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luimagines · 2 years

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BOO! Hewwo!!!

I’m sure someone’s requested this already but I wanted to add into the hype- Part 2 for “there was only one bed” 🥺 ILY HAPPY ANNIVERSARY

Of course! Thank you, Anti! You got it, Bestie!

Masterlist

This follows the first part, where you can read right here!

It includes Legend, Wild and Warrior.

Content under the cut.

Legend

Legend woke up in the middle night as thunder shattered the peace of the hour. Lightning lit up the room for brief moments of time before he was shrouded in darkness once more.

There a spark in Legend’s mind that he was home again. This was his bed. the storm was raging just before and the lightning... lit up the silhouette of his uncle as the lantern light caressed his old face. “Link.”

Legend’s breath hitched. He blinked and the vision was gone. The effects however were anything but. With his heart pounding and his breath becoming harder and harder to obtain, he could barely hold himself anchored to reality anymore.

It felt... wet? Was there water on his face?

Lightning strike again and Legend feels like he’s losing balance. He’s tossed left and right and up and down. Lightning strike again and it’s closer this time. He jumps and yells, trying to hold onto the rope and he sails the seas- no seeing an single island in sight-

“Link!” Hands land on his shoulders- shatter the second illusion of the night.

You look up at him, wide eyed and concerned. There’s a question in your eyes but it’s a gentle look. You take a breath and rub his shoulders consolingly. “It’s ok. We’re ok. It’s just a dream.”

You’re wrong about that. It was real. It was very much real and he was there and he can never see their faces again-

“Link, look at me.” You guide his face towards yours. You reach up and wipe the tears that have traitorously leaked form his eyes. Legend gulps and meets you head on, only vaguely remembering your earlier taunt. “Legend, you coward.”

He’s not a coward. He won’t let you think that of him. So help him-! Not you.

You sigh and run your hands over his hair. You stay there with him in the quiet, letting him get his breath together without saying a word. He can hear you gulp after a while and he realizes that you’re still tired too. But he’s not in a place where he can use his voice just yet.

You don’t seem to mind though. You just keep petting him and rubbing soothing circles on his back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Legend shakes his head. He won’t share those horrors with you. Not now. Not like this.

You hum and look away from him. You reach behind and set the pillow up again, fluffing it for good measure.

“Come on.” You push him back, letting his head rest against the pillow first. You make yourself comfortable against him next and bring the blanket back over the two of you.

Legend can feel his heart beat continue to pound against his ribcage. there’s very little that he can control in this situation. This isn’t a side of him that he wanted you to see. But like most things in his life he doesn’t get to decide who witnesses it and who gets hurt from it.

“....I’m sorry.” He croaks out at last. “I didn’t mean to wake up.”

“I don’t mind.” You reply quietly. Legend isn’t inclined to believe you.

Suddenly you start... singing? Humming. The tune is unfamiliar to him and you go back to playing with his hair. Your heart beats much calmer against his own and your breath is quiet and soft.

Legend focuses on that instead, letting the melody drift over him. Between the warmth, your weight, your attention and your song, Legend begins to let go of his panic and sorrow. The memories fade away and the storm calms down. The rain is unrelenting but the the thunder has stopped and the lightning has moved to other places of the world

Legend falls asleep once more.

Wild

Wild woke up after the sun had risen for a change. He was used to early morning and earlier chores to complete. So the quiet and undemanding morning was well worth the welcome.

He stretched and yawned, nothing thinking much of the night before before he collided with unexpected mass.

He freezes and finally opens his eyes and comes face to face your with your own. Wild gapes like a fish and can feel his heart stop beating in his chest.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” You smile. “Sleep well?”

Wild nods and daringly looks down to get more information about your position.

He didn’t anticipate to figure out that he slept with his head to your chest. The blush covers his face instantly and he scrambles to get off of you. “ Oh by the three! I’m so sorr-”

He falls off of the bed.

You blink and dive to the edge of the bed, reaching out to grab him but you were a second too slow. You pop your head over the side and scan Wild for any new injuries. “Are you ok?”

“Fine. Awesome. I’m awesome. You?” Wild can feel his body struggle to keep up with the movements that he wants to do so that he can save face and get back up to his feet.

Wild feels only a marginal drop of despair drop into his soul when he sees you grin at his expanse. By the look in your eye, you want to laugh but he’s thankful that you don’t.

“I was kept warm and comfortable.” You tease with a little wink. “But I also feel awesome too.”

“Right.” Wild brushes himself down, hoping that his blush isn’t as obvious as it feels. “Um... I should get started on breakfast then.”

“Don’t bother.” Your words cut him from his escape route. “Warrior came by earlier to see if you were awake but I told him to shut up and let you sleep. So someone is taking care of the food this time around. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get a taste of what the inn has to offer.”

Wild knows that his blush is gone by the way he pales. “Warrior came by?”

“Yup.” You reply easily.

Wild bite his lip.

You finally laugh a bit. “Don’t worry. I think I scared him enough that you won’t be teased for drooling on me.”

“Drool-?” Wild pales even further, feeling his chances slip through his fingers.

You nod and finally get out of the bed. You pull on your shirt and sure enough, there’s a small wet patch by your shoulder. “Not bad, all things considered. At least it wasn’t the entire time.”

Wild brings his hand up to cover his mouth. “That’s so embarrassing. I’m so sorry.”

You giggle and shake your head. “It was cute. I can’t even be mad. You were so out of it. How tired were you?”

A cough. “Very.”

“I could tell.” You smile and walk over to pat his head. “But don’t worry. You look a lot better now. There’s a bit of color to your face and you’re back to yourself.”

You do a little twirl and strike a pose. “What about me? Am I good?”

“Incredible.” Wild blurts out before he can stop himself.

“Good to know I wake up like this then.” You laugh and pat his shoulder as you make your way towards the door. “I’ll try and buy you some time to get ready for the day.”

“Thanks. Love you.” Wild puts his foot in his mouth and freezes.

“No problem robblem.” You respond before his other words hit you. “Wha-”

Someone calls you from just beyond the outer corridor and you’re forced to respond instead of questioning him. “Coming!”

“I’ll see you there!” Wild grins and ushered you out of the door. “I’ll be there soon enough. Thank you. You’re the best.”

Wild shuts the door and collapses onto the floor. “Why am I like this?”

Warrior

This was a mistake.

Warrior woke up early as he normally did and found himself in a situation.

It was one he was dreaming about for a while now but he wasn’t about to hope for them to be a reality. The issue with these dreams of his suddenly becoming real was that you were the unwilling participant. And how he longed for your willing participation.

Your legs were intertwined with his. His arms were around your back and your arms held him close. You were sound asleep against him, forgoing the pillow and using his chest as your head’s resting place.

It was an honor, in his eyes. But the question is now, how does he get out without waking you up?

The sun had barely begun to rise above the horizon. It wouldn’t be fair to you to have you get up at the same time as he does. You deserved to sleep more. Especially since you mentioned having slept so horrible the night prior.

Warrior sighed, absentmindedly running his hand over your hair. He tried to relax but this was beginning to stir something within him. Slowly, and it had to be slowly or else he risked throwing you out of the small bed as it was, he turned you around.

From there, he came to another problem. One, was that he had to get up now or else he would have to start putting his weight on you and two, you wouldn’t let go. Sure your head now rested on the pillow beneath you, but that didn’t change the way you clung to him.

Warrior let out a huff and and shook his head. With one hand to hold his body up, he had to use the other to pry your hands away from each other and eventually put them by your side once more.

That didn’t work.

Somehow, despite your still unconscious state, you felt the disturbance and weren’t having it. You clung tighter and managed to bring Warrior down to the bed once more.

Warrior has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. He looks down at you, in way that could be described as lovingly and gently brushes the hair from your face. He sighs to himself and smiles. “Good morning.”

“..mmhmh...”

Warrior grins and tries again. You hold on tighter once more and Warrior chuckles to himself. “...You’re not making this easy...”

You don’t reply.

Warrior blows some of his hair out of his face and tries to come up with another solution that resolves with him getting out of the small bed, and with you still sound asleep. Frankly, he doesn’t see how to do it without trying what he did before and just... go slower. Warrior doesn’t have much faith in his own plan.

He reaches around again, gently putting as much of his weight onto the bed next to you and tries to unlatch you from his body. He goes slowly and quietly, trying his best to not over stretch himself this early in the morning.

