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kaedekolya · 1 month

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clarence and his counterparts: man or monster?

So we were talking about Clarence’s new android SSR (Faint Night Light) in the LBC discord server, and it got me thinking about the monster allusions that seem to be a common thread across Clarence’s main stories. Then we discussed the diary entries from his White Day event, and it occurred to me that this monster imagery also ties into his modern-day counterpart – and with that, this post was born.

In other words: is Clarence a man, a monster, or somewhere in between?

[ SPOILERS: Clarence’s main stories and Chrono Theatre diaries. This meta post is structured as story-specific sections, namely Godheim, Eden, and the modern world, so you can skip over the world(s) you haven't read yet. No Awakening spoilers, don't worry! ]

- ☽ -

Godheim: Archmage Clarence

First, let’s talk about Godheim Clarence. As the Archmage, he bears a heavy responsibility upon his shoulders – to oversee the Magi Tower, to fight the Glacial Butterflies, and, ultimately, to protect the country and its people.

In order to fulfil this duty that he has chosen to undertake, Clarence seals his heart and shuts others out. He denies his emotions, and resents himself for having these emotions, to the point that he disparages MC for “[acting] impetuously” and belittles her capabilities when she shows concern for Amelia’s wellbeing. Archmage Clarence’s impassivity is his shield against the emotions he views as a hindrance.

Yet he was not always this way. Clarence is a casualty of cruel circumstances, a tender soul torn apart by trauma. When MC is confronted with the truth of the mages’ magic, having witnessed a mage die before her very eyes, she notes that “[there] is no pain or compassion on Clarence’s face,” because “[this] is a sight he has seen all too many times before.” Decades of watching his fellow mages succumb to the Glacial Butterflies that nest inside them, and decades of having to end the lives of mutating mages under his purview, have conditioned Clarence into numbing his heart to such pain. How else could he have stayed sane, after a century of bearing witness to suffering wrought by his own hands?

Archmage Clarence’s disposition is initially described by MC as an “[icy] presence,” but this is the facade that he projects as a defence mechanism, not his genuine self. Clarence is so accustomed to the chill of the Glacial Butterflies within him that he has taken on the frost as a personality trait, believing that his frigidity defines him. He does not view himself as a human capable of warmth; instead, he thinks of himself as a mutant, as an icy monster.

Even so, Clarence cannot deny his innate inclination towards kindness. When he notices that Amelia isn’t feeling well, he tells her to sit in the carriage. When Amelia’s temperature drops, he casts a spell to warm the shivering child up, even as he grumbles that he’s wasting his time and magic. When Amelia’s death is imminent, he tries to send her off in the gentlest way possible, then grants her final wish by conjuring a connection to the water mirror. Clarence may insist that he does not care, but his actions reflect his compassion.

It is this very kindness that steers him towards a path of selfless sacrifice, for the sake of his country and its people. The life of a mage may have been forced upon him, by the man that gave a gravely injured child no other option but the potion that would transform him, yet Clarence learns to harness his power for good. He spends his youth eliminating Glacial Butterflies and protecting the village of the snow plains, and despite the harsh conditions of the path he now treads, he does not hold a grudge against the family that sold him off and thrived in the resulting profit. Instead, he returns to check on them from afar, and when an onslaught of Glacial Butterflies attack, he protects them with every last bit of energy within him.

Still, his family’s betrayal left an indelible mark on his psyche. Back when he’d been given the potion, he’d resolved to succumb to his injuries rather than drink it. Despite his instinctive desire to live, MC notes that his “will to live [had been] virtually non-existent,” because there is “[no] despair greater than being betrayed by your own family.” The young Clarence had not seen a reason to live, when his family had forsaken him. It is only when MC saves him, urging him to live on, that he resolves to survive and repay this debt. Each time MC encounters him in her voyage through time, he is on the verge of death, and each time, his dwindling will to live stems from his despair over those he could not save. What ultimately keeps him alive is the vow he swore to his saviour.

This characterisation is one that carries through his immortal lifespan. Clarence does not live for himself; he lives for others. Whether that means risking his life to defend a village, or sacrificing himself in a ritual to save the country’s inhabitants, the underlying premise is the same – Clarence lives for the person who saved him, and for the promise he made to them. He allows others to form negative opinions of him based on the assumptions they’ve made, in order to keep the secret of the ritual and the Glacial Butterflies from them, because their scorn towards him matters less than their safety. He closes himself off from others, never permitting them to reach out to him, because he cannot allow companionship and compassion to distract him from his purpose. He “[cannot] afford to be sentimental,” because he cannot have anyone or anything clouding his judgement. Better to be the enemy of the state that saves it, than the friend of the state that cannot do anything as it crumbles.

It is ironic, then, that Clarence’s devotion to his promise leads him from striving to live and fulfil it, to voluntarily dying for that same promise. His life, his existence itself, is secondary to the promise he has made. He will live to protect the world for his saviour, but if the only way to protect it is to die, then die he shall. Perhaps he views it as a penance of sorts, an atonement for the sins he’s committed. Perhaps he believes the new world would be better off without a monster like him.

For all his calculative callousness and stoic solitude, Clarence is deeply self-aware. Not only is he conscious of the suffering he inflicts and the ramifications of his actions, but he also ruminates upon his sins until they turn to guilt in his gut and self-loathing in the deepest recesses of his soul. He does not turn a blind eye to the pain he witnesses; instead, he looks it straight in the eye, internalises it, and forces himself to feel nothing at all.

Clarence may appear to have no qualms about exploiting people and reducing them to cogs in a plan greater than its constituent parts, but his interactions with Amelia prove otherwise. Right before he sends her off on what is meant to be a suicide mission, his carefully-crafted defenses slip, and he asks whether she hates him. Clarence believes that he has failed to live up to the Archmage’s title, that he has fallen short of being a “guiding force for all the mages” and a “protector.” He condemns himself for his callous strategies and merciless manipulation, since he has been treating people like chess pieces and “using them as [he sees] fit.” He disparages himself for “[standing] by on the sidelines, safe and sound.” He believes others hate him because he’s given them all the reasons to, because he deserves to be hated, because he, too, hates himself. All this while, he fails to recognise that he has taken on the greatest sacrifice of all – the burden of leadership, of decision-making, of being responsible for all the blood on his hands.

This downplaying of his own suffering, alongside his disregard of his own well-being, is what drives Clarence to self-sacrifice time and time again. When a theory about the Glacial Butterflies begins to take shape in his mind, he does not test it out on one of his mages, because he does not view them as expendable despite what he claims. Instead, he uses himself for his experiment, slicing his chest open and bearing the agonising pain in order to ascertain the truth of the magic within him.

