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mobiletextgamesaremakingmebroke · 2 years

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MC: I don't know Jessy. It really sounds like he likes you.

Roxy: Whose Jessy?

MC: Shit wrong message! Sorry Roxy!

MC: Did you throw away the clown doll?

Cleo: What?

MC: Damn it wrong chat. Sorry Cleo!

MC: Question. What's the first thing I should learn to defend myself against a masked bird man?

Julius: I gotcha. *sends video about basic self-defense lessons*

MC: Not who I meant to send this to but this really helps! Thanks Julius!

Julius: Wait who did you mean to send it to?

MC: Ok I think I could get into better shape to avoid crow guy. At least enough to outrun him. Tips?

Dan: First you got to set your schedule and your limit, don't want to burn yourself out. *continues with tips*

MC: You're a life saver Dan! I meant to ask my gym trainer friend but I'm glad you had some great advice too!

MC: I swear that Crow's accomplice is more creepy than Crow themself.

Duskwood chat: *multiple users typing*

Jessy: ACCOMPLICE?

Dan: I knew it!

Thomas: When did you learn this?

Cleo: MC what accomplice?

MC: FUCK WRONG CHAT

Duskwood chat: *multiple users typing*

MC: Has there been any more raven markings? Do we know who Man Without A Face is targeting next?

Strangers: *multiple users typing*

Bernd: Who is the 'Man Without A Face'?

Anna: Oh my god.

Anna: Does that freak have another person helping him?!

Roxy: I can't deal with another psycho!

Valentin: I'm sure MC will explain. Also 'raven markings?'

Tim: For sure, we're missing something here. MC?

MC: FOR FUCK SAKE WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS! WRONG CHAT, DISREGARD THAT MESSAGE!

Strangers: *multiple users typing*

Julius: EXCUSE ME WRONG CHAT? HOW MANY MASKED FREAKS DO YOU KNOW?

Jake: I leave you alone for a bit and somehow you cause this much trouble in the group chat?

MC: Jake!

MC: You're online! Finally!

MC: Anyway I need to introduce you to Shadow. They'll probably be able to explain everything better than I can. I keep getting masked bird men and group chats mixed up.

Shadow: Hello! And true you have been struggling with that.

MC: Bright side. I haven't mixed up Hannah and Klara yet.

Shadow & Jake: YeT?!

165 notes · View notes

mindful-daze · 2 months

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Tim: MC, keep an eye on Julius today. They're going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

MC: Sure, I'd love to see Julius getting punched.

Tim: Try again.

MC, sighing: I will try to stop Julius from getting punched.

#reality games #the healing #the healing incorrect quotes #the healing julius #the healing mc #the healing tim

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nosleeppotions · 2 years

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(perhaps I should add: slight spoiler warning)

"Pretend to be his friend, Shadow said. It'll be fine, Shadow said. It'll get us information we need, Shadow said. Everything will WORK IN OUR FAVOR, SHADOW SAID! Well guess what?! It didn't work out and nothing makes sense! You don't have to worry about dying alone at this rate, Shadow, because I'm absolutely haunting you if I die out here." Mave mutters angrily, running through the narrow alleyways with only a backpack that was packed in a rush, his wallet and his phone (and of course the clothes he was wearing) to his name. He was absolutely not going back to his job or his apartment, whatever happens back there isn't his problem right now.

He has no actual destination in mind, but at least it didn't feel like a bunch of unblinking eyes were staring at him anymore…

This entire situation was a mess.

#the healing #just for fun #random #writing #male mc #the healing mc #how should we tag this?#ocs #The Healing's Shadow #??#idk #spoiler warning #duskwood #fanfic writing #fanfic

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agorejessstone · 2 years

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Hey gorgeous! Promise I will get back to writing soon!

The Healing ep. 4 came out and we've had some technical issues and I am working with the team to repair them.

If you have had the issue where you download the update but during install it gets stuck at 54% or so, please take a video and send it to their email listed on the store page.

In the video, please start the screen recording BEFORE you launch the game and let it run until AFTER 30 seconds of being stuck.

