Latest Posts by shinyvoidcloud - Page 4

Touchstarved Backgrounds [For Reference]

— all assets belong to Red Spring Studio

— MC's Room [Morning - Noon* - Night - Fogfall - ??? - ??? ]

it's like 4am where I am, so don't mind this long stream of thoughts and questions I had whilst replaying the demo (my 15 hour playtime is pathetic, I needed more)

I had a sudden thought about Kuras and his dislike-slash-animosity towards the Senobium.

It's mostly to do with the lore snippet of him being a divine teacher and the detailed bio mentioning him being compelled by guilt. Does he regret giving that much knowledge to man, particularly the ones who now study in the Senobium?

It's not out of concern, dare I say, him being empathetic, but rather... does he see a few of the things he shared as stains in his memory? A misstep. An unwise choice that he thought could be another chance for him to prove, to redeem himself, and atone for his sins. Kuras sharing that could have been the key.

...but it wasn't. It was just another tragedy in the long run.

In the end, it only fed into humans and their natural curiosity. It's something Kuras should have known, he thinks. How much more curious can mages and alchemist be? He should have seen this coming. Especially considering how some would do anything in pursuit of knowledge.

That also ties into Mhin, in many ways. Kuras worries for them, that's obvious. They aren’t too far gone, since in Kuras’ eyes, they haven’t gone into or have even been given the chance to enter the Senobium. But their desperation to get in may have hurt them. And they wound up hurt, badly. To the point Kuras saved their life back then— that being said, hindsight is 20/20 and he understands human nature and he knows Mhin will not stop at anything, because they merely think the Senobium has the answers they need.

Does Kuras blame himself for that in some roundabout way? For feeding the curiosity of those who asked, but was none the wiser to notice those who go beyond and seek what should have been kept in the shrouded in the dark?

Also did you guys know this piece of trivia? lmao

GIVE THAT WISE MAN HIS SKIRT DAMN

media literacy would automatically go up 100% if people knew how to consume stories without self-inserting themselves into the characters' shoes. "if i were him..." you're NOT. you may relate to his story, his past, his traits, his quirks, his identity but the moment you start treating the story accepting what you feel/think as what the character feels/thinks, you're misunderstanding the story.

Idk how to feel ab these but here u go anyway 😁✌️

Thinking about Ais perched up against one of the wooden planks atop the columns of the Seaspring. Thinking how the salty breeze tousled his hair as he gazed out at the vast expanse of the wastelands beyond the temple, a cigarette's smoke curled up lazily from between his fingers, ashes falling gently to the sparkling crimson water below. Thinking about him taking a deep drag from his cigarette, letting his eyes flatter close as he exhales slowly into the crisp night air, the nicotine tingling his senses and the smoke filling his lungs, momentarily choking out Ocuedus' thunderous screaming in his head.

Thinking about Kuras in his clinic, studying patient applications in the dim candlelight, brow furrowed in concentration. Thinking about how the long shadows of his past constantly danced across the walls, mocking him as he meticulously reviewed each case, guilt and regret running their hands through his dark hair, whispering reminders of his past mistakes. Thinking about him momentarily freezing in fear of his conscience rearing its ugly head, pulling and pushing him closer and closer to the edge of his sanity. Thinking about him finally shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath, taking off his glasses briefly to relieve the strain of hours spent poring over medical records, leaning back against his chair, and letting fatigue overrun him, finally allowing himself a moment of respite.

Thinking about Vere lurking in an unfamiliar house, sitting alone on the balcony and staring out into the night. Thinking about the wind whispering through the trees and blowing his hair into his face, and him shoving it out of the way with a huff. Thinking about him sighning and leaning back against the rail, reaching up toying with the chain around his collar, running his fingers over its cold links. Thinking about how all was quiet at this hour, and he could feel the solitude beginning to get to him. Thinking about him closing his eyes, letting out a long breath and trying to push away the sudden hyperawareness that had settled over him, having to center himself and slow his heart rate that had begun to quicken, forcing his mind to focus on the task at hand, not allowing himself to seek any form of comfort in the moment; when the world seemed to slow down and allowed him to appreciate its beauty. Thinking about how he knew he couldn't stay there forever, after all.

Thinking about Leander sitting alone at the bar, Bloodhounds around him talking and laughing, making him feel more isolated than ever. Thinking about him taking a sip of his drink trying to drown out the sound of their jovial conversations, the bitter taste in his mouth only serving to mirror the ache in his heart. Thinking about him being unable to shake the feeling that he didn't belong—like an outsider in his own pack. Thinking about him staring into the bottom of his glass, wondering if he would ever truly feel like he belonged anywhere. Thinking about him running a hand through his hair, the other gripping the glass tighter, as he looks up and scans the room, hoping to find a distraction from his own thoughts. Thinking about how, even if he manages to find someone to spend the night with, it never fills the void he feels inside, and he always wakes up alone in the morning.