You blink your eyes opens despite his best effort and pull your hands back to rub your eyes. “...Link?”

And oh how he longed to hear you say his name. So soft and innocent with early morning tenderness. His heart clenches in his chest and he finds himself reciprocating the tone. “Easy. Go back to sleep.”

“...What time is it?” You mumbled, already fighting the way your eyes close. “Come back to sleep.”

Warrior shakes his head. “I won’t sleep. It’ll be ok. I’ll wait for you.”

You hum and Warrior reaches over again to tuck your hair away from your face again, finally getting his feet to touch the floor as he slides out of the bed. Warrior picks up the blanket and pulls it over your shoulders, tucking you in.

“Promise?” You whisper, not remotely looking his way.

“Promise.” Warrior chances it and kisses your temple. “Sleep. We’re ok.”

Part 2

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse

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lassieposting · 6 months

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Serpine in therapy for the asks :)

Okay so my headcanon is actually that Nef doesn't get a choice about going to therapy. It's part of the parole agreement he makes with the Sanctuary when he immigrates to Roarhaven. Whether or not he is answerable for our Serpine's war crimes, and whether the Sanctuary here can try him for his war crimes back in Leibniz, is still up for debate by legal professionals and he'd rather not risk it, so in exchange for his freedom he agrees to comply with weekly check-ins with a parole officer (which ends up being Skug, because China is spiteful), regular therapy, and location monitoring.

And like. Honestly, he thinks the whole thing is a massive waste of time - the Sanctuary flexing its power over him to make a point. He shows up, he's charming and personable, he flirts with the therapist and the girl on reception and anyone else he happens to bump into - but he thinks that before long, he'll have them convinced that he's psychologically normal and doesn't need their services, and they'll discharge him.

But like. The thing about Nef, aside from having a sadistic streak a mile wide and Chronic Backstabbing Bitch Disease, is that he's spent the vast majority of (at least) his adult life surrounded by people who would turn on him in a heartbeat if it suited them to do so. He comes from a world where abuse, manipulation and betrayal are not only common, they're the norm. That's the only way to relate to the world and to others that he understands. The Faceless worshippers are a nasty bunch who all encourage each other's worst impulses and learn to care only for themselves, and on the rare occasion that they break those habits, they tend to get hurt by those who haven't. So like, Nef's normal meter is completely and utterly broken. In his Handbook backstory, his childhood was unstable and emotionally damaging. As an adult, he has nothing to do with his family - all he had was Mevolent and the Church. His relationship history is littered with violent psychopaths like Christophe Nocturnal and Jaron Gallow, people who approved of and supported Serpine's own sadistic tendencies, but also tended to vent theirs on him when it suited them. This. Man. Is. A mess.

The therapist suspects complex trauma - although, that's not as unusual a diagnosis as it is for mortals: it's a given for millions of sorcerers who survived the 500 Year War - narcissistic tendencies, though not to the point of a full blown personality disorder, and an obsessive focus on/one-sided rivalry with Skulduggery.

Honestly, I think Nef would mostly use it as an opportunity to annoy Skug. He pays attention, but mostly so he can take what the therapist tells him and put it to use while Skulduggery is stuck in the car with him for an eight hour stakeout. Psychoanalyse him. Armchair-diagnose him. Treat him to a three hour monologue of "My therapist said..."

But like. You know that thing where you start saying hewwo to mock other people who say hewwo, and it's kind of a mean-spirited joke at first, but suddenly you've unironically adopted hewwo into your daily vocabulary and can't stop saying it? Yeah.

Some of it starts to get in via osmosis and sheer habit. He spends so long mockingly telling Skug about all the problems that he (Nef) thinks he (Skug) has, that he actually starts to notice things for real. He can tell when Skug is dissociating. He can point out to Val that she has a tendency to pull away from and lash out at the people who want to help her, because she's terrified to be seen as anything other than competent and capable, and then he'll think, hold on, I do that too.

A lot of therapy goes in one ear and out the other because it doesn't work for him - complex trauma is just Like That. The standard practices - like CBT - seem like platitudinous drivel to you, and the fact that everyone else seems to think they work often feels like a great big joke everyone is playing on you. But he takes in enough to start making some small changes to how he interacts with others and how he behaves. He starts learning how to react appropriately to distress signals in the people who are becoming his friends, rather than seeing those signals as something to take advantage of, a soft spot to sink a knife into and twist. He's developing basic empathy, which actually helps him, because for once in his life he's in a situation where bonding with others is The Way To Get Ahead, rather than something that would get him killed.

And he's getting a better grade in therapy than Skug, by virtue of actually agreeing to go, so he gets to be smug about that.

#skulduggery pleasant #nefarian serpine #sp headcanons #100% tho hes storing it all to use to get into peoples heads in the future if he needs to

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 11 months

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If the M6 had any mental disabilities (OCD, Autism, ADHD...) What do you think they would have?

Brainrot's Arcana Essays: M6's mental health conditions

@hewwo-its-floof .... this probably isn't where your ask was heading, but here's an essay! XD I've actually been turning this concept over in my head for several months now, so you'll see what I could see each of them having but you'll also see why I haven't unpacked it much ^.^

(cropped because this is long and addresses each character)

I'm going to be totally honest and say that I'm extremely hesitant to focus on diagnosing fictional characters beyond lighthearted headcanons. From my own experience of having multiple diagnoses at different times, people and characters tend to be fairly complex in the way their nature, nurture, and mental health interact with each other. So while it's really fun and in many ways healing and validating to see our experiences and habits reflected in a loveable character, it's easy to fall into a trap of confining ourselves or a character to the diagnoses we're focusing on.

Asra, Julian, Muriel, and Lucio, for example, all have the kind of lived experiences that you could fully expect would result in CPTSD. Asra's parents disappeared while they were a young child and they experienced the extended trauma of growing up homeless on the streets. Muriel experienced that same abandonment and homelessness, and then that gets layered with his experience in the Coliseum. Julian has clear memories of the trauma of being shipwrecked, losing his parents, and trying to care for his sister as a young boy, plus the apprenticing he did as a teen treating soldiers on active battlefields. Lucio has a similar traumatic background with the amount of time he's spent in combat and the kill-or-be-killed world he grew up in. Portia doesn't have any memories before the grandmothers at Nevivon, but that doesn't erase her body's memory or the chances of second hand trauma from her closeness to her brother. Nadia didn't exactly have an easy childhood, but we aren't aware of any traumatic incidents before adulthood.

All that to say, there's multiple ways to interpret behavior that reflects a mental condition that doesn't match what's considered "normal." Asra can seem ADHD coded - we've seen them fixate on curious puzzles, completely zone out and forget what they're doing, and turn their living space into a cozy state of chaos. That looks a lot like ADHD! But, that could also be the trauma coping mechanisms of someone who likes to live with the luxury of having a space covered in their things without fear of them being removed, or focusing solely on things that make their brain happy in an unpredictable world. Or maybe Asra's just a naturally curious person who finds chaos comforting and spends a lot of time in their own head. Maybe it's a combination of all of the above feeding into each other in different ways!

The same goes for the other three - does Muriel like a more isolated lifestyle because of the trauma from crowds in the Coliseum? Does he like to keep his own heavily guarded space and set routines from living on the streets? Or are those autistic traits, seeking out a space that isn't overstimulating and doesn't require masking? How much of that is natural introversion and a general preference for calm, ordered spaces? He could be a combination of some or all of those things, but he's still himself regardless. If we were to focus on just one, we'd risk leaving the rest to fade into the background.

Julian has one of the stories in which MC plays a very direct role in addressing his mental health. He depends on them heavily to help him find new purpose and a new way to live. You could almost say that MC helps "fix" him, but this doesn't involve losing a lot of the things that make him so messy - it mostly involves helping him dial it back enough so that it's no longer unhealthy. (for example - he drinks as a coping mechanism, but the solution isn't for him to never touch alcohol again. he still drinks and has a fun time, it's his need to self-isolate and self-destruct that really needed to be addressed) He can still be loud and flamboyant and entertaining without having to pin his worth on how much validation he gets from it. Could those super high highs and low lows be signs of bipolar disorder? Maybe, but whether it is or not, Julian's wide range of emotional expression is core to who he is.