They are aware. They have stopped all roll out of updates until we find the issue.

Thanks for being patient.

#duskwood game #duskwood #duskwood everbyte #the healing mc #the healing game #reality games the healing #the healing content #the healing fandom #the healing #i am tired

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pursuitseternal · 6 months

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“All Vim and Vigor, dearest…” a soft, nsfw Vampire Rogue Astarion update for “Bites in the Night:”

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 4K wound tending sex

Summary: the aftermath of a battle, and one companion is missing. Astarion. You race to find him, pulling him the the grip of death.. true death. Your tender, loving care can restore him. After all, you have to make sure all his vim and vigor is returned to him. Entirely.

CW: Blood, near death experience, healing, wound cleaning, flirtation, awkward Karlach interrupting growing intimacy, blow jobs and mutual hand jobs and fingering, just too be sure everything is… healed.

For @genesis-6666 💌

Read here if you prefer on AO3

Find him, save him…

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The dead lay around you. Goblins. An ambush. You bend over, hands on your knees, panting to catch your breath. Your wounds are minimal, and already Shadowheart has run to find the rest of your party, healing… or reviving… when needed. She looks up from over Gale’s body, his chest finally breathing again. But her eyes look worried. You scan the area, seeing everyone staggering between the trees. Almost all, you realize as your thumping heart stills. There is one of you missing. And your stomach twirls in knots as you realize just who.

You spin your head, looking. “Where is he?” you call to her. “Where’s Astarion?”

She shakes her head. “I thought he was with you, on the high ground,” she pants. “He was up there last I saw.” Her lithe hand points into the crags of rock and mountain that line the canyon.

It had been quick, sudden, and brutal. The ambush of Goblins swallowing you up. Last you remember, he had stared at you. Excitement, surprise, the thrill of bloodlust and eagerness in his eyes, as the goblin ranks kept coming and coming down from those ridges. One last fang-flashing smirk before he ran into the shadows, skirting up to their source. Your fearless, reckless, stupid rogue.

You hurry, scrambling up the trail, swerving past the thicker pools of goblin blood, leaping over their bodies. You see them scattered all over, dagger stab wounds and slashes.

Signs that he was here.

It’s carnage that you push past. Climbing higher until you reach a plateau, empty, the end of the trail, where you expect to see your vampire, your rogue, your… your love. But there is… nothing. Not a body. No enemies. No Astarion.

Panic fills you, heart rapping in your chest, breath growing short. But you force yourself forward. You make your eyes scan the ground for any clues. His blood. Or signs of his capture. You make your lungs fill, you shout his name…

Then, you hold your breath.

A faint groan comes from the distance, somewhere near the sheer rock face that pierces the sky, from the dense shrubs that line it. You race after it, feet almost skittering as you stumble in that direction. Your hands pushing into the brambles, catching sight of pale skin. Covered in blood.

You reach for his body. His skin is cold, waxy, and tight. You find one arm and pull. He groans as you tug, you grab his second arm, freeing him from the brambles, even as your lungs ease to see his face again.

But your hope fades to agony, his face is bruised and beaten, black and blue and shadowed more than his undead charisma. His breathing is quick and shallow, his eyes nearly swollen shut from whatever beating he took up here. You finally slide him free, his clothing is torn, almost every inch of the skin you see is darkened with bruises.

His voice shakes as he tries to catch a breath, eyes forcing themselves open to look at you. “You’re here,” he manages to rasp out. “I knew you would find me. You always find me.”

“Shhh,” you run your hand through his hair, his brow damp with sweat, his eyes losing focus as his head begins to loll. “It’s going to be alright.”

“At least I got to see you once more…” his voice grates against his throat, breath growing ragged.

You hand digs into your pocket, pulling out your last vial of healing potion. You pull the cork and press it instantly to his lips. The liquid flows into those pale lips, and you can only kneel and pray it’s enough. His breath begins to ease instead of rattle, his face beginning to heal, his pallor returning, the traces of blue-black death fading.

