it seem like theyâre moving on until they start telling the new person to start dyeing their hair the color of the person they lost and start calling them their name to make it clear that theyâre hanging out with this person now to try and make them into the old one. make your grieving character put people in the same situation the person theyâre mourning died in and have them hope they die to prove it was unpreventable. make your grieving character put people in the same situation the person theyâre mourning died in and have them hope they live to prove that it wasnât doomed to happened. make your grieving characters actively harm the people around them and the memory of the person they lost. I love you morally dubious grieving characters
I wish depression were an emergency. I wish someone could take one look at how sick I am and go âoh my god, we need to get you to a hospital!â and then when we get there I get rushed into surgery and the surgeons say âitâs a good thing you brought her here when you did, this is a seriously advanced caseâ and then they put me under and spend the next ten hours pulling metres of long, sticky black strands of gunk out of my body, throwing it immediately into an incinerator so that it canât infect anyone else. And then they could stitch me back up and I could rest a few days, and when I leave the hospital everyone can see how much better I am and they congratulate me saying âwell done, youâve been so brave, Iâm so glad youâre ok. I love you.â
stormborns
kaledo-art
gummygunk
izzy806
blakekathryn