Lucio is his own special case (I mean, the story starts out with him as the villain). The plot of his route is his transformation. It could be easy to read narcissism into a lot of his behavior, and if that's a diagnosis his character was built around, it would make sense! It could also be easy to argue that his tendency to idolize himself is a response to growing up in a world where he had no control and felt constantly unsupported and ignored. But the focus isn't on bashing how he sees himself as much as it is on teaching him accountability around what he does with that. Lucio at the end of his story still has a sizeable ego, still sees himself as a protagonist, and has no qualms about being good enough for MC. However, he's gained experience acknowledging his own flaws and mistakes and it's enabled him to seek out a fresh start.

We could unpack Portia and Nadia too - is Portia's super competence and hard working nature born out of the pressure to be strong and steady for her traumatized older brother? Did that cause the hyper responsibility that kept her adventurous spirit in Nevivon way past her childhood? Does her annoyance with her older brother's struggles come out of frustration at never being able to process her own difficulties in favor of playing therapist for everyone else? Are her loudly cheerful attitude, tendency to fill her day with work, and love of escaping into books all masking techniques for chronic depression? Maybe all of that is true, but it's accompanied by a conscious decision to be optimistic and a genuine love of caring for other people.

We could speculate about the source of Nadia's insecurities for hours - what did her old dynamic with Lucio look like? Where did her hesitance to get involved and try to fix a broken system come from? What caused someone with such a focused personality to make firm decisions and express deep doubts at the same time? Does her quest for influence come from a desire to implement improvements or a need for control? Maybe her love of precision, good omens, and controlled environments are a result of OCD, or maybe she's just discovered what it's like to have her confidence shaken and this is what it looks like to move forward.

I've processed my own share of eating and mental disorders, dysphoria, neurodivergence, disability, and trauma. Some of my diagnoses only lasted several months, others took decades to work past, and a few of them I know will be with me for the rest of my life. They help explain a lot of how I function, experience the world, and interact with others as a person. But those conditions and experiences are only part of the amalgamation that makes me who I am, who I've been, and who I'm becoming. I don't care to completely define myself by certain parts when the sum of who I am is what's going to decide my story, and I like extending that mindset to the stories, people, and characters I interact with as well.

I hope that makes sense, and sorry for the unexpected essay!!

Cheers, friend -

brainrot

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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monsterfloofs · 5 months

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Luxe (Genderfluid Concubus) x Anonymous Reader (Sfw) Part III

Part I ♡ Part II

(Hewwo! It has been a while since I have updated Luxe's story! And I have... poked and prodded and rewrote this section quite a bit! There is. . . a lot here in this part ♡♡♡ I hope you guys enjoy it! You also get to meet the Lord of the castle, Luxe's boss ehehehe, who was honestly supposed to be the other love interest in this story! So if folks are interested in that addition to this story ahh let me know! <3 )

With how lost you had been in your thoughts, the travel through the forest roads felt like a blink. Hours melding into dreamy minutes, while your feet moved towards town. Your mind's lens remained frozen, reliving the time in Luxe's bedroom. The echoes of the past making blood pump loudly in your ears. The cobbled path beneath your feet overlain with the grainy image of your hands pressed against the door to the bathroom. The stillness in that room amplified every breath, every sigh. A relief bloomed in your chest as the first signs of the town peeked through the woods, the emerging of large stone walls that surrounded the village. You pick up your pace, eager for a distraction, pushing down the memories as far as you could manage. They sit at the back of mind, gnawing at your subconscious.

The town had a set of large iron gates that were drawn open to accept merchants and travelers during the day. You slow and eventually pause at the threshold between the little town and the deemed threatening outside world. Your hand reaches out, fingertips passing over the bushy peony’s, long stalky daisy’s, sprigs of lavender and abundance of other flowers that someone had planted there. It made the entrance of the walled village look more inviting to those who traveled the roads. Yet the walls were there wherever you looked. Looming down with its promise to keep out what lurked outside of its embrace.

When you previously lived here, this little garden was your favorite spot to venture to. It symbolized the very cusp of the outside world, as far as you dared travel into the great unknown. That is, until you had gotten a little older, and had begun to stray into the woods, foraging for edible plants and berries to sell for an extra profit.

And now, you lived within the sinister forest itself, completely on the other side of the story. No longer some sleepy forest villager who lived and breathed the tales of adventure at the only cozy inn in town. Folk surrounding the crackling fire, hats pulled low, trading forbidden secrets. You walked and spoke with legends of your own, albeit none of the tales you could spin, were anything like the ones you used to hear. However, you did now recieved the same looks any newcomer may get. The glances of admiration, fear, and something else were given both furtive and openly as you passed market stalls. How funny humans were, when you stood on the other side of the narrative. It made you wonder how much of those old tales were true, and how much was procured from flights of fancy and fear.

”Hello Ma,” you paused, casting a glance behind you as you settled in front of the stall of baked goods and treats. Ma was a portly lady with a round face, who was as close to the mother of the town as one could be. She fed the strays of everything, cats, dogs, and kids. She also had a habit of adopting said strays, and had taught many a child the love and versatility of bread.

You tensed as she pinched your cheek, “You look thin sweet pea, have a scone.” It made you laugh and feel like a small child again.

“I have been working very hard!” You proclaimed, as she shoved a tray under your nose.

“Eat.” She said in an admonished tone. “Hard work deserves good food.”

You put down a couple of coins on the counter, and reverently took a scone. Closing your eyes and chewing slowly to savor the warm bakery treat.

”I miss your foragables,” Ma lamented, “You will have to tell me where you found the little blueberries, not a day goes by without someone pining for them.”

You thumbed crumbs away from the corner of your mouth, lips pulling into a smile.

”Those were very good,” You agreed. Thinking back to warm buzzing summer days in the forest shade, shoving pockets full of tiny berries and eating handfuls more.

”If I find the patch again, I will pick all that I can for you.” She beams as you fish a list of supplies from your pocket.

“You have grown up to be so kind, always a kind soul, mind you. But my, I am ever so proud seeing you leave the nest to do good in the world.”

Your smile fades a little, as something bitter replaces the sweet taste on your tongue.

”Thank you,” You say earnestly, though you wonder, would you think so highly of me if you knew the likes of whom I consorted with?

You left with a few more uneasy thoughts on your shoulders, and a satchel filled with the few supplies the castle occupants couldn’t seem to receive without these trips to town. With it being months since you had even set forth in your old home, you also had bought a small box of pastries as well. Because bringing treats home felt like it was a necessity. You had bought baked goods when you had first arrived at the castle as well. An attempt to start off your new job right and raise a hand of friendship to the castle staff. Yet, you winced at the memory, as that hadn’t gone as you planned. It had gone so awry in fact, that you had accidentally smashed a baked good into the face of the head butler. That certainly wasn’t a good look for a newcomer, even if it was an accident. Luxe had blinked, their expression painted in utter bewilderment before seeming to laugh it off. That day, moments before you assaulted them with pastry, you could have sworn that they had been going to kiss you. You scratched your head, feeling your pulse jitter. You had a lot of thoughts about them. . . in general. Times where you wondered if they were only teasing you because it made you fluster. Yet also, the times where they had been kind and honest.

Now.

Now you weren’t sure what to think. They never did tell you why they were determined to woo you. They had given you the opportunity to find out, with a strange little deal that they offered to you, a mischievous glint in their eyes. A kiss for a secret split. The ease in which they tugged your heart strings into a befuddled mess. . . You pressed the tied bundle of baked goods to your chest. With your gaze focused on the ground you hear the sound of hooves slowly coming closer. You glance up and begin to move to the side of the road as a horse drawn coach trundles along the main street.

You are surprised as the coach comes to a halt before you, and the door is flung open with a bang. Inside is a well dressed man, who eyes you with a glare."

"You."

You turn your head looking at the others, as the folks on the street do the same. Confusion scrawled across their visages, one of us was in some kind of trouble, and it made the citizens on the street nervous.

The man crooks his finger towards you impatiently.

"Me, sir?"

"Yes, for heaven's sake, hurry up! I need a word with you."

There were many things you could have said in response to this rude man. A quick witted Luxe would have batted away this comment with an haughty flick of a wrist and a remark with their own sharp wit. You wished more than anything you had that ability right now. Your legs felt like lead, frozen to the spot as your voice died in your throat, mind churning like molasses. You couldn't think of what to say, and more than ever you felt eyes, so many eyes, looking you up and down as you stood rooted to the spot. You knew this man by reputation mostly, one of the smaller Duke's that flaunted the streets at their leisure. You weren't a part of this town anymore, and this beast of a man shouldn't be able to scare you, you didn't have to listen to a word he said.