His mouth twitches trying to talk. But you shush him softly, “I’m here, Astarion, it’s alright.”

“F-far from,” he ekes out as his eyes flutter open slightly, the swelling abating just enough for you to see both crimson eyes again.

“I’ll get you back to the others,” you look around, sizing up his lean body, running a hand through his hair before you brace behind his shoulders to get him to sit upright. He groans, limp in your arm. He can be so strong and swift, but it’s only now you also notice how lithe he is. How lean. But still, he’s too great a weight for you to bear alone.

That’s when the running of heavier feet makes your lungs fill fully and your heart leap in hope. “You found him, good for you, soldier!” Karlach trods right up next to you, barely out of breath. “Shadowheart said you would hopefully have found him, I’m to help you back where we are making camp.” Her thick tiefling arms pick him up, none too gently, and you hiss in worry to see him pulled to his feet so quickly.

“I swear, if you throw me around like that, I would puke on you if I had anything left in me…” he snipes as Karlach takes him by one arm, shaking her fiery head at his sass with a smile and waiting for you to take the other.

You snigger. He must be on the mend if he is throwing those barbs out again. But he falls silent again, head hanging low. You shoulder his body as best you can, bracing one hand on his bare chest, wishing for once he had a living heart that beat so you knew he was alive. “Stay with me,” you grunt, shoving your mouth into his long, pointed ear. “I’ll kill you if you die, you know.”

“I know… my sweet,” he manages to rasp, a slight turn of his head to throw you a feeble smirk. Karlach is definitely bearing most of him, but she doesn’t complain, not as you finally make it down the ridges and back to the main road.

“Not too much further,” Karlach heaves more of him on her shoulder, “Gale should have the tents up by now so he can rest.”

You three round a bend, the flickering of a fire and the spattered sight of tents warms your heart. You made it. Even the rose and burgundy canvas of Astarion’s tent is set to perfection. You’ll have to remember to thank Gale later, once your rogue is through the worst of it.

Into the warm dark you go, setting Astarion out on his bedroll, propping him cautiously on a stack of pillows.

“Water, clothes, and another potion,” Karlach points to the supplies placed tidily within reach. “I’ll be back, just shout if you need anything.”

And then she steps away, taking her warmth and her glowing presence back through the flaps of his tent.

You look after her, another friend you’ll have to thank.

Something hard and cold grips around your hand from where it rests on the ground. He’s clutching you, making sure he’s not alone.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before you rest it on his own stomach. “Let me get you cleaned up,” you look into his face, his eyes still shut, face still and unmoving. “Is that alright?”

“More than alright,” he speaks quietly, “the sooner you get rid of this stinking goblin blood off me, the sooner I can just savor that delicious fragrance of yours…” he hisses in pain before the last word is completely off his tongue. Your hand ghosts over the still-sprawling bruisers that run along his side. He tries so hard to be the usually suave, charismatic charmer, but something still troubles him.

Your hand hovers between the cloth and the potion, unsure what to do first. Then you hear it, a wracking cough, one that shakes his frame, bringing blood to his lips.

His blood.

You quickly uncork the second bottle, fairly shoving it in his mouth. “What did they do to you?” You barely get the question out your mouth as he sighs from swallowing the healing mix down.

“Thrashed me an inch from life… or an inch from undeath I suppose…” He forces a blithe smile, his giggle is slick with his own blood, but at least you can hear his lungs filling. More fully than before. The potion working to heal whatever internal damage he must have had.

You eye the red around his lips, pausing for a second. It was a common sight, his bloodied lips, but… never his own blood.

You wonder, for a moment, how does he taste?

You know the salt of his sweat, the bitter tang of his cum, why not? Why not see what his blood tastes of, for once…

“Gods below,” he throws you a mischievous smirk. “You’re wanting to taste my blood now, aren’t you?” You feel your surprise lifting your face, and he only sucks his teeth, shaking his head in feigned disbelief. “Tch, I don’t need a spell to read your dirty thoughts, darling…”

Your eyes dart to his conceited, smirking mouth. You hold your breath… until you close your hand around the towel and soak it in the soapy water. “Don’t be ridiculous, Astarion…” you huff, starting to bring the cloth to his face.