Thinking about Mhin stumbling from exhaustion after killing another Soulless, its blood spattered across their face and staining their once white shirt. Thinking about them collapsing to the ground, pain radiating through their body and ragged breaths escaping their lips, echoing through the clearing. Thinking about their silver dagger clutched tightly in their hand, the moonlight glinting off the blade, dripping with the blood of the enemy. Thinking about them fighting to keep their eyes from fluttering closed as darkness crept in at the edges of their vision. Thinking about them using their final burst of energy to force themselves to sit upright against a nearby wall before their mind can finally succumb to the overwhelming fatigue. Thinking about them humming softly to themselves—something akin to a lullaby, a calming and comforting melody in the dead of night, hauntingly beautiful and wafting through the darkness until the morning birds respond with their own song.

Thinking about how lonely they all are…

what are your top 3 Ais traits

omg idk even know where to start -

There are so many things that I genuinely enjoy about his character it’s hard to narrow it down to just three traits but these are the ones that strongly resonate with me personally about him!

(in no particular order)

i. protective

I love how protective he is. Even from your first meeting with him, he seems concerned for your safety, by making sure you have a literal guide(Princess ilysm <3) take you back to the city so you’re not in danger + he escorts back to the Wet Wick himself after annihilating that roughneck that tried to hurt you.

Also I just love how he nearly killed that guy that tired to hurt us and in such a brutal way too. He really does wear a bleeding heart on his sleeve and wants to protect the people he sees as vulnerable and that trait makes me ❤️ him even more that I already do.

Hence why I see him getting overly attached to us because he sees us as someone without protection in a strange, treacherous city and wants to be the one to fill that role!

ii. whimsical lil’ fella

Ais is actually hilarious. I had such a fun time bantering with him cuz he has this deadpan type of humor that charmingly disarms you while he is also simultaneously sincere with you.

I replayed his mini-route so many times just kicking my feet and giggling cuz he’s so much fun to talk to and it makes me feel nice - like he’ll tease you but in a way where he wants to laugh WITH you, not at you.

Like his whole sparrow and dove nicknames for MC and Mhin respectively are lowkey funny cuz they’re so random and he just gives them to you and doesn’t explain why and so you now you have this confusing bird themed moniker that Ais gave you just because he could + his “I didn’t know sparrows could bite” comment is SO silly and nonsensical and he just doesn’t care lol

iii. sensitive

I also love Ais’s secret sensitivity. He hides behind a nonchalant, intimidating demeanor but he’s a genuine softie under his scary exterior. His fatal flaw is his poor control on his emotions, after all.

He knows he’s terrifying to most people, so the fact he appears self-conscious about how he comes off to you touches my heart. He literally keeps count of how many “bad impressions” he makes on you so he doesn’t scare you off + his “I was lonely” comment said so simply and honestly, shows how much he desires companionship despite this perception of him being this violent tough guy most people(that isn’t the main cast) runs away from

And this is maybe me overthinking but when he catches you staring at him and asks if you like what you see or if he needs more work, this could interpreted as him being playful, and it is, but with Ais, the things he says can have these double meanings. So what if he was asking you that because he felt self-conscious and genuinely wondered if you didn’t like how he looked and was hiding it behind a joke?

HE HAUNTS ME.

ohhhh ais knowing so many languages is my kink,,, i love a man who understands verb conjugation in french AND russian

tbh i think w ais as a boyfriend i (as a filthy monolingual who dabbles) would be more motivated to learn other languages solely bc he would definitely talk in other languages all the time? to fuck w you? probably dirty talk you in a dead language??

and god forbid the man learn any kind of sign language. he will tell you all of his thoughts from 20 feet away and nobody will know.

[at a party]

ais, signing: (can we go home?)

you: no not yet

ais: (these people suck. i wanna go home and fuck you.)

you: you cannot say that in public!!!

ais, zipping his lips: (i didn't say anything.)

