#lars rorschach fic

[sundaynie]

𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐡

pairing | st. shelter!lars x mc

genre | fluff

summary | mc mulls over her first day at harp island

author’s note | it’s been a week since i started playing lovebrush chronicles and i am obsessed y’all. here’s a short, fluffy drabble dedicated lars rorschach bc that man owns me now !! (work cross-posted from my ao3 account)

His eyes remind you of the Mediterranean Sea.

A delicate blend of pale blue and subtle green hues. It's a little warmer in tone, fittingly enough. His oddly benevolent gaze resembles pools of aqua, with streaks of turquoise in his irises emulating the soft ebbs and flows of water.

I could drown in them, you think.

Waves of azure blue intermingling with seafoam green to create the most stunning shade of aquamarine.

I would like to, you muse.

A yawn escapes your lips as you prepare for bed. It’s well into nighttime now, just approaching 11pm. You’ve changed into your pyjamas after finishing your usual evening routine— a scorching hot, full-body shower and your ever-so-elaborate skincare routine.

Eyes shifting to your suitcase by the door, you’re glad you didn’t need to unpack your belongings. Your stay at this dorm is a provisional one since you’ll be moving out in the morning and into the off-campus housing that your guardian, Cael, had arranged for you.

Tucked snugly into bed, the journey from your hometown to the small island occupies your thoughts. It had been an exhaustingly arduous overnight trip and with your seasickness rendering you bedridden for most of the time you were aboard the cruise ship, you were thankful for your mentor to have accompanied you.

You hadn’t anticipated your arrival at Harp Island to be an overwhelming one. Your first day for orientation, sure. But stepping foot on the official campus grounds of St. Shelter Academia and meeting so many people all at once was beyond what you had prepared for.

Their faces and names are all a Gaussian blur in your head. The fatigue of travelling and having to assimilate to your surroundings so soon finally catches up to you as you sink into the bed of your temporary accommodation.

It had been a long journey but you were glad to be here, at last.

You turn over, gently resting your cheek against your palm, vivid blue-green eyes flashing in your mind.

Lars Rorschach.

You ponder the possibility of encountering him again. Given his status as one of the academy's key investors, crossing paths with him seemed highly probable. You mull over the extent of his connections within St. Shelter and wonder how far-rooted his relations are with the academy. His familiarity with Cael suggests they were well acquainted, evident in the way they spoke to each other.

It would make sense if he was a former student.

You speculate on the academic path he might have pursued at the academy, envisioning a business-related course, given his role as the CEO of Feinz Group, a thriving multi-billion dollar enterprise. You picture him as someone who was a well-known figure on campus, he is charismatic enough, after all.

Not to mention devastatingly handsome.

With his towering stature and golden hair, sharp nose and chiselled jawline.

Amidst all his striking features, it was his eyes that captivated you the most.

You find yourself wondering if they change colour, refracting and reflecting under different lighting.

Were they blue most days? Or did they lean towards green?

The memory of his eyes sparkling as he openly praised In Passing, blissfully unaware of your identity as the author of the manga, replays in your mind.

"I really like this artist. I hope to get her autograph one day."

His remark was sincere, with all the enthusiasm of an easily excitable golden retriever.

A small smile unknowingly graces your lips as you slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of aquamarine eyes.

—

end note | i already have like 917279645883624 lars fics + drabbles lined up so watch this space lol

[idyllcy]

cressie's archive : drafts/unposted

here is EVERY SINGLE UNFINISHED DEVELOPED DRAFT I have :3

Danganronpa

cruel summer // wrecked at sea

The setting sun paints you in red, the image terrifying yet so comforting to the boy. You look like the devil. Komaeda hears the sound of the boat approaching the dock in the background. "I'll see you in five years, Komaeda."

prom queen // ultimate pageant queen reader

Servant watches, heart heavy, mind a mess. That was supposed to be him. He's supposed to be the one to serve you. He feels you had taken what he said personally. It wasn't like he was wrong, but maybe he did need to apologize for not taking your emotions seriously.

white (lies) // eating disorder

You despise the taste of food on your lips, yet you lie to Teruteru about how delicious his cooking was. Komaeda hates people like you