His hand grips the back of your neck, clutching you against his mouth for a wet and bloodied kiss. It tastes… ancient, refined and heady. Rich in a way that coats your tongue, even as his own delves in to tangle with yours. You swallow, sucking on his lips for more. He laughs, lightly, hiding a groan, “If you’re planning on more rigorous pursuits, I’d say I need bathing and tending first, darling.”

You pull away, shocked at yourself, so aroused with him only moments ago near-death. Your cheeks flush, white hot as you begin to clean him. He closes his eyes, propped up as he is on pillows. Lounging, relishing your full attention.

You wash and rinse, wash and rinse. It’s hard not to stare at his beauty, at the hard edges of his cheeks and jaw, the little lines about his eyes that crinkle when he smirks or laughs. He locks those piercing eyes on you as you dip the rag back and wring it out. He stalks every movement you make, washing his body lower and lower, inspecting his bruises as they slowly fade with the healing magic.

You finish his chest, forcing your breath to steady as you wash that rising and falling belly of his.

“Are you sure I don’t need tending any lower…?” he purrs.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Perhaps you rest first before you insist on everything checked for being in good working order, hmm?”

He rolls his eyes back in his head, a sigh of total emphatic drama. “Doctor’s orders…” he grumbles, lounging back against the throws, but not before he gives a little thrust of his hips, a clench of his belly under your hand where it rests on him still.

“Sleep, you scoundrel,” you chide, reaching to dry off his now clean skin, savoring the fresh scent in the air from the soap. You feel his body, still tense under your touch, wound tight and stiff that isn’t the result of his charming flirtation or dirty, lustful thoughts. You look at him, staring at his face, worry furrowing your brows. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes flicker over you, bright with mischief, half-lidded with flirtation. “Vampires don’t require… sleep. Not much. Not as much as… well… other things…”

You look into that beautiful face. He’s gaunt. Pale, well more than usual. Rings line his eyes, cradling that crimson glare in shadow. His lips twitch, fighting the urge to bare those glistening and pointed fangs.

“Oh, gods, now?” you breathe, heart racing.

He waves a hand dismissively, a sharp edge to his voice. Hungry. Annoyed. “Well, if you don’t want your strong, well-fed vampire to heal completely, then by all means…”

“No,” you almost leap next to his face, those smirking eyes scan over you, dilating in his hunger, fixating on the rapid pulse you know must be just throbbing under your skin for him to salivate over. But his hand grips yours, raising it to his lips. Kissing your fingers so softly, your stomach drops and your throat tightens. Slowly, he turns your hand over in his, raising your tingling inner wrist to his nose. You feel his breath, cold and quick, as he inhales your scent. Probably already savoring the scent of your blood rushing just beneath your skin.

“So then, I may?” his voice almost fails to reach your ears, you hear it more from the little tickles his breath makes across your skin, the gentle flutters of his lips over the nerves of your wrist. Like lighting in the air, his breath ripples in pinpricks on your skin.

“Yes,” you sigh, lungs burning as you hold your breath until he bites thos razor-sharp fangs into your tender flesh. Gasping, you hold your wrist to his mouth, every drop of your blood that leaves you, you can almost feel, almost sense, how it makes him stronger again. Empowered again. Hungry again for more.

It just feels so good, even as he feasts on you, as you savor that strange sensation that follows every time he feeds, that union of your bodies, your blood sating his hunger, beginning to course in his veins. A small, strangled moan escapes your lips, your eyes fixated on the way his mouth sucks on your wrist. You’ve never seen it before, never been able to watch his consuming of you, as he drinks from your neck. The little ways his tongue laps at your skin, the small bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallows you down. A different sort of pleasure denied you when he drinks in the middle of the night. Your stomach churns, your thighs burning hot as you can’t look away.