On the verge of being overcome by the Glacial Butterflies, despite having prepared for this eventuality by shackling his limbs, he makes one last selfless request. “My Lord, you must kill me before I turn,” he entreats, willing to relinquish his own life for the safety of others. Even when Philip protects him from the Glacial Butterflies, refusing to kill him, Clarence believes that there is no place for him in the future that his Lord envisions.

Decades later, he still echoes this same sentiment. “There is no future without sacrifice,” he tells Lars, and he does not see himself as part of that future, does not see himself as deserving of that future. Archmage Clarence thinks of himself as a monster, not a man, and a monster is better off dead than alive.

It is a revelation, to him, that Amelia does not hate him. MC does not hate him. Lars, Alkaid, the mages that carry on the legacy of the Magi Tower, none of them hate him. They do not view him as a monster; they view him as a martyr, a protector, a saviour. Someone who did his best, and gave his all. Archmage Clarence leaves behind a legacy through his sacrifice, spurred by the human heart he still harbours deep within.

- ☽ -

Eden: Falcon Clarence

Next, we have the Falcon Clarence of Eden. The lone ranger of the desert, the mercenary that eliminates Sandswimmers with impeccable precision and works with no one else.

“A bait that only knows how to cry is a burden,” his mentor tells him, and Clarence internalises that into his cognitive framework and guiding compass. It is “the first lesson Liore taught [him];” that he must prove his worth in order to live. His scent lures the Sandswimmers to him, and so he must make himself useful by seeking out danger.

Valued only for his utility as bait, Clarence learns that his worth is determined by his fighting skills. With no other way to survive, he becomes a NEOS by fusing Sandswimmer gems into his body. Clarence pays the price of this acquired power through the gradual erosion of his memories, but that is far from the only thing he has lost. His decision to accept the integration of these foreign, beastly objects into his body has changed him irrevocably. He thinks of himself not as a human, but as a mutant being only one step away from becoming a monstrous Lost. Still, he endeavours to “remember [his] humanity,” because he refuses to become a “mere weapon [that knows] nothing but destruction.” Falcon Clarence understands that he is, by definition, a monster, but he refuses to relinquish the last shreds of his humanity.

In his first encounter with MC, he is rational and pragmatic as always, scrutinising her motives and seeing no reason to work together. Years of solitude, with no one else to depend on, have honed Clarence’s reflexes into an “instinct for self-defence.” Yet his reaction to MC’s request reveals that his solitude has been shaped by circumstance, not entirely by choice. When MC explains her reason for seeking out Eden, even though it does not sound particularly convincing, Clarence accepts it as sufficient and agrees to lead the way. Despite the potential risk of allowing a stranger close, he offers MC a ride on his motorcycle. Subsequently, he continues to help her out, defending the children’s shelter and giving her the gems he’d collected, even as he refuses to follow her any further.

Falcon Clarence claims that he works alone, but everything he does is for the sake of protecting others. He fights in the desert to protect the shelters from Sandswimmers, and he fights in Eden to protect Lin and the other NEOS from the Lost. He brings MC to the NEOS Association, so that she can rest for a night and learn essential skills from Lin. He knows that the night is dangerous, so despite his own preference for working alone, he ensures that MC has a community of protection around her.

Even as he dismisses everything and everyone else as burdens, his actions speak otherwise. Despite having met MC for only a single day, he offers his assistance to her time and time again, from rides on his motorcycle to filling water bottles with her. He could easily leave her to fend for herself, but he chooses not to leave her behind even when that would be the easier way out.

Perhaps the reason Clarence refuses to work with other people is that he’s afraid. Afraid of dragging them down, afraid of becoming their burden. He fears that history will repeat itself. He cannot bear to lose someone he cares for again, so he refrains from caring about anyone at all. Each time Clarence chastises others for being a hindrance, he is reproaching his past self for his inadequacy. Each time he risks his life to protect others, he is atoning for his failure to save his mentor.

MC says that she understands how Clarence feels, because “acting alone means nobody will be hurt because of [him].” In a way, acting alone also protects himself from being hurt. It is a defence mechanism born from his past, when he had to “learn to accept [his] losses” from a young age. He couldn’t afford to grieve Liore for long, not with the constant threat of the Sandswimmers, and so he could do nothing else but “live on with what memories [he] had left.” He’d forced himself to harden his heart to his emotions, but he could not suppress them entirely.

Clarence blames his moment of weakness, of emotional folly, for causing Liore’s death. It was her humanity, even in her final moments as a Lost, that held her back from killing him and caused her to die. He regrets his choice to this day, and perhaps it is this survivor’s guilt that pushes him to fight harder until he reaches the brink.

It is this same guilt, alongside his resolve to not lose anyone else he cares for, that drives him towards self-sacrifice. When he realises that MC needs a soul stone – his soul stone – to open the door within Central Control, he unflinchingly raises his gun to his head, as if it were the natural and logical decision to make. He is ready to offer his life without a moment’s hesitation, because that is the utility he can offer in this moment, in order to keep MC safe and help her achieve her goal. She has given him a reason to fight, and he will die trying to fulfil it.

Ultimately, it is his encounter with MC – and the companionship which blooms from it – that saves him. Without demanding anything in return, she cries for his pain, fights by his side, and shoulders his burdens with him. Clarence doubts his humanity, even as he holds fast to it, since he is all too cognisant of the monstrous traits within. In turn, MC’s unwavering trust reaffirms the humanity within him, reminding him that he is worthy of living.

Falcon Clarence may not be fully human on a biological level, and he may still succumb to the effects of the monsters within him from time to time, but he has managed to preserve his heart and his humanity. His tale is one of healing, of opening up, and of learning to value himself for who he is and not what he can do.

- ☽ -

Modern World: Clarence

Finally, let’s circle back to modern-day Clarence. At first glance, he’s the calm, collected, and capable Student Council president, who always seems to have affairs in order and circumstances under control.

Then, in his Chrono Theatre diary entries, we learn that he had a psychiatrist observing him from a young age, due to his gifted aptitude and exceptional intelligence beyond that of his peers. This revelation sparked a discussion in the LBC discord server, which spurred this message of mine that then became the basis for this meta post:

Clarence is well-versed in decorum, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it comes naturally to him. It’s likely that he learned social etiquette by picking it up from observing how other people behave, so he knows the appropriate responses to give and the socially-acceptable ways to carry himself. However, because this social understanding is not an innate trait but a learned one, there are often times when he doesn’t recognise the need for social niceties, and instead his instinctual response – founded on his internal logic – comes through.