(untitled) // yokai au // dead dove do not eat

Komaeda sighs as he turns into a human, and he grumbles. He didn't want to hex the area, but if he's going to have to find you, then so be it. If you die because of some unfortunate accident again, he's going to kill himself for real this time. 

and baby when it's love if it's not rough it isn't fun // pt of gambling au

Komaeda works to pay back that debt. Would you still pick him if he wasn't yours by force?

gold // isekaied reader

Chiaki clings onto you, unsure as to why you ran so fast, yet she spots her classmates rushing after you while you run. She sees the interest that flashes across Kamukura's face. She notices the ragged breath you run downhill with. Chiaki doesn't know what you're so scared of; yet, as you slam the door behind you, breath ragged, tears streaming, Chiaki thinks she knows.

(untitled) // future foundation ultimate god reader

Hinata is right. You don't like the look you took to be in the foundation. It crawls at your skin uncomfortably, and it looks nothing like how you were supposed to look. What happened to your hair? Your face? Your skin and limbs? You miss when you never took a form.

from elysium, with love // hades game au

With a spin of your robe, you're gone. Hinata stares at where you once were, and he does wonder how you do what you do. The incarnate of death. Hinata liked the cold of death. Your touch was welcome on his warm skin, even more so to his legs which burn of the lakes of Tartarus. The touch of death was welcome to him.

hype boy // food vlogger + college // dual pov fic

while vlogging at the newest cafe on campus, you pay Hinata $15 to bite and record him swallowing the coffee puck. He goes viral as a result.

DC

was it real or just for show? // engaged

You fly out because Tim Drake doesn't care for you anyway. Why is he so adamant about finding you if he doesn't give a shit and returns late all the time?

i want you for worse or for better // mercenary + royal

First Prince Dick Grayson has just had his engagement broken. That very night, he shows up at the pub you work at, drowning out his sorrows in enough liquor to kill an elephant

Red 19 // gambling + casino

Coin in your hand and wealth given to the neighborhood, you wonder if Red Hood is truly as unbreakable as everyone makes him out to be.

"Let's get married" // arranged marriage + soulmates // COMPLETED

When Tim's soulmate is slapped at a Wayne Gala, it seems natural that he should abuse soulmate laws and force them out of their abusive house. Too bad you're adamant about killing yourself.

High school, hi school // high school

Damian only knows you as the other artist in his class. When he crashes into your apartment on accident mid-fight, he worries you'll speak up on it. You don't, and when he turns you down at graduation, the story is supposed to end there.

surface, subface // hades game au

Tim doesn't remember why he still breaks out when his mother is already home? What is it? What is he missing? Why is there an aide managing mother's cottage now?

to live, to love, to lie // metahuman reader

You spend most of your time partying. Being overstimulated and numb was better than being understimulated and numb. A walking phonebook. A walking encyclopedia. Kon finds you partying one night, and one look is all he needs to grab you.

you're not mine // exes au

Tim never got to tell you he was Red Robin when you were dating, so he takes advantage of that and visits your art studio at night to hang out. Nevermind the fact that he was in the middle of divorce processions with his wife or whatever.

Tears of Themis

emerald green // arranged marriage

Years ago, Vyn remembers the feeling of his hand in yours, and both of you are unhappy. In current day, he navigates the murky waters of his feelings for you with you back with him.

Lovebrush Chronicles / For All Time

lion // high school au

When Lars transfers to your school, his flamboyancy evokes eyes from everyone — Including you. You long to be free like him.

Resident Evil / Biohazard

red means i love you // mutual stalking

"Almost forgot you." You grab the teddy, holding it by the hand as you turn it to face the wall in the bathroom. "I still don't appreciate you watching me and not letting me see you, y'know, Ada?" You start the shower, feeling for it as you huff. "What's the fun in sending you lego roses each day with cameras inside if you only keep them at your counter?"

the dead haunt the dead // government agent + plagas

"Are you here to finally kill me?" You stare at Leon, same plagas scars on your face, eyes now the same color as Saddler's prior to his death. Leon can't pull the trigger.