TELL ME WHY

I'VE PLAYED THIS DEMO OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN

BUT NEVER HAD I EVER PICKED THE "HESITATE" OPTION FOR LEANDER

I'M A DUMB BITCH HOLY SHIT

BUT I CAME INTO A NEWFOUND REALISATION:

THE MC'S CURSE PROTECTS THEM, IN SOME WAY

(unless I'm the last person in the fandom to notice that, good job me)

If you pick the "Touch him" option, he only says "I told you there's nothing to worry about"

BUT HERE, he comments "That's one hell of a curse :D" meaning he definately feels it and it possibly affects him

Yes, the MC surely has ptsd of some sort and could assume Leander's hand was going for their neck like mrChocky but i highly doubt he was initially going for their shoulder

I believe the MC's curse doesn't affect whoever they touch, but whoever touches them

It's quite a bit of a strech, yes, but still a possibility:

Leander doesn't do the dramatics above if the MC touches him first

MrChocky was the one who touched the MC first and got he affected

And thus I bring in another question: What about Oracle!MC?

"The priests claimed your touch bestowed enlightenment, but a visiting mage revealed your curse for what it is."

It wouldn't be illogical if the priests' words were true; if the MC touches someone, they are "bestowed enlightenment", but if the MC gets touched forcibly/accidentally, the one who touches them goes mad

But that would also mean we'd have the choice of giving Leander more power if we choose to touch him

Also, somehow all the backstory mages seem to have a good understanding of the MC's curse [have seen it/it has been recorded before], or are at least able to recoognise it in order to reveal it to them. Plus, the Alchemist!MC's mage [who was "exiled from the Senobium"] planned on cultivating them as a test subject, meaning not much must be known about said curse.

"It's unlike anything I've ever dealt with," says Leander, a mage who has never stepped foot in the Senobium.

"We can find answers together," Leander promises later on.

Then he stops

He waits for them to touch him

Then he freely unwinds their bandages, allows them to touch his hands, his cheeks, he moves his hands over theirs because they've already accepted him touching them

He could have figured how the MC's curse works, or he could have dark-magic-ed his way into the Senobium files before the MC returned to the Wick again.

Glass and wings Starlight brings Dreams that gleam sharper Yet my nights grow darker ___

Here's a peek of how I painted this. The HD image and full hours long process videos will be DMed on my Patreon on Oct 5

Yes, Idris Elba. I probably should be.

I’m a waking hell and the gods grow tired

Ais lmao *big heart eyes* <3

How I imagined Princess. She looks a bit too normal for a soulless but I think my design is cute, hopefully. I made her be a pitbull because of the common misconception that they’re all horrible violent dogs, when they’re really not. In the game the Soulless were portrayed as ruthless killers, but when the MC met Princess and she’s just a silly little dog, uh yeah !! I lost my train of thought, but I hope that makes sense in why I made her be a pitbull. Also the lines are messy along her spine, those are the finger spine things that the soulless has. There’s also random cuts on her because I feel like she’d have those.

Guys I forgot she has six legs please add an extra pair of legs thank you

Ais doodle/wip~ the initial plan was to do this in watercolor, lets see how it goes...

Happy belated birthday to lovely Mhin~ They’re taking a well deserved break.

Alternate version without shadows under the cut cause I always like it better

#543 - #544 - #545. As Venipede evolves, its carapace becomes a dull cocoon as its insides liquify, and if anything tries to break it, it'll stab them aggressively until dead. It regains its lustrous carapace after evolving and becomes docile, giving rides to smaller pokémon and humans it meets.

Sponsored by @madsk3tch. Design process under read more.

I had a pretty solid idea for scolipede itself: Make it more buggy, reference centipede anatomy, but keep its horse whimsy. I did many study of centipede faces and anatomy to figure out how to place their antennae and ultimate legs (thats what the final pair of legs that look like antennae on the end of centipedes is named!). I wanted to keep some of the horn shapes, and also have the tail look like a false head like it does in many centipedes.

The weird eye shape of these guys is referencing the ocelli of centipedes: forming compound eyes. The spikes are actually referencing a milipede instead of a centipede, Desmoxytes purpurosea, who have big pink spikes. The empty spot is meant to look like a little saddle :) and the difference in color is because i think bright green feels more toxic paired with red than the greyish purple the canon one has.

venipede was easy, adapting the canon simplicity and then just adding some centipede anatomy like the antennae below the carapace.

whirlipede however, was pretty annoying. I didnt know what to do with it! i didnt want to just make a wheel but didnt want for it to just look like a venipede curled up. i decided to go the cocoon route: the carapace is protecting the goo inside. centipede dont go through cocoon phases but shhh. made it dull to keep its unique color from the rest of the line that the canon one has.

Your Touchstarved headcanons are wonderful! You are almost single handedly keeping me sane while I wait for the full game. Truly, you are a blessing to this fandom.

I was wondering if you had any thoughts about what any of the LIs would think of an MC who is a Writer/Artist. Maybe they had to give it up for a while when they left to go to Erridia?

Or...