A slight, definitely insufferable smile tugs at the corner of his lip as he sets your wrist back in your lap. “Liked what you saw?” he preens, so proud as he dabs a single finger at the bloodied corner of his mouth. “Or just thankful I’m still here to have my fill of you?”

“Both,” you reply before even a second thought crosses you mind. Your sight lowers to his mouth, you can almost feel those lips on yours, the way the twitch ever so slightly, the little tweaks that lift them to show those pointed fangs you love to have catch your flesh and nip at you when he kisses….

So close, you feel him closing that distance, his breath rushing into you, filling your lungs, your soul, ice cold and tangible.

“Hope you like rabbit, Gale’s got stew nearly done for…” Karlach sticks her flaming, sparking scarlet head into your tent then she strides all the way in. Those glowing eyes go wide. You’re so close, even as you turn your head, you can hear Astarion’s laugh tickle the creases of your ear.

You go flush, and not just because he insists on still giving your cheek a lingering kiss.

“Feeling better, is he?” Karlach laughs, a bit forced. A bit uncomfortable.

“Clearly,” you huff, sliding slightly from his side. But he only leans all the closer.

His eyes rake over you. You can feel it. You can almost see it in the way Karlach sifts from foot to foot. He chuckles, low and slow, “Yes, all vim and vigor, dearest. We were just about to discuss how I was going to make it up to her for all that attentive care and healing I required to pull me back from the brink of death…”

Your eyes flicker to Karlach, who would be blushing beet red now if she weren’t already so scarlet. “Ahem,” she clears her voice and stands quickly, “that’ll be my cue. I’ll leave you two to it..:”

“No it’s okay… the stew...” you begin but she’s already gone and yelling on the other side of the tent.

“Oi, Gale, keep it warm…” a long pause follows, a deep voice muted in the distance. Then Karlach guffaws with gusto. “Yeah, they’ll be fucking for hours most likely… she might not even be hungry once he stuffs her again…” the tiefling’s boisterous laugh fades as she trods away.

Your face goes hotter than an inferno, but that only makes his cold fingers sear all the more as he caresses your cheek. A single finger lifts your chin, turning your face towards that rakish, sultry smirk. “I thought she’d never leave. Now,” he hovers his mouth right over yours, “where were we?”

“We…” you clear your throat, “we were just making sure you were healed…”

“Mmmm, I’m pretty sure you’ve inspected me thoroughly everywhere but one place, darling,” he rasps, catching your lips in a commanding, languorous kiss.

“You almost died, Astarion,” you hiss between his teeth, fighting the way your folds are burning up, the way his other hand begins to slink over the buckskin of your breeches. “Should you really risk so much exertion?” Your body is tensing, your mind remembering the way he rattled as he struggled for air on the mountain, the way his flesh was blackened and sickly. Dead, almost truely dead.

His chuckle, that low-throated giggle, pulls you out of those macabre imaginings. “Well, I'd be more than happy to simply lay back and let you do all the hard work, if that’s what your concern is…”

You give him a mocking smile, “Oh yes, I’m very certain you are only doing this for my sake, love. Making sure I feel good after pulling you back from near death to life… well to undeath…” You give a sheepish grin, relieved that your humor only adds to the mischievous glint in his crimson eyes.

“You know me, the image of selflessness. I’m doing you a favor. If you left now…” his smirk widened, deliciously, wickedly, “…you’d be thinking about it all night.” His hand weaves into the little hairs at the nape of your neck, twirling them in the way he knows drives you crazy.

“Well, I suppose I can be persuaded… just to make sure you’re all vim and vigor.” You laugh as his hand is already loosening the laces of his breeches. “But,” you place one of yours to stay him a moment. Gods, you can already feel his cock, hard and pushing his way out for pleasure. You swallow, making yourself look in his eyes. At how they swirl with his lust, glassy with his need. “But you tell me the moment it’s too much, you promise?”

“If you wanted me to just be more vocal during our couplings, you had only to ask, darling…” he purrs, forcing his fingers loose under your palm to continue unlacing.

You grab them in yours. “I mean it,” you insist, hard in tone, commanding in just three words.