(untitled) // medieval knight Leon // COMPLETED

The fire crackles in your eyes, ashes burning and shattering as you stare, words tumbling out of your heart, eyes weary with an age that should not be possible to you. You look both wounded and aged. Leon has only ever seen those eyes on the men who live til sixty, white visible in both their hair and eyes, old age consuming them until they are a shell of their previous self. You should not be capable of such emotion.

american dream // Nouveau Riche + Gatsby 1920s Leon

Leon Scott Kennedy lacks nothing. A pool the size of Lake Michigan, a tennis court the size of an acre, a bathroom the size of a factory. Leon Scott Kennedy lacks nothing.

Call of Duty

signed puck: signed, luck // Hockey AU Simon Riley

He wants a minx? You'll give him one.

No promises any of this gets finished but this is for anyone who's ever been curious abt how much shit ends up in the graveyard also feel free to leave a comment or ask if u really want me to finish smth from this list bc like everything here is alr like 2k+ words

[kaedekolya]

as the frost thaws [ch.1]

‧₊˚☾ lovebrush chronicles ‧₊˚☾ clarence-centric, lars/clarence ‧₊˚☾ 7.1k words; chapter 1 ‧₊˚☾ rebuilding godheim, slow burn, hurt/comfort & recovery

The Daphnephoria ritual will save the dying kingdom of Godheim, for a small price. A single archmage, for the happiness of many. Clarence’s future is worth little, especially when weighed against the kingdom’s; it is but an insignificant sacrifice that he has long since resolved to make. The magic sweeps through him, shredding his insides, scorching his spirit—

And yet, somehow, Clarence wakes again.

Death has eluded him, and now he must learn to live.

➵ read on ao3

[stikybug]

POLYCULE BRAINROT 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO?

More likely than you think! The Mystery event gave my little gayhearted mind a delight AND spark of inspiration? More polycule hcs , love wins ! Again, under the cut because this did not just run away from me it yanked me and dragged me around like a giant dog breed.

First hc dump post over here

I'm sure after the successful murder mystery party Lars sets up little hobby activities around st shelter for him and his partners to have excuses to spend more time together.

reactions differ.

Clarence sighs and says he's a bad influence at this point, he joins anyway, work can wait a bit for them ( time itself could arguably stand still for them, he wouldn't mind that at all either )

Alkaid makes 'tiny' suggestions when on normal dates as offerings for more ideas, Lars catches on quickly, this becomes a sort of exchange habit they make. Lars jokes how his 'little spy' is good at setting things up.

He'll probably stop after doing that for the first time, a joke really isn't worth the expression Alkaid made for a split second ,,,

Ayn doesn't need to think twice before agreeing, an entire day spent with the people he loves sounds wonderful

Cael can't help but laugh to himself, his boyfriends are more trouble than he bargained for. Though it is 5 against one with little painter taking his other partner's side

Following Cael getting annoyed while also being unable to ignore the mess he got himself into, Ayn's concert has a sequel!

Which is, Lars outside his apartment with his partners in the background to 'serenade' him.

He has half the mind to ask them how they all got here without him knowing, but he's too busy trying to stop himself from laughing due to the sheer silliness of the stunt

Honest to god, he got closer to failing by the second. When he eventually asks Lars why he's doing this the most concrete answer he got was to come downstairs to see for himself

Seeing all his partners around, light glinting in the streetlight catching on their ring fingers he seemed to get it.

Matching promise rings for all of them.

He almost teared up with this also. He has never taken it off unless it's absolutely non-negotiable

Life seems to slow down when he has it on, every day proves itself to be sweeter than the last.

Aside from the very big changes they have all noticed small changes in their dynamics - It's been feeling more comfortable.

Many things have been admitted that nobody but lovers would be allowed to know, not for the sake of taboo, but as a matter of vulnerability.

The breakdown of these barriers probably started when Alkaid sent a message in a group chat

Recalling an odd movie that he's been losing sleep over - Of some sort of awful future that was in store for him.

Everyone knew what he was about, but none of them confirmed it until he finished talking.