One example of this can be found as early as his second interaction with MC, after she paints an artwork of him:

The polite thing to do would be to express interest in or appreciation of the finished product, regardless of one’s actual feelings towards it. However, Clarence “doesn’t show the slightest interest” in MC’s painting. Does this mean that he doesn’t care for it, and doesn’t see the need to put on a pretence? Quite the contrary. Instead, it’s because he thinks he doesn’t have anything useful to offer in response, and thus he stays silent.

Here, we see a disconnect between how Clarence understands the world, and how other people tend to view it. While most people would appreciate receiving praise or validation, Clarence doesn’t particularly see the need to receive either, and thus doesn’t immediately think of giving them to others. Rather, he takes a more pragmatic approach, focusing on utility; a piece of work deserves feedback for the effort poured into it. However, as a law major, he does not have sufficient knowledge or expertise regarding art. As such, he believes that his feedback would not be useful, and thus it is better not to say anything at all.

This ties into how Clarence views himself as his roles, and the functions he can serve. He understands that he has worth, but he evaluates this worth through his services as the Student Council president, or his contributions as a law intern. When he assists others, he doesn’t think of it as going out of his way to help them; instead, he views it as part of his rightful duty.

As a result, Clarence doesn’t view himself as simply “Clarence.” Rather, he thinks of himself as Clarence, the Student Council president; Clarence, an upperclassman; Clarence, a friend. If he can fulfil someone’s needs through a role that he holds, he will do it, even at the expense of himself.

We see this most prominently in Clarence’s “Break Time” R card story:

When the senior who’s supposed to interpret for an academic speaker falls ill and fails to attend, Clarence steps up to fill their shoes last-minute. William notes that Clarence can be counted on to show up whenever and wherever he’s needed, and MC agrees that he’s “the only one who’s up to the task.”

However, what most people don’t recognise are the sheer lengths Clarence will go to in order to fulfil his duties. On top of his regular responsibilities, filling in for the interpreter caused Clarence to “[burn] the midnight oil” preparing for the speech, and taking care of the sick speaker meant that Clarence could not sleep for two days. He doesn’t recognise that he’s constantly going above and beyond, because to him it’s a given, but he is in fact pushing himself past his limits, and past the line that most people would draw.

It’s interesting to examine MC’s thoughts here, because she interprets Clarence’s willingness to take a nap as a rational understanding that he needs to rest in order to keep functioning. However, this only happens after MC coaxes him into taking a break. If she hadn’t intervened, Clarence would have continued pushing himself until he completed his task – he was already at “the brink of collapse,” and he “only agreed to sleep after [MC] practically begged him to.” Clarence prioritises his responsibilities to the point that he does not recognise his own needs, and thus neglects to take care of himself.

Although modern Clarence doesn’t think of himself as different, or as anything less than a person, it’s evident that he views himself as the roles he fulfils rather than simply as who he is. In turn, this mindset is reflected in his behaviour, which then shapes other people’s perceptions of him. This is how Clarence becomes characterised as the aloof and intimidating Student Council president in the students’ eyes, even though he cares so deeply and helps out so much; most people are unable to look deeper and see Clarence as the person that he is, because he perceives and presents himself through the lens of his roles.

As such, other people often view Clarence as different from themselves – as if he’s operating on a different wavelength, or existing on a separate plane entirely. Modern Clarence’s genius sets him apart from his peers, but more than that, his perspective of himself winds up alienating himself from other people. Clarence views himself as like others, but others view him as unlike them. He blends in well enough, but he doesn’t quite fit in; he has a place in society, but he doesn’t quite belong.

- ☽ -

Clarence, across time and space

Out of all the Clarences thus far, modern Clarence is perhaps the most well-adjusted, and this reflects the importance of having a support system. Godheim Clarence and Eden Clarence were isolated from a young age and survived alone throughout most of their lives, whereas modern Clarence had family and friends around him. He may not have had the most conventional childhood, but he grew up with his older sister Jaclyn and his close friend Luca, and he also had his psychiatrist Ford observing and monitoring his development. Subsequently, after he enters St Shelter Academia, he gains a circle of friends he can rely on, such as William, O’Connor, and, of course, MC.

Expanding upon Clarence’s St Shelter Academia bonds, we see that Clarence has people around him who genuinely like him for who he is, and are willing to support him unconditionally. O’Connor affectionately refers to Clarence with a nickname – “Shi-kun” in the Japanese voiceover, or “Little Si Lan” in the Chinese one – and for all his devious teasing, it’s clear he looks out for his Student Council successor. As for William, he may whine about Clarence’s by-the-book discipline, but his clumsiness and complaints do not preclude him from helping out when needed. For all that Clarence often chastises William, he still relies on him to assist with Student Council matters, and he knows William is someone he can trust.

Compared to these two, MC is a relatively newer connection, but her bond with Clarence runs deep. Right off the bat, she’s able to meet him on his level and banter with him, and he lets down his guard enough to subtly tease her for trying to trick him. As their relationship develops, Clarence grows to trust her, sharing his inner thoughts and admitting his vulnerabilities. MC is a safe haven for him, and she understands him on a level deeper than most. While the other students may fear Clarence for his aloof disposition, or hesitate to approach him due to his detached rationality, MC sees the earnest sincerity woven into his actions and the warmth laced through his words. Others may think of him as an unfeeling robot or a terrifying monster, but MC loves him for the human that he is.

There’s a subtle but interesting juxtaposition here, in which Godheim Clarence and Eden Clarence – both possessing monstrous mutations within them – view themselves as monsters while most others do not, whereas modern Clarence – wholly human – views himself as human while most others do not. All three Clarences are keenly aware of what constitutes them, allowing this biological understanding to shape their perception of themselves, but they do not recognise that their actions paint a different picture to others.

Regardless of the world he inhabits, Clarence constantly straddles the line between man and monster. His selfless nature and dutiful diligence often lead him to self-sacrifice and superhuman feats, creating the illusion of a monster – but beneath this facade lies, always, the heart of a human.

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thank you for reading!♡

if you have any thoughts about this meta post, i'd love to hear them! responses are always welcome, and my ask box is open~

up next: android clarence, and the inevitability of tragedy. where is the line between human and machine? stay tuned for my thoughts on clarence's awakening main story!

#lovebrush chronicles meta #lovebrush chronicles #for all time #lbc #lbc spoilers #clarence clayden #lbc clarence #lovebrush clarence #godheim clarence #eden clarence #modern clarence #sol's meta musings

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xyoonx · 5 months

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Lovebrush Chronicles meme bundle #2

^ I feel like Lars would show aggressive affection idk lmao

Now.... To me being a simp-

Yeah-......