He doesn't own you. An angry voice whispered in your mind. Don't listen. Go the other way.

And yet, and yet, and yet. That wasn't what you did. You glanced around, nervously looking at the bystanders who watched on with blank faces. No one was going to step in and help you, you hated the way you walked towards that coach. Hesitant and meek, as if you were compelled.

"Yes, sir?"

It happened too fast, a hand shooting out to grab your wrist once you had gotten too close. Like a snare that snapped shut, you were dragged unceremoniously inside and the door slammed behind you.

Your eyes had gone wide breathing in shallow gasps as you looked around, suddenly there was nowhere to go, and the crack of a whip outside had the coach jerking forward.

You rise onto your hands and knees, glaring at the man who was sneering down at you. You took in his cold eyes, the way his forehead puckered and the way his face was flushed in rage.

"There was no need for- '' You started before he cut you off and you purse your lips tightly together.

"I do what I please. I owe this village. You best remember that."

You seethed inside your head, taking a deep steadying breath. Picking up your spilled parcel and giving yourself extra time to force your mind to work again. You sit back on your knees, feeling the wheels of the coach sending vibrations up through the floorboards.

"What. . . do you want."

You spoke slowly, anger and anxiety making your hands shake.

There is a thud that slightly rocks the coach, and the man's face turns even redder.

“Where are you hiding them?”

“Hiding. . . what?”

“Those beasts!” He hisses, losing patience altogether, grabbing your shirt collar and pulling you close. “I know you come from that wretched castle! Where. Is. It?!” You turn your head as spit hits your cheek. Then, there is a thud, the wild eyed man jolts, his eyes darting from your face to look around.

The coach stopped and the air was still.

"Driver!" He bellows, "I didn't say you could stop!"

In response, a sharp crunching sound comes from above. A sharp heeled boot piercing through the top of the coach and splinters of wood fall down, you duck your head to brace for the falling splinters. Holding your bought supplies to your chest.

“It’s rather rude,” A voice chimed up from above, “To take a person without their willing consent.” Luxe’s face leers in as the boot retracts back. “Are you alright darling?”

“Luxe!” You squeak, “Foul demon!” Shrieks the man, his gaze fully on Luxe. You grab the mans wrist and twist. Making him shout with pain and reflexively pull away, you take this moment to scramble to the other side of the coach.

“Isn’t that a pity," Luxe responds lazily, twirling a piece of her hair between her fingers, "That a so-called infernal creature has more tact than you? If I were you, I would be ashamed."

“Filthy creature,“ He sneers, he reaches towards you, yet he pales as the top of the coach is peeled back like an onion.

”Don’t you dare, lay a hand on them.” Luxe voice drops to a silky deadliness you have never heard come from their lips. “Or I will be happy to gut you here, and now.” They wrap a crystalline whip around their hands. It glints in the sunshine from above, winking with a cruel promise. Each chink in the frame has little barbed flourishes that run the length of the whip. Like thorns on a deadly rose.

”Darling, the door if you please.” Luxe tilts their head towards the coach door, as their gaze stays locked with the man. You fumble with the lock, and slide from the coach. Luxe jumping down easily briskly interlocking their arm with yours.

You see the man, no longer fearing for his mortal life, spitting mad more than ever, screaming from the doorway.

”Don’t listen.” Luxe murmurs, pulling you closer so that the two of you walk leaned into one another. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” You whisper quietly,

"Thank the stars. I was afraid I arrived too late.” her jaw worked, unspoken fears had you holding onto them a little tighter.

Luxe kept her head swiveling left and right, a constant surveillance until she was sure that there wasn’t anyone following. “Hold on,” She whispered, raising a finger, she cut a line down in the air, and a strange window with an ornate frame materialized in thin air. “Easy,” Luxe murmured gently as your body jerked, “We’re going to step through it, and get to the castle faster this way. It’s a little shocking to look at, but this way you won’t have to walk all the way back. The demon gently urges you through the archway. Before stepping through themself.

It was like stepping through a doorway. The threshold of one room, into another. Taking a tentative step you now stood in a room you have never seen before. It made you feel small with things that looked oddly too large. A chair that towered above you.

“I am sorry, my Lord. Forgive our passage through your room.” You turn your head looking towards Luxe and your eyes slowly raise up, up, up.

Whatever you had expected Luxe's lord to look like. . . the being that was lounging upon their throne looked nothing like it.

“Darling, this is Iridyne, the lord of this castle.”

Iridyne was a giant figure, but not abysal black or red like hellfire. Iridyne was pallid, with a softness like freshly fallen snow. When they shifted in their seat, a very faint prismatic rainbow would move upon their skin. Multiple bright blue eyes peered intently down at you. With great horns that had the appearance of being wrought from diamonds haloing their head.

"Our human," Their voice sang like a chorus, three voices intermingled and harmonized with one another, causing your skin to prickle at the strange echo.

"Yes," Luxe replied, showing no sign of being inflicted by the strange hum of voices. "They had been attacked on their way to market, I would like to arrange someone to accompany them next time. I fear it may no longer be safe for them to travel alone."

Iridyne blinks and hums, three distinct voices flowing from them, each talking evenly, and layered one on top of the other. You tried to twist your mind around the layering of words and separate each sentence from one another.

"Who would you recommend?"

"Does the human want someone specific?"

"Are they alright? They look shaken."

Luxe glances at you, before raising a gentle hand, "One thought at a time my Lord, I don't believe they can understand you so quickly."

Iridyne settles back into their seat, eyes blinking slowly, first the two, then the third that was positioned like a diamond on their forehead. They begin again, at a much slower and deliberate pace.

"Squishy human, do you require rest? Are you injured?"

Your eyes raise, your eyes meeting theirs for a fraction of a second before looking away. You shake your head.

Iridyne swivels their great head back towards Luxe again, speaking again in three voices, all humming with different words and rythmn. You chose not to fight the current, to attempt to untangle the flow of words, but let the voices wash over you like waves in the ocean.

"Thank you, my lord." You heard Luxe's own silken voice smooth through the hum. You felt a hand on your shoulder, giving it a tender squeeze. "You are most kind, yes, I will look after them, they will be able to rest soon."

You were gently led out, feeling your mind twinkle with a starlit dizziness as your thoughts shuffled about to clear your head. Focusing Luxe's concerned features.

"Are you alright?"

You nod, giving a weak laugh, "I think a spot of tea will do wonders for me."

Luxe's eyebrows creep up, a tense smile twitching upon their lips as worry lines creased their forehead. "I shall make you some darling."

You sat at the kitchen table as Luxe cooked, their gloves laying on the table at their side. Sleeves rolled up to their elbows as she tended to a sizzling pan chopping vegetables. It was strange seeing them dress down. A part of your mind had been sure they could have done anything and still kept those white gloves spotless.

Food dished onto a plate and settled down in front of you, a heaping of pan fried potatoes, with chicken and broccolie covered in a glaze.

"A simple meal," Luxe tutted, setting down a cup of tea, before pulling up a seat for herself. "But you should try to get a little something in your stomach."

You nod, and bow your head, "Thank you. . . I really appreciate it. . . everything I mean. For coming to find me and for the meal."

"Of course dear, I know I haven't exactly been gentile about the way I have displayed my affection for you. . . but please believe me when I say that I wish to be someone that you can trust."

Your fingers curl slightly, before your hand slowly reaches across the table, fingers closing around their hand. You feel a brief return of pressure, as a comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You ate quietly, hand closed around theirs until the plate was empty.

—

The next day you took lunch outside. Sitting on a wide spread blanket. With sweet lemon tea cakes and cucumber sandwiches that burst with the flavor of cream cheese and dill. Chores had been minimal today, while the head butler had tittered over you and your well being. You hadn't decided what to do about the subject of needing some kind of escort the next time you would leave for the village. Yet you hadn't been rushed into making any decisions and you were glad for the quiet day, despite feeling guilty for relaxing.

You began packing up the dirty plates, setting them neatly into the basket to carry them back to the castle. A small furry creature bounces toward you through the grass, a laundry basket balanced on the top of it’s head.

”Would you mind taking these inside?” The small fluffy creature asked, many large eyes blinking up at you. “I have a lot more work to do down here, I would really appreciate it”

You take the woven basket with a smile. “Of course, whose clothes are these?”