He talked about an awful future where he became everything he feared he was; an elusive 'spy' who hides his thoughts and feelings even from the people he cherished dearly. A duplicitous 'wolf in sheep's clothing' of a person.

Maybe he wouldn't avoid becoming like that in the future, becoming an awful partner who wouldn't deserve any of them. Going behind their backs, deciding what's 'best' for them.

Before he has a chance to spiral fully Clarence says he knows what he's talking about.

He saw an odd movie too, where he gave everything for the sake of a future, and a person he wasn't sure he'd see again in a heartbeat, unaware of how much it would break her heart to see him give until his spark was extinguished.

He was also quick to point out that they, unlike movie characters simply yanked around by the plot for convenience, had a say in the matter of how they'd wish their fate to play out.

It's not like those flaws weren't there, his were hidden gracefully where most wouldn't take notice either.

But surely, if they could support each other without any judgment they'd spare all the heartbreak.

It turned into something of an admission session then. Ayn saying he saw the same type of thing, unable to get to the 'future' with how tightly he clung onto the past that was too far away.

Cael said something similar, the movie showing a past he was sure he'd want to remember - That eventually crumbled from it's own state of stagnation.

And Lars lamented how he'd be doomed to loneliness if those movies were real, and surely a lifetime of misery without his partners at his side, roaming endlessly without a companion.

It was a relief for all of them. Even with everything embarrassing laid out in the open, nobody ran, nobody decided that was enough to end it.

Despite their fears, it seemed that did the opposite of what they were expecting. With all the weight off their shoulders just serving to deepen what they already had.

There wasn't a doubt about it, they had each other and everything would be alright.

[lovebrushed]

hi lovebrush chronicles community! this is a cry for help

would any of you guys mind helping me out with the content in the Fandom Wiki? i'm already in a discord server where people are working on the technical game aspects (event rewards, leveling up cards, etc.) but from what ik i'm pretty much the only person working on the actual descriptions for the wiki.

there's a lot of content i need to cover so pls! if any of you guys would be so kind to give me a hand it would be very much appreciated

feel free to send in an ask or dm me and we'll work from there

[romance-rambles]

modern lars | i. beachside memories

Name: Blobby Gender: Male Nature: Bold Evolutionary Line: Sandygast -> Palossand Lars' first pokemon. They met on the beach while Lars was vacationing with his family as a child. Very possessive of his trainer, but also just as easy to manipulate.

3.1k, pokemon au + fluff, modern lars, reader is mc, series: n/a

DEX ENTRY [ULTRA SUN]: It likes the shovel on its head, so Sandygast will get serious and fight any children who come to take it back.

In all his brief time, Sandygast has yet to come across a sandcastle he adores as much as the ones made by a boy named Lars.

Every day, Lars comes early in the morning—alone, unlike some of the other children who give sandcastle making a try. It's a habit that started a few days ago, when he first arrived at the beach Sandygast calls home.

In his hand was a plastic pail, within which he kept the shovel he used to make the first of his marvelous constructs. It's the same set he's using right now, a beauty to behold, especially after Sandygast learned to ignore their garish flaws. And oh, there are so many.

Like the cartoonish pikachu patterns printed all over. What does a pikachu have to do with sandcastles? And the color.

Sandygast shudders at the thought.

They're a light blue, not unlike the color of Lars' eyes, that looks too much like the force of nature that can seize his hard work away in an instant. Sandygast's spent far too much of his free time attempting to find a better analogy, one that won't have him running for the hills when he observes his new favorite human.

And that, in itself, is such a far cry from his initial reaction that he, the ghost type pokemon, can't help but wonder what sort of enchantments the boy has at his disposal.

Because, back then, he hadn't bothered to learn the boy's name.

Lars was simply just another tourist who would make a mess and then leave. That was how these things worked, after all. And really, how was Sandygast—with his aspirations to become the most beautiful Palossand in existence—to know that the boy was actually the only human worthy of crafting his castle?

This, however, leaves him with a problem.

After all, Lars won't be sticking around forever.

But for whatever reason, children often fear him and he suspects Lars might prove to be no different. He supposes the reputation his brethren have cultivated might play a role in that—but Sandygast is a perfectly nice pokemon, entirely uninterested in run of the mill corpses.

