#x apprentice

MC: How cute! This was so thoughtful!

So I found out that there are angels that rule over each month and did a bit of research

I was born in July, and I am a cancer. When I looked at the angel for that month, Verchiel, it also said that he is the angel of Leo. Not knowing that was also a thing, I looked for the angel of cancer.

There are multiple angels of cancer, but I’ll be talking about one specifically.

This angel is the angel of emotional peace and harmony. They also bring love, loyalty, creativity, and fertility, and inspire nature. Speaking of which, this angel’s job is to tend to the animals of nature and the earth. This angel is also associated with the sense of smell, and most often smells of flowers.

This angel’s name is derived from the Greek word myrrh, which has been used as perfume, incense, and medicine throughout history.

O K A Y ! I know you wanted a scenario, but literally every time I started writing it as such the pacing and word flow was so shitty. You’ve waited way too long for this and even I’m getting impatient with my lack of writing skills right now. So, I’m sorry, but I’m gonna write these as HCs… please don’t be upset I’m sorry.

🐺They were curious about Lucio’s ghost, what it really was and why it was coming around now. The had so many questions and so little answers.

🐺Everyone advised them not to go searching alone; Asra, Muriel, Nadia, Portia… no one thought it was a good idea. Muriel the most, he insisted constantly that they stay away from Lucio. While the sentiment was appreciated, he did want to keep them safe out of care for their wellbeing, they decided they didn’t want to listen. They were determined as hell to do it, with or without the others help, and when they were determined there was no stopping them.

🐺They left the shop in the middle of the night and snuck out into the forest, surprisingly with no effort. Normally Asra would’ve woken up and freaked out, he must’ve been very tired.

🐺Everything went smoothly at first, nothing really happened and the forest was silent and still. Then, as they approached Muriel’s cabin, deep red fog like smoke rolled around them. A voice called out to them, calling them a “dirty thief” and telling them to “give back what the stole”.

🐺They looked around frantically and as they turned to look behind them they felt something heavy knock them over, and everything went black for a moment. Then they were on the ground, how did they get there? There was cackling and the quick thumping of feet somewhere closely, then nothing again. They opened their eyes to see a familiar face looking at the with concern… Muriel was worried about them. They smiled up at him goofily, and then things were dark again.

….

….

🐺Slowly they opened their eyes and they found themselves… in a bed that wasn’t theirs? They heard the soft crackle of a fire place and smelled the familiar scent of dirt and trees… Muriels home. How did they get here, and why did their body hurt so damn much?

🐺They carefully repositioned themselves to be sitting straight up and looked around at the small shack. Yep, definitely Muriels place. They looked over at the fire place, hissing from the slight strain on their neck, and recalled the events from before. They chuckled lightly, should’ve listened to everyone. Damnit.

🐺Asra was going to kill them once he found out, they’d never hear the end of it. Muriel was probably scared to death, seeing them all beaten up, it made their heart ache to think they hurt him like that. They sighed, outsmarted by and ignorant goat… thats a new low for sure.

🐺Then the door burst open and Asra was both scolding and fretting over them like a mother hen. It was adorably funny, until the saw the worried relief on Muriels face. God, he looked so genuinely scared. How could they do that to him?

🐺Asra’s fretting didn’t last all too long and he eventually left to grab something back at the shop, leaving them alone with Muriel.

🐺He looked cautious, scared to approach like he could break them. It tore them to pieces to see that. They gently gestured for him to come closer and he did, carefully kneeling at the edge of the bed.

🐺Neither of them said anything, but they both understood what they wanted to say just by the looks on their faces. Then, they opened their arms, very carefully, offering a hung that Muriel was free to accept.

🐺Gently, he leaned in and wrapped his arms carefully around them, like they were fine porcelain that could break at any moment.

🐺They ran their fingers through his tangly hair comfortingly and hummed a little song they heard Asra singing from time to time. Muriel softly ran his fingers up and down their back, listening in a comfortable silence. It was both of their ways to make sure the other was alright and calm down. And knowing this was enough for both of them.

☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎☔︎

Okay, I’m still really sorry for not making this a scenario, but I kind like how this tuned out. I hope it lived up to the expectations you may have set! Sorry about the wait.

（＾◇＾）

I've had this angsty Julian idea for a while now I also don't even know if it's been done before, but anyways, hear me out!!

**possible minor spoilers**

• don't imagine julian during the three years before the game's beginning smashed af

• don't imagine him cheating at over several gambling games because he's such a charismatic and shifty fellow

• don't imagine him getting caught a couple times and getting into rumbles with some tough ass ppl

• don't imagine him maybe sober or inebriated and jumping into these fistfights that would turn to knife fights sometimes

• don't imagine him walking away unscathed laughing like a madman bc he practically can't get hurt—he heals himself over and over

• don't imagine you living your happy little life with him at the shop

• don't imagine waking up in a cold sweat over a nightmare that felt too eerie and looking over to not find Julian beside you

• don't imagine feeling dread rise from your stomach like that of a premonition

• don't imagine hearing a faint rasp at your front door

• don't imagine creeping downstairs to open the door to find Julian on the steps of your shop holding onto his bloody abdomen

• don't imagine scrambling to his side in a panic, repeating "what happened? what do I do?!"

• don't imagine Julian trying to guide you through it, but not understanding a word he's saying either because his throat is dry or because he's losing consciousness with the amount of blood pouring from him

• don't imagine not thinking straight due to the pressures of having the one you love so dearly bleeding out in front of you

• don't imagine ripping an article of clothing off of yourself and applying pressure to where you believed the gash was

• don't imagine him cupping your cheek, telling you how much he loves you with everything he is and how he'd continue to love you no matter what

• don't imagine not knowing what he's saying as he's telling you in his native tongue and he never got around to translating purposefully because he liked to tease you and watch you try to guess

• don't imagine him going into shock due to the blood loss and watching his eyes flutter shut

• don't imagine you applying pressure to the wound with one hand, praying it's not that deep of a gash, holding his hand on your cheek as you tell him you love him over and over, crying

• don't imagine screaming for him to stay with you as you keep applying pressure, only to feel his heartbeat slipping away into nothing

• don't imagine his arm go limp, you lose your grasp as the reality is sinking in, feeling his hand slipping against your cheek and having his blood smear against your face

• don't imagine clutching his body, screaming curses out in anguish due to losing the one you love

**and for extra pain**

• don't imagine pulling back and opening up his shirt to see it wasn't just one gash, he'd been stabbed repeatedly in various areas

• don't imagine having a child on the way or already having a kid/s with him and thinking that's smallest piece of him left

• don't imagine having to tell your child/ren that that their father would no longer be around

• don't imagine having to tell Pasha, watching her fall to the ground in grief, holding onto her chest as she can't get a scream out

• don't imagine going to Mazelinka and have her sitting by the fire staring in solemnly—as if she knew something bad had happened, but she wasn't sure what until you told her