“The head butler!” The little being fluffs as a purr makes it’s small body quiver with delight. “Thank you!”

You watching the being bounce back towards the clothes line, where there were set of wooden stairs and more of the small beings hanging clothes to flap into the wind. “Oh. . .” You’re heart sinks a little, looking at this new basket that you have in your possession. You leave the grassy sunshine and enter the quiet house, your steps feeling too loud as you made your way across polished floors. The last time you were in their bedroom. . . you felt your stomach drop and squeezed your eyes shut. Once again the echoes of your accidental snooping bubbled up into your forethoughts, it felt both shame worthy and something else. Something that made your knees press tighter together.

You knocked on the door of their bedroom, waiting a few heart beats before shuffling inside, once you were sure that Luxe wasn’t there.

As you put the laundry down on the bed, you cast your eyes quickly away from the sheets, and the ghostly image that was burned there. The splayed legs, with a soft hand creeping downwards towards the navel. The sounds the glimpse of what you had seen, was quick to resurface and a lump formed in your throat.

You chose to look at anything but the bed, so your eyes darted nervously around the room. You turned on your heels and your gaze fell upon a strange mirror. It was elegant and very tall, resting against the opposite wall. Roughly the size and shape of a door. Yet where normally the mirrors in the castle shone bright and glossy in their swirling wood frames, this mirror's reflection was not just dulled, but black, a black that let in no light.

You tilted your head, trying to see any light, even the smallest of glance reflecting in the frame. But no, it was as matte as could be. You took a tentative step closer, without thinking you traced a finger against the sooty appearance. As if it were merely paint and scratching a soft nail against it could reveal the vibrant echo of the room.

"Hello?" The soft upward lilt of the voice startles you, and you turn to see Luxe hanging in the doorway. You did a quick survey of their appearance. Not looking inherently feminine today, nor masculine, something in between the two.

"Hello," You mutter shyly, standing still and casting your eyes downward. Edging away from the door meant edging nearer to the bed. It was hard not to feel guilty, especially in this room. Did you look guilty?

Luxe voice comes considerably closer, polished shoes appearing in the rim of your focus.

"How are you doing?" Their voice turns soft, consolable, and it makes your heart squeeze uncomfortably. There was no hedging around the thoughts now. Knowing you had done them a misdeed when their time alone was so precious, and then they had helped you in a moment of trouble. It made your mind sink inches deeper into the mire of bad thoughts.

"I," A breath of air, a thought, an apology on the tip of your tongue before you flapped your arm weakly. "I brought your clothes. I didn't mean to intrude." You glanced a peek up at them, but they were studying the mirror, a pensive finger drawn to pursed lips.

As your eyes lingered they turned to look at you, a funny expression on their face. "Would you like to hear a story about mirrors?" A smile quirked their lips, as you stared on taken aback.

"I. . . I wouldn't mind." You answered finally.

Luxe looks back at the mirror putting a palm to it, and you watch with wonder as the black fades away leaving your reflections in its wake. "Humans have lore about covering mirrors when their loved ones die, you have heard that, yes?"

"Because the spirit is said to get trapped there, yes."

Luxe smiles evenly, "Something like that. It started with an oral tradition that was passed down from a true story about the yearning of the heart."

You watched their face, focusing on their eyes, how intently they studied their reflection.

"So someone. . . saw their loved one in a mirror?"

"Possibly," Luxe replied, "No one is sure who the entity was, whether the mourner conjured the spirit of their loved one, or their sadness called to something else in disguise. Needless to say, whoever it was spirited them away. So enraptured by the appearance of someone they had believe to have lost, took their

hand, and stepped through the mirror."

A chill wriggled it way down your core. "That's. . . terrifying."

"Is it?" Luxe pulls their eyes away to smile at you. "I think it speaks about the strength of desire. One can want so deeply that it can affect the world around them, and mirrors are quintessentially, vessels that reflect. So they are one of the easiest objects that can reflect desire.

"Isn't that. . . how magic works?" You murmured skeptically.

"Indeed it is." They raise an amused eyebrow. "And you think humans cannot do magic?"

They scoff at the look you give them, before holding out their hand. "Would you like a demonstration? This mirror is used to seeing and reflecting upon desire."

You feel your nerves bunch, "I don't think…"

Luxe tuts lightly as your hand slides into theirs. "Think of a place."

You frown, "A place. . .?"

"Somewhere that makes you happy," The urge affably, "Be it a garden, or forest, or even perhaps a bakery. I know you enjoy those."

Your palm presses against the cool glass, as a place drops into your mind. A garden, but not a big garden exactly, the little colorful area of flowers and plants that grow outside the gates of the town. You feel your palm begin to sink into the glass and you give a yelp, snaking your hand away to stare dumbfounded at the mirror. The reflection in the room had fade away, and what stood in it's place was a perfect portrait of the garden outside the gate into the village. Your mouth only gaped as the portrait moved, flowers fluttering in the breeze. The mirror had not become a painting, but a window.

You briefly see Luxe reach towards through the glossy sheen, before the gloved hand disappears into the dappled sunlight. The mirror's surface rippled as if a stone was thrown into a pond. When Luxe's gloved hand pulls back, a one of the hardy daisy’s is grasped in their fingers. Your heart beats a thunderous roaring in your ears as they softly tuck the flower behind your ear.

"It's very simple." Luxe says, eyes bright and shimmering. "And now you know how I get around so quickly within the castle." They chuckle, averting their eyes as their fingers slip past the shell of your ear. The touch makes you shudder.

"I. . . I see." You look back to the window. The sunshine and the bright flowers. The floor of the bedroom became the floor of the dusty path with only the frame of the mirror sat between them. The cheerful picturesque spot was only a step away, was that why many of the mirrors were of the castle sat upon the floor?

You lick your lips nervously, wanting to know more but unsure what to ask.

"Mirrors can show and do a great many things," Luxe continues, "They can show you loved ones, and goodness are very useful in transportation, though many of them usually need a sister mirror to shine before they can become a doorway. This one is one I have had for a long time, and has been used enough that it can travel to places that do not have a link." Luxe's eyes have a twinkle of mischief, "There are not many of these kinds around. Due to the trouble people have gotten into with them. Stealing mostly. The desire to get into treasuries was too much for some folk."

"There's a mirror like that. . . with Lord Iridyne too?"

Luxe smiles and nods "There are two in the castle, though our Lord usually just likes to watch the world go by within the glass."

"You said. . . they function based on desire? What do you usually see?" The expression of Luxe's face makes you backtrack. "That is I mean, where do you like to go? If. . . If it works like a door."

Luxe's expression turn thoughtful. "I typically use mirrors for travel within the castle my dear." Your face falls and they smile sweetly. "Not very extravagant, I know. A portal at your doorstep, one that can take you wherever your heart desires and it is used for butling. It is very practical, and I would be more than happy to teach you how to go about using them." They peered at you and the smile turned into a grin. "Would you. . . enjoy that?"

It was hard to keep the enthusiasm from making your body spring with joy. Learning magic, the ability in which one hop, skip or jump could take you into any room you may need? Could there be any other answer? "Yes! I would adore that!"

"Perfect. Then we shall start on that tomorrow then. I am sure there are other tasks you must do today, ah yes, and thank you for fetching my laundry darling."

You beam and nod, walking out with the demon feeling very pleased with the promise of learning a new skill. Luxe closing the door behind the both of you.

There was a newfound spring in your step, looking forward to learning.

As the door closes, Luxe glances at the mirror. The picture shifts and coalses to a new image.

You are in the depths of the ornate frame walking down the hall and heading down the hall, expression cheery but looking tired.

Luxe's face twists into anger and snaps a finger at the frame.

"Cast out this image. Now."

The image cracks, a long dark chink running up the sides before the break widens, the smooth glass has dulled back to it's matte black and the darkness overtakes the picture. Luxe unceremoniously falls back onto the bed, hands laced over their stomach as they let out a tight breath.

"What do you usually see?" An eager expression with curious eyes that made their heart shudder. They groan, placing their hands over their eyes as their spaded tail slaps against the bed with agitation.

♡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡｡♡

Enjoy what I write? I have a tip jar! I also take writing and art commissions on kofi! ヽ(*ᵔ▿ᵔ)ﾉ

#monster x reader #monster x human #exophilia #demon x reader #demon x human

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 4 months

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Hihi! Hope you're doing well.