Since MC is broke, what do the LIs think of them showing affection through gifts, even if they haven't got money? I can imagine they make simple, inexpensive things like paper flowers for Leander or friendship bracelets for Ais.

Anyway I hope you have a great day, keep up the good work and thanks for posting so much good stuff.💐🌼

I’m actually crying you’re so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH?!! AVCKHVCEBFC 😭😭

I took it a step further, I hope you don't mind.

This is 1/2 :)

Disclaimer! They/Them for MC because we love inclusivity!

Kuras

Writer

He’d probably figure it out rather quickly. The way they would meticulously jot down notes, the endless stream of ideas, and their thoughtful insights into various u̶n̶c̶o̶n̶v̶e̶n̶t̶i̶o̶n̶a̶l̶ topics. Or perhaps he had caught glimpses of their constantly ink-stained fingers. Either way, it became another entry in Kuras' catalogue of fascinating things about them. Undeniably intrigued, he couldn't help but wonder if their writing reflected their innermost thoughts and desires—if each word they wrote held a piece of their soul, waiting to be discovered by someone willing to delve into the depths of their imagination—or perhaps if it was simply a creative outlet for emotions they couldn't express otherwise.

Kuras found himself wanting to uncover the layers of complexity that made up the enigmatic individual behind the pages of their notebooks. And he was more than willing to take on that challenge.

Taking into consideration the fact that perhaps the MC wouldn't be able to afford fancy writing tools or notebooks, often writing down messy notes in napkins with worn-out pens and crayons left behind by patrons at the Wick, Kuras would gift them a brand new notebook and a set of pens, hoping that the small gesture would encourage the MC to continue expressing themselves through writing and perhaps even open up to him about the deeper secrets of themselves they had yet to reveal.

Vere

Artist

As a fellow artist himself, Vere knew to recognize talent when he saw it, no matter how subtle or unassuming it may appear at first glance. After all, true artistry is not just about skill but also passion and dedication. He didn't miss the way the MC's eyes lingered a moment longer on the brush strokes of a distant painting in a random Eridian shop with such reverence, as if trying to capture the essence of the art itself, before moving on, or the way their eyes focused on the lightning dancing across the sky and their fingers twitched with an unspoken desire to create. 

Vere could sense the raw artistry bubbling just beneath the surface; he saw in them the same hunger for self-expression and longing for freedom that had driven him to pursue his own artistic endeavours. 

So he carefully crafted a plan. He discreetly left behind pens and paper in the MC's vicinity. He didn't directly hand it to them, opting to let them stumble upon the supplies, hoping that the MC would take notice and feel compelled to pick up the tools on their own accord. Don't ask him why he did so; he doesn't know the answer himself. Perhaps because of an inexplicable curiosity and a desire to see if he could spark something within the MC, to see if he could ignite that same creative flame that burned within him. Or maybe it was simply a gut feeling. Regardless, he watched from a distance as the MC began to tentatively pick up the pens and paper, their eyes alight with newfound inspiration. It brought a g̶e̶n̶u̶i̶n̶e̶ satisfied smile to his face, his tail wagging back and forth in contentment.

Leander

Dance

Leander figured the MC used to be a dancer. It was obvious if one paid close attention; their perfect posture, precision, strength, and flexibility in their body were a dead giveaway. He'd notice the gracefulness in their movements, every step deliberate and full of confidence, and the fluid transitions between postures.

Leander found himself bewitched. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the MC as they'd effortlessly glided around the Wick, their feet barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. It was effortless, seamless, and utterly captivating. He will admit he couldn't help the small smile once he'd noticed the subtle way they would often tap their feet to the rhythm of a song roaring throughout the tavern.

It was a talent that couldn't be hidden, no matter how hard they tried.

His plan was simple: He needed some sort of opening, somewhere to insert himself into the situation without coming across as intrusive (o̶r̶ a̶g̶g̶r̶e̶s̶s̶i̶v̶e̶… o̶r̶ d̶e̶m̶a̶n̶d̶i̶n̶g̶… o̶r̶—). He would simply attempt to start a conversation with them and praise their dance skills, hoping to learn more about that talent of theirs—maybe even ask them for a dance later in the evening—while also finding a way to subtly steer the conversation towards more personal matters.

N̶o̶, i̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶n̶'t̶ n̶e̶r̶v̶e̶s̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ f̶l̶u̶t̶t̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ i̶n̶ h̶i̶s̶ s̶t̶o̶m̶a̶c̶h̶. I̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ p̶r̶o̶b̶a̶b̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ e̶x̶c̶i̶t̶e̶m̶e̶n̶t̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶ u̶n̶k̶n̶o̶w̶n̶ o̶u̶t̶c̶o̶m̶e̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ a̶w̶a̶i̶t̶e̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ a̶n̶d̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶—

Mhin

Sculpture

They noticed something was up because the MC. wouldn’t. stop. staring. at their face. The way their eyes lingered on Mhin's features made them feel self-conscious, as if every flaw and imperfection were being scrutinised under a microscope.