Now, no matter how unlikely it is, if they happened to be in possession of high quality ones—

Which, of course, is irrelevant to the situation at hand.

With a sigh, he peers at the boy in question from his hiding spot among the sands. Lars is seemingly oblivious to Sandygast's presence, too engrossed in reinforcing the western wing of his magnificent castle. There's a determined gleam in his eyes, the kind that makes every bit of sand in Sandygast's body shake in joy.

At some point, as the work at hand grows more delicate and detailed, his tongue sticks out slightly. When his hair begins to interfere with his vision, he drops his shovel temporarily and brushes his hair back. It does not do him much good—he seems to be missing his usual headband, so he is simply stuck repeating the action.

A half-baked plan begins to form in Sandygast's head.

The shovel currently on its head is special only because it is the only one he's ever known. Frankly, he's not too attached though. He'd picked it up because it was the closest one but he's always planned on leaving it for something better.

And Lars' shovel?

Despite how terrible it looks, he's certain he'll never find anything better than that.

So, the next time the boy turns his gaze to the latest prototype for Sandygast's castle, the pokemon sans his shovel quietly creeps up behind him. His bucket, the gaudy thing it is, is left unattended with some leftover sand—there might be no other place as good as this to hide in!

Sandygast can only vibrate in excitement.

And then—

Lars places the shovel inside the pail, its blade appropriately digging into the pokemon's body. Sandygast wastes no time in claiming it for himself. And then, all that's left to do is wait, however boring an ordeal it is.

He's unfortunately on the shorter side, owing to the lack of good architects coming his way. The ability to watch the boy from this angle is simply out of reach. That's why he's resolved to ask for the biggest sandcastle possible.

Then, when he finally runs into the others, it'll be his turn to laugh. Snickering at the thought, he can only imagine the looks on their faces.

Thankfully, Lars doesn't notice.

Instead, his pale hand reaches for the handle. After a few attempts, each pull carrying more frustration than the last, he finally decides to look inside the bucket. Sandygast, naturally, takes that as his cue and allows the boy to pick him up.

"Huh?" Blue eyes—like the sky, he decides—blink confusedly at him. Uncaring of Sandygast's reputation, Lars pulls the pokemon closer, his scrunched nose a clear indicator of the amount of thoughts running through his head at the moment. "A pokemon? What are you doing here?"

Sandygast wiggles, his eyes lighting up at the boy's casual response. Well, casual relative to the horror stories he's heard, of little boys and girls running away, screaming as though they're about to be eaten. Which they usually are—he has to commend them for their instincts.

The pokemon shakes off the thought just in time to hear the boy ask, "Can you let go of my shovel? ...um, Blobby?"

Blobby?

Glaring indignantly, Sandygast—not Blobby—shakes his body. The nerve to bestow such a mediocre name upon him! Clearly, the boy's talents stop only at castle-making. He'll have to find a way to avoid his current fate, somehow.

Perhaps one of the boy's parents will have a better sense for these things.

"No?" Lars tilts his head, then looks around.

He'd picked a suitably quiet spot, so there are fewer people around. That should shorten the time on his search, whatever it's for, but instead, he aborts his mission halfway through with a sigh.

"Do you have a name then?"

Sandygast pauses his protests. Well, the answer is no. But—

"Well, for now, I'll call you Blobby," the boy decides. Sandygast can only bite back a sob. "So, could you please let go? I need to finish making this castle."

The pokemon shakes his body again and thinks. He's already taken the shovel hostage. Now, to explain his motives...

His eyes narrow at the thought. Wait, why is he meant to explain his master plan? Surely, the boy's already realized what he wants. There isn't a human child out there who doesn't know of the dangers of his evolutionary line.

Upon scrutinizing the boy's awkward expression, he realizes his previous assumption was incorrect. There is a human child unaware of the dangers of encountering sandygasts and palossands.

Now he's even more grateful for his diligence in fending off his competitors! What would this boy do without him? Lars is lucky he believes in open dialogue!

Wait—why shouldn't he just possess him?