I just wanna ask some headcanons where Marnie dumps Lewis in favor of Marlon (the better guy she deserves), because I feel bad for her man. And Lewis is too sketchy and weird and Marnie deserves someone who loves her <3

Also, I hope I'm not clogging up your asks. I know how full asks blogs inboxes can get, I just wanna say take your time answering them and don't stress.

Stay hydrated! (Seriously, we're roasting over here in the equator).

Hewwo, dear anon :3 And don't worry about it, you're not clogging up my inbox! Thanks for the wishes, and I hope you're escaping the heat too (we have +20⁰C at the moment, but summer is coming soon and it will be unbearably hot 🥲). Have a good day! 💕

_________________________________________

Yoba witness, Marnie had the patience of a saint and could understand many things. She waited and endured. She waited. And waited some more. And then some more, more, and some more, truly believing Lewis' words of true love for her.

But to be honest.... it wasn't how she'd envisioned "true love".

Hiding in the shadows, pretending nothing was going on between them (even though rumors of their relationship were flying around the Pelican Town)? Watching the mayor come through her window at night so they wouldn't be caught by the locals during the day? Lying to her own niece and nephew that they've heard nothing and there's no one else in the house but the three of them? Justify the dates with business meetings at her ranch?

How long will this last? How much longer do they have to hide each other for fear of "public judgment" (when really everyone has known everything for a long time and they don't give a damn!)

It's spring now - the time of flowers and love, and Marnie has to stand apart from it all. Immersed in sad thoughts of wasted youth and wishing in the past that she could find the one person she would be happy with. Really happy with.

Marnie calculates how much chance she, an old nag, has of finding someone, and sighs conciliatingly, realizing the dire result. Lewis had good qualities and flaws, like every human being, but why he acted like he really are embarrassed by her presence? And why was she herself afraid to say everything she thought about it? Why can't she-

"You look beautiful today, Marnie."

Those words brought her out of the fog of confused thoughts and bad memories. She didn’t realize that she was now at one of the most beautiful festivals in the Stardew Valley - the Flower Dance.

"Huh?...."

Marlon, whose compliment had helped Marnie out of her trance, was a little worried that he'd said the wrong thing. "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah...," Marnie added a little uncertainly. "Just... I got a little dizzy from the smell of the flowers." Marlon's emerald eye was perceptive, but still didn't probe his old friend further. 'You look beautiful today, Marnie...' it had been so long since she'd heard those words....

Why should she keep waiting...?

"Say...," Marnie began cautiously, turning her head toward Marlon, "would you like to dance with me?"

Normally the old adventurer's face was stingy with emotion, but Marnie's question caught him off guard. "Are you sure? I haven't danced in over twenty years..." "Neither have I." Marnie was more sure of her own words than ever. "And don't worry, I don't remember much of the moves either. But who knows what will happen tomorrow? Maybe tonight will be the last chance to have some fun?" Why is she lashing out at him? Why is she even trying? How silly of her-

Marlon stood in front of her and extended his hand to her, asking her to dance. "Then I ask for your hand, and let's go have some fun. Just like old times."

To the smooth music, gathering surprised but approving glances from the other dancers and one indignant glance from Lewis, Marnie held Marlon's hands, letting her forget all her problems and troubles. It was as if time itself had stopped. Just him, her, and their dance.

#thanks for the ask!#I'm usually a fan of both Marnie/Lewis and Marnie/Marlon situations #Although I have become more interested in Marnie/Marlon lately 😊#stardew valley #sdv #sdv marnie #sdv marlon #sdv headcanons

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the-pit-of-space · 4 months

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hewwo. are you obsessed with modded minecraft from a young age? are you not, nd want to fuck around w minecraft mods for the first time? do you love a good bit of minecraft based violence?

then come, consider joining our server! currently unnamed. taking suggestions

me and my partner @this-is-why-names-are-hard are running interest checks to see if anyone would be interested in joining a 1.12 (final version tbd) modded minecraft server for purposes of lighthearted violence. the mod list is not fully set, we still have some tweaking to do to see if we can get things to work, but itll be based on Tekkit Reloaded, so if your familiar with any of those mods (buildcraft, railcraft, thaumcraft, projecte, industrialcraft 2, etc.) then youll have a lovely time!

thisll be a very lighthearted server, we are simply craving violence for enrichment. i know im the kind of player who gets really discouraged whenever i loose all my stuff, or have a major setback that wrecks days of progress, so the violence will be 100% consentual! this isnt a free for all, any potential griefing/stealing will be negotiated beforehand!! so thats not somethin youll need to worry abt

n e way ive rambled on long enough, here have a poll!!

#minecraft #minecraft server #modded minecraft #also we will heavily be bringing og yogscast energy to it. we have some hermitcraft fans waiting the wings who will be bringin those vibes #so if thats. a pro. pls consider

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ping-ski · 1 month

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Hewwo!!! :3 I hope you are having an amazing day, here is a whole plate of cupcakes! Would it be possible for you to share a few lore details about your Eclipsed By You AU story? I keep looking at the designs and I am so curious about what will be happening, I would wish to nibble on tiny lore crumbs, pretty please?

ama!! hihi! ! i meant to answer your ask much sooner! anyways, since you asked so nicely (and because i am pathetically weak to any sweets </3) prepare for some SERIOUS yappage under that cut

✦ AuDHD demands that I explain EBY origins before any details but you can totally skip this if you want! (Scroll till you see blue text! :3) So... Eclipsed By You was intended to be au/fic just for myself after work when I first got into DCA. I literally was pantsing a self-insert fic from just gameplay, voicelines, and a collection of scenarios I wrote in my notes app before I actually interacted with the DCA fandom lol. I was already in the process of writing it to be a proper fic and planned to make an AO3 acc to post it! I took some time away from it tho cause I got busy irl. During my break I did start to interact more the fandom! The first proper DCA fic I read was 'Solar Lunacy' by BamSara a few months back as a recommendation from a mutual I had from another fandom. I had told them about my fic idea and they suggested I read the fic as my fic had reminded them of SL. After reading through, I was kind of bummed initially because I really didn't think I had anything unique to offer with my own fic that I was hoping to share. I stopped writing it cause damn comparison truly is the thief of joy. SL and EBY had similar ideas going on and I just didn't feel like it was worth posting my fic cause it didn't feel "special" to me anymore. It was easy to give up since writing is really not my strong suit at all, so then I fell back to just drawing! I only came back to it despite the 19 other DCA aus I have lined up rn cause honestly I remembered that wrote it for my own enjoyment! Why did that have to change? Albeit, I did scrap lots of what I initially wrote and started fresh cause my interpretation of DCA changed. Regardless, EBY was always going to be a self-indulgent DCA/Reader fic taking place at the Pizza Plex. Sure not anything original, but that's just a fact of being a creative in general tbh. I felt silly when I realized that haha. I'm having fun and they make me smile, so who cares if its been done before lol. I still enjoy Solar Lunacy and still am a fan of BamSara! (the cotl content has been fueling me lmao)