Yeah, that's it.

#lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles memes #lars rorschach #clarence clayden #lbc memes #cael anselm #lovebrush chronicles godheim #godheim clarence #lovebrush chronicles william

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yoonrambles · 4 months

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Divine Devotion | ♡

𝙶𝚘𝚍𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚖 ! 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 [ 🦋 ]

– husband ! Clarence headcanons ~

header creds

The Archmage was a person who appeared reserved and stoic in public, but behind the closed doors, he was merely a devoted lover – loyal to you and you only.

He didn't have much time to spare; his great responsibility as the royal Archmage of Godheim required him to work around the clock. Despite all that, you were always on his mind – did you eat? Did you get proper sleep? You didn't... forget about him, did you? – All sorts of uncertainty would bother his already burdened mind.

Even whilst being apart, he would actively write you letters to remind you to properly take care of yourself. He might even scold you subtly if you forgot to do something– but, worry not, that's simply his way to show his undying love for you. Even if he were to travel far to the North, he'd regularly write about you in a diary, or a scroll – whatever he finds convenient enough to recall.

Emperor Lars would often tease you and the Archmage about his peculiar ability, and how he even got a lady like you. But, after receiving a daunting glare from the Archmage, the Emperor would be compelled to shut his mouth up; nonetheless, he'd still be bold enough to flash you a mischievous smirk. (He was soon scolded by your husband, of course.)

Whenever you visited the Magi Tower, Asmoran never missed a chance to attempt hitting up on you. And, surprisingly enough, Clarence didn't stop him – he simply watched as Asmoran approached you, stood there quietly for a moment as he rethought his decisions and left without even uttering a word. And that left you wondering what exactly had made him retreat so easily – well, maybe being the Archmage's wife had its perks.

As tension between the Silver Knight and the Royalty grew, the Magus began to revolt as well – overall, it was utter chaos. You rarely got time to visit your beloved one; but when you did, it was once or twice a month as you decided to visit the Royal Palace out of the blue. Then, you'd request to have a private chat with the Archmage, and you both were given a spare private quarter. He'd still be on guard at first; avoiding your gaze, hiding a prominent blush that was threatening to appear on his cheeks. You'd chuckle and reassure him that everything would be alright, as long as you two were together.

You'd even gently stroke his hair as he rested his head against your lap, breathing gently as he told you about his day, and the latest reports. You, obviously, didn't understand a thing about these complex matters – but you tried your best to console him, and he was more than happy to listen to your calming voice.

After fate led you two astray, a single day hadn't gone by when he didn't think about you. On the days when you cried yourself to sleep, he always appeared in your dreams, consoling you and doting you – reminding you that he was still with you, and always would be; for all time.

You'd dream of a lovely vision – a dream of you two; in a forest, in the season of autumn. There were no glacial butterflies, no ice, no bone-chilling cold – simply the warm embrace of autumn. You would dream of him, peacefully resting under the shade of a giant maple tree; his back against the giant tree bark, and his long streaks of hair mingling with the grass beneath. You would gladly take a seat beside him, take his warm hand and interlace your fingers with his. And you'd simply sit there, often saying a word or two about your thoughts: what was bothering you and what not – and he'd listen to you, like a loyal lover. He'd often tell you his own thoughts, encouraging you to live on. After all, at the end of your journey, you were bound to return to him, to the stars – under the maple tree.

And, at the end of time, autumn would reckon your beautiful, solitary existences.

#‎ ‎ ‎ ✎‎ ‎ ‎ | yoon's projects ♡ ₊ ⊹#lovebrush chronicles #clarence clayden #clarence #clarence x reader #lovebrush chronicles x reader #godheim clarence #for all time #司岚

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melpherno · 1 month

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Under the Maple Tree

Archmage ! Clarence x reader

Tags: fluff, cuddling; a lot of cuddling, post-Godheim, post-Epilogue.

Word count: 2.1 k !

Ao3 link [🍁]

A/N: this does not end in angst; in fact, it doesn't even have a molecule of angst, trust me. I'm doing the impossible for us delulu Archmage simps because, at this point, "Archmage" and "Angst" have become one lol. Enjoy~

The land of Godheim welcomed autumn again.

This time, instead of walking alone through the maple grooves on the outskirts of Maple Ridge, the little painter was blessed with the company of the Archmage. Hand in hand, they continued towards their unpredicted destination. Usually, Clarence would prefer to make a thoroughly thought-out itinerary before embarking on such a long journey, however, ever since the little painter joined his side – he had allowed her to take him wherever she pleased; a gift to her, after waiting for him for, perhaps, almost an aeon; a pledge to her that he'd always follow her footsteps, and never depart from her ever again.

Throughout the journey, Clarence seemed to be submerged in his never-ending thoughts; forever worrying about his little painter. He still wondered why the little painter had chosen him; out of all of the people she might’ve met travelling across space and time – why him? What did he ever do in his outstretched life that made her love him so ardently, so genuinely, without holding a single grudge against him for all he had done?

The little painter, on the other hand, simply enjoyed the autumn scenery of Godheim. She had rarely seen such beauty in this land, let alone that one time when the Archmage made her witness the variety of seasons here; besides that, this felt special; now that she was truly here – walking through the maple forest, admiring the trees with bright red leaves embellishing them all, and taking in the crunching sound that followed with every step she took that brought an indescribable satisfaction to her ears. The soft afternoon sunlight illuminated the path before them, glinting through the leaves, as they endeavoured forth.

Soon after, the little painter perked up after having caught a glimpse of a river's bank – this could be a perfect time to sit down after trekking nonstop for about three hours. She even wondered how Clarence could even walk without breaking a sweat for this long; he didn't go on walks in the spatiotemporal gap now, did he? The little painter finally turned to look at Clarence, who seemed solemn; a neutral yet detached look on his face, as if he was pondering something.

The little painter finally called out, “Hey, Clarence, I see a river up ahead. Care to take a break?”

Clarence was startled out of his reveries, his eyes widened slightly as his steps came to an abrupt halt upon hearing his saviour's voice, however, his surprise didn't last long as he turned to face her with that same neutral expression once again. “Didn't we just take a break?”

“That was three hours ago!” The little painter argued, her loud voice echoing through the woods, wavering amidst the mildly blowing wind of late autumn. Despite all the time they had passed being separated, the little painter didn't seem to change at all; she still had that fierce spirit and enthusiasm that graced her personality – a stark contrast to the Archmage's usual collected self, almost resembling a stoic sentinel.