Sandygast looks at the boy, then at the sandcastle behind him. The people nearby haven't noticed Lars' mistake in grabbing his new handle; even if they did warn him, by then, it would be too late.

But, he glares at the boy, he won't bring me along then.

No castle will ever be too big for him. He's a greedy ghost, after all—perhaps he'd been that way when he'd been alive too. And one does not simply get over the best castlemaker to ever exist!

Annoyed, he jerks his head towards Lars' sandcastle. The boy seems to get his point only when he points at the shovel stuck in his head.

"You want the castle?" Lars scrunches his nose. The creases in his forehead grow more pronounced when Sandygast shakes his head. "You...like the castle? But you don't want it? Hm...do you want to be the castle?"

Sandygast nods delightedly.

"I wonder what kind of pokemon you are..." The boy frowns. His normally bright eyes seem to darken for a moment as he grumbles something inaudible to himself. "Here's the thing: I can't make one for you today. But...I really do want to finish this one first. If I make one for you tomorrow, will you give my shovel back to me?"

Considering the question for a moment, Sandygast remembers the shovel he'd recently abandoned. He shakes himself free from the boy's grasp and flees in search of it, to sound of Lars' startled shouts. And when he comes back, the boy is still there, looking rather upset.

As he presents the older shovel to him, Lars finally looks at him.

"Is my shovel really that special?" he asks, tilting his head. "Or...is it special because it's mine?"

Oh, what a smart boy. Sandygast was beginning to lose faith in his non-castlemaking abilities.

If not for the language barrier, the pokemon would gladly elaborate further on just how special he is. He settles for vigorously nodding and stops only when a shy smile crosses the boy's lips. Lars laughs, combing through his bangs.

"I think this is the first time someone's said that about me, and not my family," he says, a tentative look on his face. "Do you want to help with this one, Blobby?"

Sandygast narrows his eyes at the boy. He can only hope his expression relays his message—Not. Blobby.

Still, when faced with such a pitiable expression, even he can't help but crumble. With a full body sigh, he scoots closer to the boy and patiently waits for his instructions. Lars' vision is truly something to behold; the rest of the day goes by in a blur of laughter and easy companionship.

And when it's time for him to leave for the day, the boy asks, "Would you like to be my friend, Blobby?"

Sandygast—still resistant to the name, though it's beginning to grow on him—has only one response for that.

He jumps into Lars' arms.

Lars' notes on the memory: That was my shovel first. Thief! Oh, but my family was pretty frightened when I came home with Blobby. It took a while to convince them I wasn't possessed!

DEX ENTRY [SUN]: Possessed people controlled by this Pokémon transformed its sand mound into a castle. As it evolved, its power to curse grew ever stronger.

Blobby glares at the magnificent castle in front of him—built, of course, by his Lars—before him, uncaring of the way the little boy his trainer had inexplicably decided to watch over flinches at his seething fury.

What similarities are there even? He distinctly recalls that boy, whatever his name is, mentioning something about fake blonds to Lars, giving himself away as one of them. Really, the blond hair is one of Lars' most defining features!

Long debates about the matter with the rest of the team had led to the undeniable agreement that his golden hair evoked the image of the shining sun, and what was Lars but a shining ray of light?

Well, technically, they had narrowed it down to a few things, some less flattering than others, but the boy didn't have any of those things either!

...Although—

No, the pokemon shakes his head vigorously. Lars had been cuter, even with his apparent lack of survival skills. Blobby spent years trying to rectify that part, though his trainer's natural curiosity for the world never particularly left him.

Now, you, on the other hand...

His mouth twists into a bitter smile. Naturally, one cannot simply replace the sun—you can only get as close as your wingless body allows. Like that man, Icarus, with his infinite stupidity, but smarter. But the distance between is infinitely shorter than anyone Lars has ever been surrounded by.

Other than Blobby, of course.

That part is implied rather obviously, considering Lars chose him. The same as you, even despite the certain glaring flaws to your name—

His gaze flits to the mediocre castle beside Lars', different from the masses only in the way humans tend to be, shaped by nature and circumstance. It could be much worse, but he's decided to be charitable to the girl who makes the sun shine brighter.

At least you cared enough to ask about his foul mood, though it only infuriated him further.