Mhin couldn't decipher the intent behind the intense gaze, but it left them feeling both uncomfortable and strangely flattered. They couldn't help but wonder what it was about their appearance that captivated the MC so intensely. It was as if they'd seen something in them that no one else did—something worth examining closely.

They tried to maintain a neutral expression but ended up shifting uncomfortably in their seat, trying to break the look that seemed to be piercing through their very soul. 

It wasn't until the MC finally spoke up, complimenting Mhin's bone structure and suggesting they would make a great model for a sculpting project, that Mhin made the connection.

The revelation made Mhin feel incredibly flattered and intrigued, as they had never considered themselves to be particularly striking or noteworthy. The idea of being immortalised in stone by someone talented was… intimidating. And somehow humbling.

Ais

Architecture

He is observant, and can easily notice a person who seems particularly interested in a specific thing. He observed them, their body language, facial expressions and the way they looked at things around them, their eyes tracing the fine details from afar—it was almost like they were analysing them.

What made his suspicions clear was...the Seaspring. F̶i̶n̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ d̶a̶m̶n̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ w̶a̶s̶ u̶s̶e̶f̶u̶l̶ a̶t̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ b̶e̶y̶o̶n̶d̶ b̶r̶i̶n̶g̶i̶n̶g̶ d̶e̶s̶p̶a̶i̶r̶

It was the way they looked at the building in particular; their eyes darted around, as if examining every inch, every line and curve of the temple. He’d smirk to himself, eyes following their every move, as if he could read their thoughts.

He’d bring them anything; from papers, inks and rulers to wood and other building materials. He’d let them demolish, remodel, completely renovate the fucking thing—he couldn’t care less, as long as he had somewhere to rest at night. Besides, their smile was worth more to him than any amount of power he could be offered.

I could make another one with Singing/Music, Theatre and Design or Ceramics perhaps….

Uhm drunk mhin headcanons if nobody asked for it..(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Nobody has! Here ya go (˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡

TW: Alcohol (Obvi) Small note: I think it goes without saying, but this ain't romanticising addiction.

🕊 Whatever it is that got them drunk has to be strong.

🕊 Not because they handle alcohol well, no. Mainly because they're used to being hyper-aware of their surroundings and in control of their actions. 

🕊 They are quiet… until they aren’t

🕊 Their normally sharp senses are dulled, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. They look slightly disheveled and dazed; the edges of their vision’s slightly blurry and their head is swimming.

🕊 *stare…*

🕊 Their glare shifts from cold to something slightly flustered and aloof.

🕊 And even pink flushes against their cheeks — it’s borderline adorable gqbuifcsgbfcu

🕊 They are so squishable

🕊 POUTY

🕊 Definitely more relaxed, easygoing and less threatening — perhaps to the point where they are willing to hold an almost normal conversation with Ais

🕊 If offered anything sketchy they’re give the other a deadpan look that morphs into annoyance.

🕊 They’re not that incapacitated, come on.

🕊 Even if they were, it’s highly unlikely to accept anything that’s not out of Kuras’ hand (force of habit strikes in)

🕊 The only difference would be them talking.

🕊 and I mean talking

🕊 no filter

🕊 Alchemical experiments, anatomy, cats, the stars, whatever’s interesting to them. You just have to smile and nod and they can go until the alcohol wears off or until they’re out cold.

🕊 If Vere tries to mock–flirt, they flirt back

🕊 and then they laugh

🕊 not just giggle, actually, truly laugh. With that beautiful, tinkly “jingle of fairy bells” laugh that rings through the silence.

🕊 Vere is left speechless

🕊 Everyone is stunned

🕊 “Alright, that’s enough drinks for you,” Mama hen Kuras has to intervene.

🕊 w h i n e y

🕊 “I’ll just… just one more? Please?”

🕊 I dare you to say no to those eyes

🕊 I dare you

🕊 Stronger people have been brought down by less

🕊 Next day they lay sprawled across the bed, a hell of a hangover pounding in their head.

🕊 “...I’m fine.”

🕊 They’re not

Mhin sketch/wip ✨️✨️

I missed drawing them too much so there we go!

I am rooting for the underdogs again.

Patience is a virtue, dear childern☝🏼

Kuras thought Ais wanted to read the shipment lists with him - turns out that's not what he's looking for. Birthday man wants a birthday kiss!