Clarence sighed, shaking his head slightly before responding with a strained smile, “Sure. Don't take too long. We need to reach the village before evening.”

Without wasting a moment, the little painter jogged towards the river bank, taking a moment to appreciate the view. It was serene, rather idyllic even, with the gentle blow of wind that made the branches of the maple trees sway, making a few leaves flutter midair as they fell onto the slightly murky water of the river. The little painter felt slightly disappointed, now that she couldn't keep a painting of this scenery without her painting supplies around. However, with the thought of conjuring up painting supplies with magic, she turned to ask for her lover's assistance, only to find him near one of the maple trees – entertaining himself with a flock of birds as they flew down to sit on his shoulders, and one brown bird even rested upon his palm.

These were only a few birds; the little painter recalled the last time they took a stoppage at a quaint village in the northwest. After having a short snack moment upon the little painter’s insistence, Clarence decided to feed the critters some leftover pieces of bread – only to find out that, after a few moments, he was surrounded by the cattle and critters of the entire village. The Archmage, despite his imposing and stoic nature, was favoured by all sorts of animals.

A rather adorable trait, the little painter mused.

She slowly approached the Archmage, trying to eavesdrop on whatever he was mumbling to the little birds. Upon reaching him, she could only make out some of his hushed whispers: “I feel … calm.”

Clarence smiled softly as a bird pecked at his fingers, completely unaware of all the perilous magic his hands could create. He continued in the same gentle tone, “Whenever I'm with her, I feel content; as if I couldn't be happier.” The little painter then noticed his expression become somewhat solemn, his smile dropping ever so slightly. “Though, I'm unsure whether I could ever make myself happy. But, I'm certain, she can.”

The little painter could feel a smile inevitably creeping up her face as she went a few steps closer to the Archmage. “What are you talking about?”

Hearing her voice once again, Clarence visibly flinched, disturbing the birds as they flew away in fear. He turned around, avoided the girl's teasing little stare and replied in a curt tone, “Nothing.”

“Oh, is that so?” The little painter said with a snicker. “I thought I heard you saying something… about me?”

“Well–” Clarence was about to retort, but he stopped to find proper excuses. “...”

The little painter continued to smile even more, now that she had defeated Clarence in this little banter of theirs. She then looked around, trying to find a place to sit down and enjoy the scenery around them. After a few moments, she asked, “Do you want to sit down over there for a moment?”

“I do not wish to be rude, but,” Clarence responded, after regaining his usual indifferent composure, in a flat tone, “that'll only be a waste of time. We need to reach the village before the sun sets.”

“Oh, come on, Clarence. Just five minutes?” The little painter tried her best to persuade the Archmage, even so, she tried to tug at his sleeves – seemed like she still had that childlike innocence she had since the day they departed; thinking about it made the Archmage hesitate with his words slightly.

He thought for words to dissuade the painter with, but, failed miserably as his fondness for her and affinity towards nature beckoned him to give in to the earthly pleasures for once. “Very well.”

The little painter then grabbed his hand, and almost dragged him towards the spot she had chosen and sat down on the grass under one of the maple trees. The Archmage, without finding any other words to object with, made himself sit down beside her. Clarence looked around to notice the view, and as expected, the little painter had chosen the most beautiful perspectives – he should've expected this from an artist like her, who had to find beauty in the rarest places. He noticed how peaceful the forestries on the other side of the river looked, how the sunlight reflected on the streams of water, and how, out of all places – where he felt the most calm at was the places the little painter chose herself.

“You know, Clarence,” the little painter started, shifting closer to the Archmage, her shoulder brushing against his arm, “this moment reminds me of something…”

“Of what, may I ask?” His voice remained soft as he asked, almost like a whisper, only for the little painter to hear.

“Of that dream, you once showed me.” She looked up to face him, noticing how the afternoon light glinted on the monocle resting on his right eye. “An opportunity to experience the different seasons of Godheim.”

He hummed, approving the little painter's comment. “And how do you feel now?”

“Better than ever,” she said, trailing her fingers down his arm to grasp at his hand – oh, what a tease; that simple action made the Archmage look away, a futile attempt to hide the evident blush growing on his face. Thereafter, sensing the Archmage's shyness, the little painter wrapped her other arm around his body to pull him closer; and to that, the little painter felt the man stiffen more than ever. This was, perhaps, for the Archmage, the first time to ever experience her warm embrace. He did hold her within his arms once; in the spatiotemporal gap, before they were destined to depart – but, this time, it felt unique; the embrace now bore a feeling that was unknown to the Archmage – something that he never had experienced before in his long riverbed of life. He welcomed this exceptional feeling that harboured no sense of resentment or melancholy within it. However, he still didn't give into the sensation just yet, and the little painter frowned upon noticing his hesitance.

“Clarence,” the little painter said, “it's all right. You can relax.”

Well, certainly, the Archmage couldn't make himself relax to this newly found feeling, nevertheless, he attempted to lean against the bark of the tree, his hands shivering in the late autumn breeze as he wrapped his arms around the little painter to bring her closer even more. The little painter happily leaned her head against her lover's shoulder, letting out a pleased hum when she closed her eyes. She felt happy; no conflict, no tears falling, no bloodshed – simply the gentle monotony of a peaceful life to accompany the two lovers forward. Perhaps this was the life the little painter traversed through worlds for; and perhaps, to enjoy the simplicity of this moment, the Archmage had to sacrifice himself for. But, they were both content, that at least their sacrifices were not in vain – that fate had finally blessed them with happiness.

Under the maple tree, Clarence held his lover in his arms again, looking down at her resting figure with a gentle smile on his face. He raised a hand and brought it towards the little painter's face, and gently pinched her cheek. The little painter shot open her eyes; of all the possible outcomes from this scenario, she hadn't expected Clarence to pull such a playful and rather childish act on her.

“Clarence,” she said, followed by a soft laugh. “Why'd you do that?”

“There was something on your face,” Clarence replied.

The little painter knew that was a lie. She only smiled, deciding to give him a payback; with a swift move, she grabbed his monocle and brought it to her face, to examine it. However, due to the chain being attached behind Clarence's ear, it only brought him closer to the little painter.

Now, face to face, being mere inches apart from the little painter’s lips, Clarence blushed furiously. The little painter on the other hand, was slightly startled by the result of her mischievous misconduct, but she didn't mind it much – after all, her intentions were to make the Archmage flustered. When Clarence was about to apologise and pull away, uttering some sort of excuse, he was cut off by the little painter pulling him closer; being surprised once again as he felt the little painter's lips being upon his. And then, it felt like the flow of time had stopped, the only thing that ever mattered to him at that moment was her; his beloved saviour – a blessing from the stars. Clarence was no less stiff than a stone then, refusing to move his lips to the rhythm of the little painter’s as she continued to press her lips against the Archmage's chapped ones. The little painter, upon noticing Clarence’s unease, decided to save this man from his misery.