Huffing, Blobby turns his glare back to the root of the problem, seemingly oblivious to the amends he must make for his betrayal. It's not enough to knock Lars off his throne, but it's tempting.

What was it he'd said? Blobby'll "come around"?

His glare intensifies. The sun, the real one in the sky, slowly shifts to the west, readying itself for its nightly descent. You and Lars occasionally converse in whispers, sometimes half-audible even to him. They almost exclusively take the form of playful flirting, as if the only thing to occupy the space in their maybe empty heads is each other.

And the nameless boy from earlier left in a terrible mood some time ago, with an annoyed young man with gray hair who seemed keen on lecturing him.

Blobby, however, stays in the same spot, the cheerful cries of his teammates only emphasizing his dour mood. Some help out with their trainer's quest, while others play with a beach ball. Only one, the sole non-electric and ground type amongst them, dares to brave the ocean, though the flamigo remains in shallow waters.

Lars—undoubtedly due to the others' childish complaints—doesn't like it when he throws sand at them. Otherwise, that would most certainly be his next course of action. That'd shut them up.

You're lucky, he thinks venomously at the electabuzz cheerfully helping you add some finishing touches to your sandcastle. Noticing his glare, she waves at him obliviously.

Somehow, he resists the urge to scream.

Even when you turn around, gaze softened by pity and concern, the only thing Blobby offers is an expression full of displeasure. To him, it doesn't matter if you try to conv—huh?

You turn away, returning to your tragic sandcastle. He can only gape at your back, spluttering indignantly at the sheer nerve. Really, the sheer audacity—don't you know you're supposed to come and comfort him if you acknowledge him at all?

Even the traitor made a token effort to talk to him!

Were you not forwarded the script beforehand? Someone from the team should've coached you at least! He's supposed to rebuff you, not the other way around. It's just the way the world works.

Eventually, after growing tired of twiddling his non-existent thumbs over your nonaction, Blobby waddles over to the oblivious couple whispering to each other. Surely, they'll get the hint, right?

"Oh, there you are," Lars says cheerfully, looking over his (shaking? Is he laughing?) shoulder. He glances briefly at you, his blue eyes widening with a strange emotion, before he looks back at Blobby. "Did you have fun today?"

The pokemon narrows his eyes at him. It doesn't affect his trainer's smile at all—Blobby's beginning to think he finds it funny.

Oh, how he misses the days when Lars was younger. He wouldn't make fun of his first friend like this. Then again, he wouldn't be hanging around another human so happily either.

A dilemma, certainly.

Blobby frowns.

"You're just in time. Look," His trainer points at his own castle. As he scratches his cheek, he has a troubled look on his face. "Don't you think this castle's missing something? She says it's perfect."

You don't retract your statement. Instead, you laugh—surprisingly, it's a pleasant noise. Blobby nods in approval. It's simply common sense that everything Lars makes is perfect.

Still, he can spot some room for improvement.

Blobby wastes no time going through the list. And Lars, as always, picks and chooses what he wants to listen to. What that means is that their squabbling takes up more time than the actual renovations to the castle.

"Well, I certainly learned a lot," you say once they finish, leaning back.

Lars gives you an apologetic look, but you wave off his apologies before he can even start. Smart girl. If you made him feel bad for enjoying himself, Blobby would throw sand at you, consequences be damned.

You don't really seem like the type, all things considered, but one can never be too sure, after all.

"Oh, but..." You trail off worriedly and chew at your bottom lip. There's something funny about your tone, but he can't quite pin it down. "My castle's looking a bit plain too. Do you have any critiques, Professor Blobby?"

He can't but perk up at the title. Professor? They're usually held in high esteem, aren't they? Like that one fellow, the one who Lars occasionally runs into, with the long silver hair and carefully pressed three piece suit. You know him too, though, for some reason, you're usually not very eager to talk about him.

A rather strange thing, considering most people who run into him can only do the opposite.

Oh, but Blobby would make a great professor—one that's not at all like those terrors that Lars would complain about during his university days. Plus, your castle could definitely use a lot of work. His expression is bright as he nods.