✦ Some bits on Eclipsed By You- The main part of your ask lol! ✿ On the au/fic name: I actually stole it from another au (of the many) I have. No particular reason for it! I was writing EBY and that au around the same time and alternated working on the two throughout the day. That au is now nameless (actually it's nicknamed "Messiah" as I type) cause EBY grew onto me for what it is now! ✿ On DCA's designs: This might be kind of disappointing lol but- there isn't much of a lore/plot reason for their designs? They just look that way cause... why not :3 It's also part of just how I interpret DCA into my artstyle. Otherwise, they can be interpreted as the canon designs early on! Atleast until some future upgrades! ✿ When in SB are we? Everywhere /hj. EBY will have some pre-virus and post-virus stuff just for funsies! I'm dying to yap but if I say anymore I will get carried away 100%. ✿ On EBY!Eclipse: For this au, Eclipse is his own "person" you could say. With his own AI and personality chip to pair! Carefully built to be a dedicated host and theater bot. He is, including Sun and Moon, the entertainment <3. They are a singular animatronic in this fic! (like those 3 in 1 soaps except it's DCA /j) ✿ On EBY!Y/N: (EBY is a reader-insert, but intended to be written as gender neutral and an adult.) Y/N gets their own bit of lore and issues that may or may not be the stress/frustration from my 2 irl jobs thinly veiled lmao. They work part-time at the Plex as a general theater staff member! Each week, their tasks rotating between concessions, being an usher, and working along side the theater bots! (Kind of like a theater tech.) This is a part-time job just to keep them afloat while they work on their last bit of certifications and training to be a caretaker! They are pretty passionate about helping those in need. A sweetheart honestly. Though, if you don't like kids, maybe look away. Wholesome moments with the littles and DCA + Y/N is pretty decent with kids themselves. (Lots of projection from my own experiences working with children and elderly, as a caregiver turned caretaker. I kind of want to highlight some of my experiences with Y/N.) ✿ On EBY!Sun and Moon: These two are goofballs alongside Eclipse through and through. They all get to be sweet, soft, and doting I promise. Originally, before scrapping a good chunk of the og writing, EBY had a beloved sweetheart anxous Sun and aggressive Moon who was kind of an asshole(Before the rewrite, EBY felt so different. Like everyone was just tolerating eachother and fragments being held together with glitter glue n' dreams. I am very very glad it's different now lol.) Eclipse stayed fairly consistent though. Sweet house husband that he is. Now, Sun is just as unhinged as Moon (making him just as much as a threat!), but we will persevere with the power of friendship <3 We're gonna have some aloof Sun moments. He takes his job pretty seriously! Some goofy Moon bits who's giggles are light and airy. He is very unserious I fear. They're both trying their best, in their own ways. There's not much I can say rn without spoiling haha. It's hard to stay vague hrm. Or atleast I can't think of anything specific to add right now. (I may be able to answer some specific questions if you have any, my brain is just foggy rn) ✿ I'm simplifying it down to your "typical pizza plex fic" with pre-virus and post-fire shenanigans. I'm sorry if none of that is telling I can't think of anything specific cause I'm pretty sleepy rn so maybe it's a little boring sounding but I love it anyways haha Expect some canon-typical violence and non-sexual intimacy! I have intentions on writing the relationship between Y/N and DCA ambiguous so it can be seen as queerplatonic or romantic. (But this could very easily changed, I'm a shameless robokisser sigh.)

#pingquery #EBY #eclipsed by you #im fighting myself to speak and to also not say a single thing #self control whomst #self insert turned reader insert that is still pretty self indulgent all around #writing is not rlly a passion for me rn but i try anyways!!#i just cant draw every single idea i come up with so its easier to write?? idk it's def not my strong suite lmao #im looking forward to writing dialogue and scenarios ive had stashed away for a while #i hope that made sense im so sleepy rn my eyes are literally blinking at 2 different speeds dear god #again im happy to answer more about EBY that my eepy brain missed

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the-starry-seas · 3 months

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Last line challenge

Rules: In a new post, show your latest line (artwork or written), and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like)!

I was tagged by @corrie-guard-things, hewwo!

The door to the suite opens, and he reminds himself to add Myles’ biometrics to the scanner, if he stays. The passcode itself shouldn’t be any trouble. “Boba,” he calls. “Come here.” There’s the abrasive screech of a chair moving suddenly against the floor, and Boba pelts in from the kitchen. He stops short, the grin fading from his face to be replaced by a glare, when he sees Myles. It’s not until Jango gets down on one knee and gestures for Boba to come to him, that he moves again. “What was that look for?” Jango asks, standing with Boba in his arms. “You never talk when you have work.” True enough. Everyone who knows Boba exists is a threat. When he’s in the apartment, Jango doesn’t even take work calls, in case someone hears Boba’s voice. But even after half a lifetime apart, he can’t imagine Myles trying to hurt them. Not after what they once were. “This isn’t work,” he assures Boba. “This is a friend of mine, Myles.” Boba doesn’t look very convinced. Then again, Jango’s never introduced anyone as a friend before, not even MU-12 or Taun We. This is a new experience with a new person, and even at his age, Jango’s taught him to be wary of both of those things. This is probably the only exception he’ll ever make. “Not buir,” Boba decides, saying it as if it’s some damning revelation. “No,” Jango agrees, vaguely amused. “But he’s a friend.” Boba just stares at Myles. Myles chuckles, and sets his bag down. “Maybe this will help,” he says, opening one of the bigger pouches on his utility belt. There’s a second bag inside, a worn leather one with bright dyed patterns, that looks just like one he had when they were young. But surely he hasn’t kept it all this time… Myles eats a piece of candy from the bag and holds another out to Jango. His first thought is that he should be careful. His second thought is that he might not need to, if Myles is who he remembers. Half of who he remembers. But if Myles notices his initial reservation, he doesn’t say anything, just waits until Jango dips his hand in the bag. Bright green, texture similar to putty, wrapped in clear plastic with a symbol he doesn’t recognise. He manages to get it open one-handed. “This is…” He trails off, the flavour just the same as always, the plastic crinkling in his fingers. Apple, sharp and almost metallic at first but mellowing as he chews, still a little tart but becoming sweet. The same fruit that they used to always get from open-air markets. Bought, when they had the credits, but Myles was always proud of himself for managing the sleight-of-hand required to steal one. Jango always preferred the sweeter ones, until the first time they kissed, and Myles tasted like green apples.

open tags cause i Have tagged Everyone recently i think XD

#last line challenge #this is. a long snippet. but i like it! look at them!!!#king and lionheart au

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relaxxattack · 1 year

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hewwo. jake pesterquest route my beloathed. there r a lot of ways that pq depicts certain characters that i dont really think align with canon, but for most of them you could at least tell they were trying to flesh out a less explored aspect of them? nepeta's isolation, eridan's capacity for change, roxy's loneliness, even when they're not perfect they're still neat content to incorporate into headcanons and prompt further consideration into certain facets of the characters. but for jake's they just? hashed out the weird love quadrangle again, even though jake's issue with that was never not knowing what he wanted. he knew he was only interested in romantically pursuing dirk, he says as much multiple times, and instead of him getting a nonjudgmental ear to talk out his insecurities with the narrative almost seems actively frustrated at him. also there are just. so many interesting facets of jake to choose from, and they chose the one that had already been hashed out in canon. he grew up on an island with giant killer monsters on it and he burned his grandma's corpse after she was murdered by an evil alien empress whose nemesis she named him for and whose heir he's best buds with and he has a weird gender and . and. Why Are We Making Him Choose Who He Wants To Date. him meeting jade was nice but it was sort of just that, nice. this. was not intended to be as much of an essay as it turned out to be. i just have a lot of thoughts abt it. here. have a picture of my cats compressed face on a minecraft cat.

YES URGH. this is a good essay man never apologize.

the vriska/dirk tavros/jake comparison was also just. Unfathomably in poor taste to me. like how the fuck do you see those few interesting parallels and then your take is “yeah dirk is just as bad as vriska and is abusive”

#hsmeta

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oopsallmabari · 4 months

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hewwo it's 2am and i've gotten to the part of the rewrite where i make arya suffer >:3

On the third night, Arya feels as though she is boiling. She registers the feeling of a cool cloth pressed to her forehead, ridding the sweat from her face. Voices echo from the ceiling, shouting, barking, unintelligible.

With a jolt, she returns to her Harrowing, heart thrumming in her chest as her eyes close. Mist envelops her, filling her nostrils—the welcome of the Fade. She blinks her eyes open. A hooded figure stands before her, face shrouded in shadow.

It speaks in a warm, low voice, one she has not heard in years. My dear. You look troubled.

A deep-buried part of Arya wants to collapse on the ground, to hold herself so tight that her fingernails will dig into her skin. But this, she reminds herself, is her Harrowing. The Circle is putting her to a test.

A test your friends failed, the figure murmurs. A test, my child, that you cannot hope to succeed, after all.

Arya clenches her fists. “You speak with my mother’s voice. You are not her.”

Arya knows this perfectly well. The letter announcing Lady Miriam Trevelyan’s passing came to her years ago, only a single line of text, signed by Malik without condolences nor affectation.

I am the parts of her that matter to you, child. Your memories of her are fraught. The hooded figure reaches with a large, broken-looking hand outstretched. I am sorry for the pain. It must all be so difficult to bear. But that is alright. These memories are you.

“They are just memories. She’s gone now.”

She says it in a desperate attempt to make it true, to keep herself from thinking about her. She cannot knit together the image of her mother. She cannot.

Too late.

It starts with her favorite dress—a soft, lilac thing, the skirt swishing so it always looked as though she floated on air. Serene face, brown skin warm and glowing, gently braided hair. A sharp contrast to the acerbic bite that came with her disapproval. And Arya always earned so much disapproval.