Guess My Type: Otome Husbando Edition.

Finished the little doodle 🤧

The tea is RED! Guys the tea is red... its normally green.

Doesn't ais have a teapot that he dumps out water (or whatever it is) from the spring

paralysis (mhin)

mhin x reader(f)

aphrodisiac au / short fic (cw: mature, slightly gory)

series: sweet poison (scenario-based collection of character imagines)

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Prologue

You’re an idiot for drinking that. An absolute idiot.

You’re spilled across the floor, head swimming, burning from the inside as though you’d swallowed a star. The velvet rug brushed soft and cloying against your prickling skin as you squirmed, your heart pounding in your ears and beating an insistent rhythm in your groin.

Cooing at you from the table, her cat’s eyes curled in satisfaction, Morgana asked, “Something the matter? You look positively feverish.” She twirled a curly black lock around her finger.

Bitch. 

Paintings of naked people - bathing in springs, dancing around a fire, having an orgy in front of a temple - swirled into one colorful blob as you turned on your side, fisting the rug. You attempted to pull yourself to where you remembered the door but stalled a couple inches in, weak as a newborn kitten and stifling a moan as your body rubbed on the carpet.

“Now, now, where’s the fire? Stay a while.” She rose from her chair and stood over you, her arms crossing under her full chest. “You’re clearly hot under the collar. The thought of you wandering the streets like this concerns me deeply.”

You glared up at her, using every ounce of willpower not to writhe on the floor like a worm on a hook. Your hand felt clumsily around your hip for the dagger. 

“I’ll take that,” she chirped, snatching the weapon from your belt and tossing it behind her. “Can’t have you nicking that lovely skin.” Her heel braced on the other side of you, straddling your back. Her hands tugged the shirt from your waist before dragging warm palms up your back, her nails scratching on the return journey.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan rocketing through your chest, as every nerve in your body vibrated with electric pleasure. Your hips pressed hard into the floor, growing ever desperate for friction even as you struggled to focus.

Morgana sunk her hand into your nape, drawing your hair back from your face. When she leaned down to brush her painted lips against your ear, goosebumps erupted down your neck. “We’ll start with the bandages, shall we?”

______ prologue end _________

“For fucks’ sake,” a voice sighed from the shadows. 

Bone popped as Morgana’s head whipped around toward the noise, then a thunk as something lodged itself in her back, accompanied by the slick, gristly sound of knife cleaving meat. A shriek erupted from her throat. 

She flung herself to the right, hand reaching over her collar. Face pale, sweat beading across her brow, Morgana turned to face the back wall. A dagger lodged in her left shoulder, the fabric around the blade soaking with blood.

A cloaked figure leaned against the window. Though most of their form was cast in darkness, the moonlight caught the edge of silver hair just beneath the hood, swaying with the night’s breeze.

You twisted on the floor, every brush of the luxurious carpet like rubbing and prickling like a cat’s tongue.

“How brazen,” Morgana attempted her usual simpering tone, though her bared teeth somewhat diminished the effect. “Entering through the window, unannounced, uninvited - like a thief.”

“You’ve got nothing I want, Mistress of the Night.” Red pupils glowed in the night. They fixed first on Morgana, then your curled form on the ground. “Seriously? You fell for that?”

Silver hair. Red pupils. A cutting tongue. 

Mhin. 

You closed your eyes. Fuck your life. 

“I spy a familiar face. You skulk around the Senobium gates, yes?” Morgana had crept closer to the wall, where a velvet tassel hung from the drapery. “Begging the mages to let you in like an injured dove.”

Mhin’s eyes narrowed. Then with a flick of their wrist, a silver flash shot through the air. 

Morgana lunged, but the braided rope fell limp into her grasp. She cursed, painted lips finally twisting into an honest snarl. Her gaze then flickered toward the door but returned to Mhin. “It would seem that I do have something you want. What are your intentions here, hunter?”

“Saving a fool from themself.” A dagger danced beneath the moonlight, twisted within Mhin’s nimble fingers. “Whether you get caught in the crossfire is up to you.”

You swallowed around a dry throat. Somehow you doubted Morgana would shrug her shoulders and drop the issue peaceably - especially with a dagger biting into one of said shoulders. Craning your neck, you looked and sure enough liquid flames began to bubble from her hand.

“As they say, in the company of fools…” she sneered, fire twisting and slithering around her skin as magic pooled in her palm. 

“Back off, witch.” Mhin glared coldly. The knife froze, the blade lifted and pointed in her direction. 

Stuck on the floor between them, you fought desperately against the oppressive lethargy in your body. The drug burned through your veins until you felt scorched from the inside out, shaky and delirious with fever. Each attempt to move felt as though you rested on the bottom of the sea, strapped by weights and slowly drowning. Your head felt pressed by cotton on all sides.