After they broke the kiss, the little painter took the moment to inspect Clarence's reaction: his eyes avoiding hers, cheeks covered with a faint red tint, and breathing heavily – also, she couldn't help noticing how sweet and more humble he seemed compared to his usual stoic self. He smiled faintly once more, sighing before he hid his face within the crook of the little painter's neck, softly nuzzling against her. The little painter, giggling to herself, ran a hand through Clarence's long hair, while the other hand softly rubbed his back – rubbing circles and tracing little hearts upon the fabric of his coat. She then said in a teasing tone, “Clarence, aren't five minutes over yet?”

The little painter felt the Archmage shift a little, letting out an exasperated sigh; seemed like the little painter's plan worked, Clarence was successfully persuaded.

“I hope you wouldn't mind if we were to spend five more minutes like this?” He mumbled against her fabric of clothes.

“Sure,” she responded with a smile. “Perhaps five more minutes won't hurt.”

Therefore, the two lovers remained under the shade of the maple tree, experiencing the warmth of each other’s embraces for what felt like an eternity.

#this took so long to upload due to the layout ahkshd #♡. mel's archive // elegant brushstrokes.#lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles x reader #clarence clayden #lbc x reader #godheim clarence #clarence x reader

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culxiaa-fn · 4 months

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I just finished Clarence's route AND IM SOBBING 😭😭 WTF?! BABE HOW COULD YOU 😭😭😭

Under that Maple tree i hope MC hugs him so tight so he will always remember her warmth.

Under that maple tree when they share each other past stories i hope they held hands so MC warm hand engraved in his mind

Under that maple tree i hope after a long winter and cold Clarence finally feels that warmth that he always longs for

Finally under that maple tree, Clarence found that warm hand that only belongs to her, someone that saves him when he is at his lowest, his saviour, his angel, his spring

#Clarence Clayden #◇ my nonsense #lovebrush chronicles #CAN YOU SEE?! IM FUCKING BAWLING #my god... Lars stories make me sob and atleast i got quite a laugh with his silliness #BUT CLARENCE JUST DECIDED TO RIP MY HEART #that make me think... in Lars Route. if you play lars route well you know what happened #when he um yk what i mean... do you think he is waiting for that warm hand for one last time #godheim Clarence #for all time #lovebrush Chronicles Clarence #lovebrush chronicles x reader #clarence clayden x reader #si lan #For all time si lan

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lost-khione · 5 months

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I found the Disney Princess of Lovebrush Chronicles in Godheim:

Here's the full card art

#clarence is a disney princess #godheim clarence #clarence #lovebrush chronicles #for all time #lbc #fat

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eccentrixazu · 3 months

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sorry guys no new content i was at a convention, have a godheim clarence with a bunny in his lap

#lovebrush chronicles #clarence clayden #godheim

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little-big-boo-and-a-rat · 2 months

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May I present you

#for all time #lovebrush chronicles #otome #godheim #clarence #Archmage Clarence #i have no idea if someone did this before #game #lbc meme

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pillbugriot · 2 months

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Spoilers below for Clarence's bad end in Eden

#lovebrush chronicles #for all time #lovebrush clarence #clarence clayden #lbc memes #shitpost #not art #i cope with the pain godheim!clarence brought me by bullying him as much as possible

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romance-rambles · 18 days

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HOW THE BOYS PLAY LUDO WITH EACH OTHER AND YOU

rules of the game: the goal is to have your four tokens inside the your columns. your opponents can impede your progress by stepping onto the same square as you and sending you back to the homebase ("blocking"). in some variations, two dices may be used, and rules can differ even between related families—for example, getting another turn after blocking a token or after getting your own to homebase. it can accomodate only four solo players.

— pairing: [mostly platonic] modern-day love interests & little painter/you

— word count: 977

— tags: none

— author's note: it brings me great joy that ludo is an actual activity in the itinerary. for me, ludo has always been what monopoly is to other people—breaker of bonds, with at least one person liable to flip over the board. i have no idea if someone else has done this before, but enjoy!

return to lbc masterlist | series: none

would not harm anyone unless backed into a corner; alkaid

Alkaid is perhaps the most civilized player at the table. Even as the rest of his companions holler for him to block someone's advance, he will always choose the less bloody option, unless it is the only move he can make or if someone's win [not you] is all but guaranteed and everyone else is indisposed of at the moment.

He will always apologize as he offers the loser their token back, and gracefully accepts his own losses with a smile. His preference for teaming up is with you, and his second most common team up is Clarence. He believes yellow is his lucky color, as he often ends up on the board before his peers—though he usually sabotages the wins that are handed to him on a platter.

Most often, he lets Clarence explain his options for a turn and decides his choice based on what is most beneficial for you. This often results in Lars having to physically restrain himself from bashing his head into the table, since Alkaid's playstyle is in direct opposition of his.

knows which tokens are on the chopping block, only makes use of that knowledge if it can earn him another roll; ayn

Ayn is a very competitive player. He has his next moves decided before the dice are handed over to him, and can quickly recalculate his next actions if the roll is suboptimal. Mercy is not a word present in his vocabulary—if he notices an opening, he will make use of it, especially if it's against you, often resulting in almost everyone banding against him. However, he's already against everyone, so it doesn't bother him.

He doesn't like teaming up with people, but he does demand a game of having you on his team on occasion for "fairness". He also often complains about how long you and Alkaid take in terms of deciding how to move due to his own speed—and he's absolutely a sore loser, particularly if first place went to Lars.

His preferred color is red, and he often has some of the best luck—and often the worst, as he remains the only person to successfully get three rolls of double sixes more than once, which constitutes the end of his turn without any movement on his part.

self-sufficient and absolutely ruthless, often goes easy on you; cael

Cael can be accurately described as a mix of Alkaid and Ayn. He enjoys blocking tokens whenever he can, but unlike Ayn, he enjoys taunting his opponents and he refuses to touch your team whenever possible. Often times, like Alkaid, he has to be consoled if he ends up going against you—though his intentions are decidedly less pure.

His preference is to be paired with you whenever possible, but he often ends up paired with Lars—which you find morbidly funny. Like Godheim, they often clash due to their opposing stances. If the token in their way belongs to you, Ayn often adds them to his hitlist because they take up quite a bit of time in bickering over their next move.