Even so, she’d clung to those skirts like a lifeline, up until the moment she was dragged away. She remembers the vacant expression on her mother’s face, as though she heard none of the screaming below her. As though there was no child there at all.

She loved what she thought you might be. She loved that you might be strong, influential. A shame, then, that you would be so far from that hope.

“You’re a liar. You lie, and take a voice that is not yours. I—I have others that care about me. I have a purpose.”

Your purpose? What purpose do you have here, but to suffer in service of those who would lock you away? A filthy mage, if you manage to survive. The one who mattered most to you did not. You are alone. Back there, child—the finger stops to point its grotesque, gray finger in the horizon behind her—back there your purpose is to serve and suffer. But you will go unfulfilled.

Arya knows, somewhere in her, that this is a demon. Somewhere further still, she knows this is simply an echo, a memory gone rogue. She’s been titled the leader of the Inquisition. She has a purpose. She has friends.

But the voice is like a hum, a chord plucked from a harp, and it has been so long since she heard it last, and it reminds her of the arms that once cradled her as they rocked back and forth in a chair together, willing her off to sleep. She shrinks.

Your so-called friends believe you a prophet, not a person. But that is a mantle you can never live up to. The demon tilts its head, and as its voice shifts, Arya is finally able to glimpse its face. It is pale, haggard, with small, sunken-in eyes. Its skin looks as though it will simply slough off. But nothing can compare to the mouth—the demon’s jaw dwarfs the rest of its skull in comparison, with giant, yellowing, gnashing teeth all too similar to a rat’s.

Dorian’s voice. The Herald of Andraste, felled by a wayward dagger.

Josephine’s. Unable to protect her Inquisition, much less the world.

Leliana. An accident of fate, on borrowed time.

Cassandra. A cruel joke to those truly devoted to the cause.

Cullen. Just a mage, weak and pathetic. Unable to make even a necessary sacrifice.

Arya’s knees give out. She collapses under her own weight, tears spilling from her face. “You’re not real. That isn’t…that isn’t true.”

The demon chatters its teeth, as if to chide her, and steals her own voice.

I am as real as the despair in your heart, as your understanding of the consequences of your inevitable failure. All that you cannot protect. You could accept it, then. Join me. Your suffering would be welcome, your companions safe. You would not have to fail.

“I can’t do that. I—they don’t deserve that pain.” She can fail herself, but she cannot fail the Inquisition, not now. Her life is not worth the suffering of all those people.

And yet, what can she do? She is trapped here, half-outside her own body, unable to do anything but wait.

There is another way, then, if you insist on this path. If you hope to escape failure.

“I can’t fail. I won’t.”

The demon steps forward, bending down next to her. Aryanne Trevelyan, weak little thing, you exist on stolen time. If you are to have any hope of fulfilling your purpose, you can be weak no longer.

The gnarled arm reaches through her chest.

You will walk a path of pain. They have never needed you, only what power you held. If you wish to save these people, you must be their spark. A false prophet who dies in a blaze of glory. Perhaps if you had done so at Haven, your enemies would be gone. Your people would be better off.

Arya awakes with a start, surging upright in her sick bed, and scares the man attending her half to death.

#ari speaks #arya trevelyan #self loathing? in /my/ inquisitor?? it's more likely than you think.#anyway enjoy sad part of wip you are welcome she gets normaler eventually i promise

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honeymochibubbletea · 2 months

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Hewwo! Did you know that today is autism awareness day? Could we have some headcanons for a autistic darling with Phantasmo??? Pretty please?🥺

Ohohoho~! I’m not only going to give you some headcanons of an autistic reader with Phantasmo: i am also going to give you some autistic Phantasmo headcanons!

Why? Because i headcanon Phantasmo as an autistic person (or ghost in his case) or at least autistic-coded:

Some (undiagnosed) autistic Phantasmo headcanons with an autistic darling:

Phantasmo may think you’re a little “exotic” at first but impressively he quickly becomes way more attached to you than he would with others that are neurotypical (i think that’s how you call people who are not in the autistic spectrum…? I dunno, please correct me if I’m wrong!)

He just thinks you are really something else and kind of funny in a way? Like: you amuse him with, well, being yourself! (But with more flavor and being blunt way too transparent!)

He sometimes see himself in you and he can’t quite explain why… T-oby then suggests that his dad should take a test (and be diagnosed) to see if he wasn’t also autistic… needless to say: Phantasmo finds the idea way too ridiculous, i mean, he? Being AUTISTIC? No… he possibly can’t be! (Context: Phantasmo comes from a century where being autistic wasn’t seen as a good thing nor a “normal” one… people from Phantasmo’s time would ridicule openly people with any disability and even harass or do worse with them… that’s why Phantasmo/Victor doesn’t want to believe a person/ghost like him would be considered… “”defective”” (i am using a word here of what i used to hear on my childhood… before i was even diagnosed with autism… but was also considered “”defective”” by others… that was mid 2006 and 2010… and sometimes even still this day…)) he’s too perfect to be autistic! He’s way too prettier too! He can’t-

Then you heard him saying out loud all those terrible things about how he couldn’t be autistic… you started getting angry but even more disappointed and… heartbroken about how autistic people aren’t pretty nor smart according to his own words… you then started running out of his house and both him and T-oby tried to reach you but you were gone…

The worst part is that he kind of realized how stupid those stereotypes and hurtful ideas were about people like you: you are pretty, has a lot of wit, you’re… you are definitely not anything what people from his time used to say about autistic people!

He knew he had to apologize to you… he then saw under his feet a card that you have made for him and a present. The card said: “dear Phantasmo, i… started developing some feelings for you… i… i really, really, REALLY like you so much… and if you were also autistic, just know you WILL have my support and love! I won’t stop loving you any less, if anything, I would love you even MORE because it would be another common thing we have! ;) sorry if this letter seems a little too short and straightforward… but i think that’s all i can manage to write… words cannot describe how much i adore you~! Xoxo Y/N”

Needless to say… Phantasmo was in tears… he couldn’t believe how… he was so adamant about being also autistic… he felt like an idiot… T-oby seeing his dad so sad, had an idea: Phantasmo would give the test results to Y/N and would apologize by also gifting them something too!

Phantasmo agreed to the idea and peaked inside the present you gave him: it was a pink shirt with the autistic creature with a print saying: “hmm… i may be different: deal with it :3”

Phantasmo let out a small chuckle and put on the shirt (after he took off his sweater and lab coat… it was a bit tight against his chest but it was alright… nothing too uncomfortable)

After some hours, Phantasmo and T-oby knocked on your house’s door and you opened it… only for you to angrily shut it almost on their faces, which T-oby managed to place his feet in between and let out a pained “mmh!”

After some convincing, you let them enter your home…

Phantasmo then gave you the test results of his mental state and… he was indeed autistic! He also handed you a plushie of the autistic creature with a tiny bow on its “neck”…

All the anger that was inside of you vanished completely and… you hugged him tightly before kissing him and asking if he… well, wasn’t upset that he was autistic…

He (after some seconds recovering from your kiss, he could feel some steam coming out of his mouth and “ears”) said that at first it was hard to swallow this pill… but then he was happy because he realized that the stereotypes and hurtful ideas he had about autistic people weren’t true at all… you smiled with tears in your eyes and kissed him again~

T-oby watching everything unfolding smoothly and giving you two a thumbs up with a big smile on his face~

Now for some quick autistic (diagnosed) Phantasmo headcanons! Yippeeeee!

Phantasmo definitely stims when he’s excited about something! (He mostly stims using his ghost tail)

He lightly chews his fingers when he’s angry or nervous about something!

His tick is twirling his ghost tail between his fingers unconsciously!

He’s always torn between being a touch starved or being touch repulsed!

His hyper fixations are: horror movies and books; anything scientific related and classical music!

As you may all have noticed… this was supposed to be released on the autism awareness month… (yeah, yeah, i know… i’m way behind schedule… but oh well… *shrugs*)

Also, Phantasmo belongs to @fluffffpillow! (Ps: hey fluff, if you happen to see this… would my silly headcanon be considered a half truth to you? Also… please don’t get angry at me, this is all just some random headcanons that been swirling through my mind for a while now…)

#autism #autistic things #autistic community #autism awareness #autism headcanon #autism headcanons #dr. phantasmo #fluffpillow #ocs #others ocs #telltown #anon ask #look at him goooo #autism goes brrr #self accepectance

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