"Really?" You clap your hands delightedly. "I can't thank you enough."

Blobby pulls himself up to his full height at your words, feeling pleased. His earlier bad mood seems to have vanished entirely, leaving not even a white fluffy cloud in sight—only clear skies. He waddles over to your side, vaguely aware of Lars' muffled laughter, and begins the first of his lessons.

As a testament to his teaching skills, you come back again the next morning too.

Lars' notes on the memory: Blobby's always taken a bit of time to warm up to people—but he seemed to really like you from the start. I thought it'd be fine for us to do this, all things considered. Hmm, if he's going to be like this every time I make a sandcastle for someone else, should I start preparing him for the next one? [sound of you hitting his arm]

Extras:

— Blobby hated being called "Sandygast" because he felt it was step down in terms of intimacy, implying he wasn't very important to Lars. By the time he woke up to smell the roses, the name "Blobby" stuck, as there were simply no alternatives that he'd accept.

— He loves lording the blue pikachu shovel over Lars' other pokemon as a sign of his "special" bond, what with him being Lars' first pokemon and all. They have since grown used to it and mostly ignore him.

— His current dream castle is the Emperor's in In Passing. After all, it's a grandiose beauty and owned by a man who looks like his favorite person in the world. However, he believes Lars does not know this and intends to keep it that way.

[purplelupins]

As of now, I am opening commissions.

Commissions status: OPEN

That being said, my rules are as follows:

— i only write female readers (i would write male as well but Its just not something I’m familiar with)

-i will only take on a maximum of 5 at a time, depending on the detail, and length of each commission request.

-if I do not feel that the request is true to the chosen character(ex. Major fluff with John Tyler…it might get fluffy but that man’s manipulative and a creep I love) then I have the choice to refuse or offer changes to the commission to better suit the character

-I can refuse any commission for whatever reason, and I will expect that the refusal will not be met with hostility and harassment.

Pricing is as follows:

$5 for 500 words

$10 for 1000 words

$20 for 2000 words

And so on…

***payment will be made through the ‘tip me’ feature here on Tumblr, and must be made when you receive the initial outline of the full fic***

The current characters I will currently write for are:

-Ray (Raymond and Ray)

-Albert Shaw (The Black Phone)

-Ernst Toller (The First Reformed)

- Lars Nystrom (Stockholm)

-Goodnight Robicheux (The Magnificent 7)

- Father Paul Hill (Midnight Mass)

-Noah Bearinger (Paper Year)

-Miles (You Cant Say No)

-Gary (Unicorn Store)

-John Tyler (Tell Me Your Secrets)

-Norman Nordstrom(Don’t breathe)

- Lalo Salamanca (Better Call Saul)

-Rorschach/Walter Kovacs (Watchmen)

What I will write:

-Fluff

-Hurt/comfort

-Smut (kinks I will write for are bondage, cnc, non-con, dom/sub, stalking, breeding, light daddy, somnophilia, sadism, praise, humiliation, nipple play, innocence kink ) ***if you have a kink not listed, ask anyway because I might have forgotten some***

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.

[sundaynie]

my personal headcanon for lovebrush chronicles’ lars rorschach: 🦀🔬🐠🥼🐬🧪⚗️🪸

so we know that lars is the ceo of feinz group but i don’t think he actually studied business at st. shelter academia. instead, i think he would have taken the marine biology course bc of his love for the ocean (and also nonexistent mermaids lol). he’s canonically a ‘rich environmentalist’ as mc puts it so it would make sense that he knows about sea pollution and coral reef degradation since he studied geological oceanography and marine organisms. &&& lars would definitely be a science guy imo, he’s more than smart enough!! like you can’t be the ceo of a multi-million enterprise and not be mentally astute, right?? a real nerd who reads up on news regarding maritime developments and geek out about random facts about the ocean.

MARINE BIOLOGY STUDENT!LARS RORSCHACH

(and now i really wanna write a multi-chapter fic au where lars is a student studying marine biology at st. shelter 🧑🏼‍🎓📚🔬)

[lovebrushed]

man ive been so inactive here. i need to post a fic i swear

what do u guys want my lovebrush pookies