His preferred color is blue. He is usually never the first person to come onto the board, but he is also never the last part—which is a distinction that usually falls on you. However, he often has bouts of bad luck where he ends up with suboptimal rolls at the start and end of the game.

often takes the time to help other players [mostly you and Alkaid], just happy to hang out with friends; clarence

Clarence is an absolute sweetheart and actually a decent player. He could absolutely take the troublesome trio [Ayn, Cael, Lars] on, and does so whenever you and Alkaid hang back. But he often encourages you and Alkaid to block his tokens and often hands out the best moves without requiring anything in return—and Lars often teases him for it.

He's most often left with the color green, as all the other choices are always taken. Often, he pairs up with you or Alkaid, which Ayn encourages as it greatly speeds up the game. Among the group, he also has the distinction of being the only one who gets sad if he doesn't end up in a team, so Lars will sometimes give up his favorite spot to hang out with him.

The first time everyone played together, there were a few minor arguments about the ruleset since everyone grew up playing it differently. As he was the one who led them all to create a rulebook that still gets periodically updated, he's often the referee during any minor disputes—often caused by Ayn or Cael, who are quick to roll their dice on their turn, even if someone else has just barely finished their move. He values Lars' counsel during these moments.

self-sufficient, but enjoys pointing out the many ways in which someone can block a token; lars

Lars is chaos incarnate. If the table is yelling and screaming, he's having the time of his life. He's aware of the tokens on the board at all times and often uses that information to inform others of an optimal move—which often puts him on Ayn's hitlist since he ends up ruining Ayn's plans. Like Ayn, he always has his next moves prepared ahead of time and he often bargains when he is either asked to show mercy or offers it himself [usually to you, but sometimes, he takes pity on Alkaid and Clarence too].

He has the most variable luck among everyone. Sometimes, his run will be smooth sailing, and other times, he will have to carefully claw his way to victory with ones and twos. Despite that, he's often competing with Ayn and Cael for first, while everyone else prepares themselves for a poor showing. Very often, he's the one to suggest continuing the game until everyone has their own placements as he just enjoys the chaos.

His preferred color is also blue, hence why he often ends up paired with Cael. He rarely pairs up with you, mostly because he's the only person on the table capable of inciting a true competitive response from you—as opposed to a desire to merely keep up, like with Ayn or Cael.

#headcanons by aya #lovebrush chronicles #for all time #alkaid mcgrath #lovebrush alkaid #ayn alwyn #lovebrush ayn #cael anselm #lovebrush cael #clarence clayden #lovebrush clarence #lars rorschach #lovebrush lars #lovebrush chronicles headcanons #rambles from here on -> i vaguely remember getting ludo on my itinerary and little painter mentioning that lars is competitive #but i feel like he just has that chaotic vibe y'know?#also i feel like i accidentally mimicked godheim's dynamics beyond just lars and cael and idk why it cracks me up #i am curious to see what the other responses are though because lars is the only LI who has said anything on ludo #though i've only gotten this twice but it's def my favorite activity LOL

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orivode · 1 month

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Modern world Clarence is a ride-and-die for the girl he met less than a month ago, and if that is not beautiful I don't know what is

#lovebrush chronicles #clarence clayden #halfway through the godheim route so I am already crying actually #lovebrush chronicles spoilers #technically

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xyoonx · 4 months

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This had to be the most cursed thing I've made

#yoon lost their shit #lovebrush chronicles #clarence clayden #godheim clarence #lovebrush chronicles memes #for all time #clarence #godheim

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yoonrambles · 4 months

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Neverending Dreams

Lovebrush Chronicles AU story !

Summary:

Clarence pondered about the mystery behind Professor Heinrich's disappearance. Every time he came to a logical point, it seemed futile a while later – with no evidence left behind, the authorities closed the case. But, Clarence was stubborn; he was adamant to find out about the truth. That night, a strange dream brought him to a land surrounded by snow.

Word count: 1780 words !

Ao3 link: here !

Thank you KaiyoAzuma for collaborating ! <3

Chapter 1: Dream of a

Bygone Past.

Clarence sighed at the investigation report in front of him. Despite hoping for a definitive conclusion to what had happened in the cave with MC and Headmaster Heinrich, the investigation came up with nothing new.

Headmaster Heinrich was dead, MC was involved somehow (the investigators didn’t know that and his mind kept needling him with the consequences of “obstructing the law” and “withholding evidence”), Headmaster Heinrich had been dealing with some sort of astronomy-related contraption, and after all of this, Professor Anselm decided to take an “extended business trip” for “overseas research”.

All in all, it was a headache for the Student Council President.

Regardless, nothing could be done about it. The investigators called it a cold case, and a new Headmaster, named Liore, was being called in to replace Heinrich. Rumors ran rampant among the students, but without a definitive statement from the administration beyond “We are sorry for the unfortunate passing of our Headmaster…”, they remained just rumors. With any luck, they would die down and the students would chalk it up to some health complication and move on with their normal lives.

Clarence packed up the files and moved to turn off the lights in the Student Council room. It was late, going early morning, and once the room plunged into darkness, the moon and the stars shone brilliantly through the window. The work of the Student Council couldn’t be put off, but the classes of St. Shelter never stopped either. He needed to go to sleep now if he didn’t want to rely on caffeine to get through the next day.

The walk back to his dorm was quiet. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and the click of Clarence’s shoes on the stone pavement. The wind brought a slight chill as it ruffled Clarence’s hair, but it wasn’t unbearable.

Soon enough, Clarence arrived back at his dorm. He went through the motions of preparing for bed - showering, brushing teeth, winding down - the fatigue of the day finally wearing down on him. He took off his glasses and set them down gently on the nightstand, settling in under the blankets. In the wake of everything that had happened over the past few days, sleep took him quickly.

***

The dream he had that night was rather peculiar. Clarence remembered dreaming of a snowy landscape; snowflakes drifting down as he stared into the horizon. He subconsciously moved forward, towards the small village between the mountains. The snow beneath his boots crunched with every footstep he took, the freezing wind made him shiver slightly. As he advanced towards the village, the residents greeted him cordially; both men and women, children and elders were delighted to see him. They began to gather around to see the magnificent man who had arrived at their village. Their bright smiles and sweet praises had taken him aback.

“I heard he saved a bunch of hunters stuck in a cave,” an excited boy from the crowd said with glee.

“Archmage Clayden is a wonderful man! He saved my husband and cured him with his magic,” a woman, presumably a hunter’s wife, commented.