You wriggled like a worm toward the table, seeking cover. At least the effects - flushed skin, dazed eyes - could disguise your mortification. You had worked so hard to earn Mhin’s trust. To cross the cavernous distance they placed between themself and others. 

For them to see you in this state… 

“Surely you know there will be consequences to your interference tonight,” said Morgana, her attention focused on the dagger. “Let’s not pretend. This little fool must mean something to you.”

For a moment, the calm malevolence oozing from Mhin’s expression disappeared, replaced by a look of flustered surprise. “Mean something? That wimp?” They scoffed, feet shuffling in agitation. “As if. Who would - for that - “

Mhin’s mouth paused, in the middle of what would undoubtedly be an insult. Their eyes fell on you, sweeping over your shivering body, lingering on the curve of your back as you tried to push yourself onto your elbows. They stopped on your face - and the heat prickling across your skin seemed to thicken even more at the humiliating thought of what you must look like there, writhing like a worm.

To your shock, Mhin blushed. Their body twisted abruptly, face angling away as a hand shot up as though to shield them from the sight of you. “You - the fuck are you looking at like that - “

Light flared in the room, heat exploding into the air. Capitalizing on their distraction, Morgana threw a whip of molten flame across the room, arcing across the distance between them. Mhin dropped below the strike into a crouch before darting forward in a flash of black and silver. 

Morgana jumped back and sliced the whip down once more - this time, not at Mhin but at you. 

Over your shoulder, you watched the whip serpentine through the air, the spiked end twisting toward you like the mouth of a fanged snake. You tried to push yourself over even as your elbows gave out and your arms trembled. Tucking your head, you braced for the pain when a shadow fell over you.

That searing cut of pain never came. Instead, you heard a short grunt and a muffled curse.

Mhin stood between the two of you, shielding your body. Their arm was braced outward, the flaming whip caught and coiled around their leather vambrace. You’d noticed that very first day that, despite their slender frame, Mhin had the strength of a goliath. They held firm against Morgana’s near frantic yanks on the whip, not budging a single inch.

“Guards!” She shouted, abandoning dignity, a flicker of fear in her eyes as Mhin twisted their arm and started pulling her toward them, wrapping the whip around their fist. Unflinching as the fire licked flesh, burning across their skin. “Guards!”

Mhin yanked the whip hard, pulling her forward and off her feet. The dagger swung upward and cut the cord in a shower of ashen sparks, freeing their right fist, which then shot forward with the force of a battering ram into Morgana’s cheek. 

Her body propelled through the air and slammed into the door. Beads and silk curtains ripped from their rods and draped down on top of her. She writhed under the fabric, her movements panicked and clumsy, not unlike a cat trapped beneath a sheet.

“Hey. Pay attention.”

Mhin crouched at your side. One arm wrapped around your waist as the other dragged your arm over their shoulders, heaving you off the ground. You gasped as the world spun in a swirl of melted colors around you, buckling against them as your knees struggled to support your weight. 

“Fuck.” They paused, propping you against their chest, breath puffing into your ear. Shivers raced down your spine. “Can’t even stand? Could you be more of a hindrance right now?”

Shamefaced, you bit your lip and muttered, “Sorry. Thanks for coming.”

Mhin’s body stiffened. They cleared their throat. “...nevermind. Just - grab on tight.”

You stumbled together toward the back of the room. The balcony door remained open to the night, a breeze carrying the noise of the street in from below. When they reached the railing, Mhin glanced over their shoulder and gritted their teeth. “Change of plans.”

“What?” You questioned dazedly, trying to follow their gaze, when Mhin dropped lower and drew you onto their back. Hands curled around your thighs with iron strength and hoisted you up. 

“Incoming. Don’t let go.” 

Don’t let - you choked back a yelp as Mhin stepped lithely onto the railing and jumped. Three yards of dead air sped below you before their boots caught the rooftop with an impact that shook your heart against your rib cage. Hands scrabbling at the front of their shirt, you tucked your face into the thick, navy cloak. 

Mhin darted across the skyline, leaping across a street and onto the bedraggled rooftop of an apartment building nearby. They paused, leaned perilously over the edge, before hiking upward toward the eave of a window. 

“Ah!” You gasped as your body’s tugged roughly off their back and braced on the window sill. “Mhin - “

A finger pressed against your lips. Mhin shot you a warning look before digging into a leather pouch strapped to their belt. They withdrew a small bottle, luminescent blue liquid sloshing inside. “Drink this,” they whispered. 