Archmage Clayden… That must be who Clarence was dreaming of.

“What brings you here, Archmage Clayden?” A voice interrupted Clarence’s thoughts, he turned around to see a man smiling at him, extending a hand for him to shake.

Instinctively, Clarence refused the handshake and asked in an urgent tone, “Mayor, is there an Iris Village to the north of here? There's a farmer by the name of Oliver there.”

Clarence’s breathing became labored, giving away his nervousness.

“The Olivers? Everyone in Iris Village knows them. They've got a sprawling estate and huge tracts of farmland. They often come down here in autumn to sell grain,” a farmer lady politely replied. “Now that you mention it, you look a bit like their son… Are you a distant relative?”

“No, I'm visiting on behalf of a friend…” The Archmage replied, almost impulsively. Clarence could tell that he was lying. And without uttering anything further about the topic, the Archmage bid the villagers farewell and continued northward.

The next scene Clarence remembered was him standing on the edge, looking over at a village in the distance. The Archmage stood completely still for a moment, taking in the view. A villa stood in the middle of the snowy plains, with a distinct windmill and vast acres of fields surrounding the house. In the front yard of the villa, there sat an old woman in a wheelchair, and behind her was a young woman who whispered into her ear. Not far away, two men, one older and the other younger, stood in the doorway, looking out over their vast fields with contentment.

Clarence could tell they were related to the Archmage; the blue hair and eyes were undoubtedly similar – but, in an uncanny way, they were awfully similar to Clarence himself as well.

The Archmage stood on the hill, sighing softly. Clarence could understand that he felt conflicted. Any person would be excited to reunite with their family, but why wasn't he happy? Perhaps something disastrous happened between him and his family which created a rift in their relationship. Clarence didn't have much information in his hands, but in rural areas, and in such ancient times, it was common for impoverished families to sell off their children to earn money. After all, there was no despair greater than being betrayed by your own family.

The wind began to pick up, blowing from the north. Dark clouds appeared in the sky, and the freezing wind made the Archmage’s long, blue hair billow in the wind. The old woman and the young man went inside the house, and the Archmage turned around as well, leaving as he silently bid his family farewell.

Clarence, however, mumbled to himself and judged the Archmage’s decisions. He should've kept a proper plan with himself if he wished to visit his family, and he even left without a proper goodbye! The Archmage must be terrible at maintaining a proper timetable and etiquette.

Suddenly, the wizard stopped in his tracks, then he looked back – swarms of what seemed like butterflies were heading straight towards Iris Village. The butterflies had crystalline, almost transparent wings, they radiated a cold aura as they flapped their wings forward, advancing towards the villa at an impressive pace.

Without hesitation, the Archmage began to rush down the hill, over to the butterflies. Clarence noticed as the Archmage dispelled the butterflies with ease; a faint, blue-ish glow emitted from his gloved palm – and Clarence assumed it to be a heat spell, which eradicated the butterflies. The sorcerer was fast, but the butterflies were faster; within a few seconds, they made it to the villa, destroying it as they went on.

Clarence could hear screams reverberating through the air, piercing the deafening silence. Pleas of help echoed against the billowing wind as the residents rushed out into the cold. But, that didn't help; within a second, they were frozen and demolished by the glacial butterflies thereafter. Wherever the butterflies went, destruction followed – and they proceeded to destroy both the sorcerer’s family, and his emotional stability.

Clarence could only watch quietly – how the helpless people suffered the wrath of the unknown calamity, creating a vast expanse of cold blizzard, leaving nothing behind as they rampaged throughout the land.

The Archmage stood amidst the snow, still as stone; his knuckles clenched as his breathing labored once again. Fighting back tears, he knelt down on the snow, an immense pain coursing through his body.

The blizzard brought by those pests has engulfed everything; his memories, his love and hate, his resentment – and everything he had left. All was engulfed under a blanket of cold snow.

“I didn't expect it… to end like this,” Clarence heard the Archmage mutter to himself. “How many nights did I spend thinking of what I'd say to them? How I hate them? Blame them? Or would I forgive them? Would I be happy to see them?”

Clarence felt a sharp pain in his chest as he heard further, and it gradually increased with every word the mage said.

“But that doesn't matter now,” the Archmage continued. “Death is the end of everything.”

***

Clarence woke up, drenched in sweat. He panted heavily as he fumbled to grab his glasses on the nightstand. Clarence sighed, rubbing his eyes before putting on his glasses.

Clarence wasn't the type to overthink dreams, he had much more important tasks to handle. But this one seemed different; the blizzard, the screams of the innocent civilians, and most importantly: the Archmage. They seemed to be familiar. His appearance, behavior – everything seemed familiar. Did this have to do something with the case?

“Of course, not.” Clarence shook his head. “That was a simple nightmare.”

Clarence took his phone to check the time. 2:24 AM. He had plenty of time until the scheduled time when he usually started his day: 5 AM. He could've slept some more, but he didn't. He got up, folded the blanket, and put the pillow – which he had kicked while fighting the butterflies in his sleep – back to its place.

Clarence wondered what he'd do, and out of his workaholic nature, decided to sit down and work on some pending documents regarding the Student Council. But as he sat down to type, he found himself constantly getting distracted by the dream he had. He couldn’t help but feel that it had something to do with the case, with MC; he got reminded of the time when the painter girl asked for his blood before she swiftly jumped into a portal, onto a butterfly's back… wait – butterfly?

The soft sounds of typing came to a stop. Clarence stared blankly at the screen, his brows furrowed. He saw destructive butterflies in his dream, and a wizard losing his roots in the process of exterminating them. It sounds bizarre, but Clarence felt like it must be an important key.

That feeling only grew as, over the next few days, Clarence continued to dream of that desolate, snow-covered land. The mystery kept growing with every dream he had, reaching a point where sometimes he woke up disoriented and unable to tell whether or not his dreams were reality. He couldn’t continue working with his dreams infiltrating his every waking thought, so he opened a new document and began typing down his ideas: his dreams and what he had witnessed in them. And gradually, he seemed to notice a coherent plot and story flowing with every dream that he encountered. Then, one day, he came to a decision that he should publish the story.

Taglist: @lovebrushed @xcerizex @food-lover9000 @godheimm @xbalayage @nehamerchant123

Guys, wake up, fanfic writer Clarence just dropped !

#‎ ‎ ‎ ✎‎ ‎ ‎ | yoon's projects ♡ ₊ ⊹#lovebrush chronicles #clarence #clarence clayden #lbc clarence #godheim #godheim Clarence #for all time #lovebrush chronicles x reader #clarence fanfic writer au

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