When you reached for the bottle, Mhin jerked it back and huffed. “Still haven’t learned your lesson?” At your confused look, they grumbled, “not even going to ask what’s inside? How do you know this isn’t poison? Maybe I’m finally getting rid of you, now that an opportunity and a convenient patsy have arrived.” 

You stared back at them, exhausted, feeling as though your brain could be seeping through your ears. “Because it’s you.”

Gray eyes widened in shock before their head jerked to the side, hiding their expression beneath a hasty veil of white hair. But you could see a glimpse of their ear. The pale skin around the top and shell had flushed pink. “That’s… naive. Foolishly so.”

You summoned a wobbly smile and added wryly, “anyway, if you were going to kill me, you would’ve let Morgana finish the job and saved yourself the trouble of coming at all. Why waste the energy?”

“Finally, a sign of intelligence,” they grumbled, before pressing the bottle against your palm and leaving to peer over the side of the roof again.

Hands trembling, you tried to bring the bottle to your mouth without spilling. The tremors seemed to grow worse even as you sagged into the window frame, all the energy and fight leaching from your body. Gods but you felt so hot. 

Footsteps thundered on the cobblestone street. Men shouted orders at each other, their words difficult to parse but easily understood. You were being pursued by Morgana’s private security. 

Hastening, you managed to bring the bottle to chest height, heavily leaning your arm there as the muscles gave out. You had to hurry and drink. You couldn’t slow them down anymore, not after the pathetic scene you’d made that night. Tears of frustration pooled at the corners of your eyes, further blurring your surroundings. 

“They’re sending a group toward the nearby watchtower. We need to get to safer ground.” Mhin returned. Their eyes caught sight of the trembling bottle. Their jaw dropped. “Why haven’t you - “

You gritted your teeth and tried again, managing to get the lip of the potion to tap against your chin. The effort had you closing your eyes, tears spilling down your cheeks. Everything felt like too much. Heat burned out of you, drenching you in sweat. Invisible stones bore down on your limbs. And even as your body burned with lust, your heart ached in fear and regret that Mhin would lose respect for you because of this, that the tentative partnership you’d worked so hard for had been ripped away from one mistake - one stupid blunder - 

A warm hand wrapped around the desperate grip you had on the bottle. Another tugged you into a firm chest - the cold, pleated cotton shirt soothing against your inflamed skin. Their fingers curled under as Mhin brought the potion to your mouth.

Wisps of moonlight hair brushed across your nose and brow. Dove gray eyes looked back - the ever-present caution and threat they had born for so long softening from within the shadows of the cloak. 

You stared up into their face, lost within the fog, all of a sudden feeling strangely content. Three sluggish swallows later, and the bottle emptied. 

Tired to your bones, you sagged against them, cheek pressed to their chest, blinking sleepily. Mhin’s grip on your jaw eased. Their thumb lingered, drifting almost as though to stroke your face. 

“Look at you,” they sighed, holding still for a quiet moment. You focused on breathing, their familiar scent of steel and linen filling your lungs. Their next words whispered against the top of your head. “Next time… call me before you jump into some harebrained scheme alone.”

___________________________________________________

a/n: I hope that I have correctly codified mhin as a tsundere....

The scrungle >:]

Idk why, but I'd love the idea of Ais having two heartbeats.

Like imagine a scene where mc and he have to hide in an ally again and get all squashed between two buildings. Mc being close enough to hear his heartbeat and then... wait a minute... are there.. two? (Because of ocudeus)

Idk. I sounds cooler in my head

Touchstarved MC who wanted desperately to learn some kind of healing spell to atone for their cursed hands.

They studied, worked hard, searching until they finally figured out a way to use healing spells without any hand-contact by focusing all the energy into their face.

Touchstarved MC who kneels down the their lover's bleeding side, smothering the edges of the lacerations with gentle kisses, pouring so much glowing love into the battered skin that it makes their lover choke a little bit. Their lips stained red, peering up at their speechless LI like a worshiper in mid prayer.

Touchstarved MC who nuzzles away bruises and scrapes, brushing over the pain with their soft eyelashes and purifying wounds with tears so damn-near holy, that won't stop flowing because MC is so scared that it's not enough. They need to fix and purify the small damages that ail the one they love.

Touchstarved MC who places a protective kiss on their lover's forehead every single morning, knowing the recipient can feel the warmth of the spell. They don't have to speak, they both know what it means. Maybe with Leander is started as a funny way to cure his hangovers, until he realized how long the little spell lasted throughout the day.

Touchstaved MC who replaces the pain of wounds with a deeper, throbbing ache that clings to hearts and takes root like an infection of loneliness and desperation.

little monsters