“I promise, I’ll say when, my dear,” he laughs, finally freeing himself from the confines of his breeches. You look down at him, his devious pleasure of just watching you crawling between his thighs.

You give his cock a good, long lick from base to tip, his groan of approval sending shivers between your own thighs. But you force a dispassionate hum as you wrap your lips around his twitching head. “Seems in good working order,” you whisper.

“I think it needs a little more.. attentive care, darling…” he groans, very loudly as you wrap your mouth all the way around him, taking him in deeply over your tongue. You roll your eyes, unsurprised at how he gives a moan with each suck you make, each lap of your tongue running up his length.

More vocal indeed.

You bob up and down, your lover relaxing back against his pillows, fingers toying languorously through your hair. Your own hand pumps over the rest of him that just can’t fit inside your lips. He feels so good, so hard and strong and full of life. And he seems to be getting louder… his moans increasing. “So good for me, darling…” he starts to praise. “Always so attentive and eager… and…”

You pop off him, meeting that insufferable smirk and quirked brows. “You want them to know, don’t you?”

“Me? Wanting to draw some attention to our lustful pursuits?” He casts that look at you that makes every nerve in your body flame with unbridled desire for him. “I just want them to make sure you care of me is certainly thorough,” he grins, “I’m just so… thankful… it’s hard to keep it in. After all you do… so much for me, darling…”

“Be a dear and shut up,” you purr, giving one more swirl around that ridge of his tip.

“Make me,” he growls, flashing that roguish smirk down at you, licking his lips.

You pounce, flooded with relief that he is alive... that he’s filled with all that vim and vigor and irascible, irritating sass. You’re brimming with the need to feel him, for all his taunting and flirtation, all his lust and passion, you’re just… happy he is here. To kiss, to fuck, to banter with. And you do make him shut up, your lips on his, your teeth sinking playfully into his lower lip, sucking it with a tug. You keep one hand on his cock, riding it, pumping it, keeping time with the way his tongue darts in and out of your mouth. Something cold slips under your shirt, his fingers skating into the band of your breeches.

You keep your mouth fixed on his, making certain he’s far too busy for any noises you can’t muffle. But as his fingers slip between your thighs, an unbidden cry rips from your throat.

“Who’s the loud mouth now?” He chides, sucking his teeth at you, even with your lips coupled as they are. He laughs again, his fingers catching on your clit just right as he rides up and down your seam. “Don’t cease your own task at hand on my account,” he sniggers, his cold fingers lacing around his shaft, interweaving with yours.

His breath sucks in yours. His fingers playing in you, teasing so much wetness from your folds, you wish you had just taken your pants off when you had the chance. Now it was too late. Now, you’d be sticky from your own arousal, probably covered in his cum too as you leave his tent.

The thought makes your cheeks burn but not in shame. In a searing wave of desire. Your hand works up and down, catching that thick, blunt tip with your thumb in the way that makes him groan. His kisses deepen, hungry and feral, the same he’s stoked in you with the little ways his fangs catch on the inside of your lips. He’s losing that refined control he keeps. Pushed past the calculating movements as you stroke him in your fist and lick his tongue with your own.

“Gods,” he growls, his cock so hard, his fingers inside you working at a fevered pace. “You’ll come for me too, darling. My recompense for your care.”

“Yes,” you moan, his fingers diving deep into your cunt, crooking on that sweet spot he knows well.

You clench, shaking as he pummels inside you, your own hand struggling to work on his cock with how hard he is. How thick he is. But the instant you drench his fingers and fill his palm as you climax, he follows you into that messy, groaning bliss. Hot cum drips down your arm, spattered on your sleeve, on the belly of your shirt.

He’s gasping into your mouth, his lips pulled back wide in a genuine smile. His forehead presses against yours as he catches his breath, stealing your own from your lips. “Well,” he pants, “am I fully recovered?”

“All vim… and vigor…” you heave, moaning as he slips his fingers from your thighs.

“Hmm,” he hums against your lips, trapping them in his own with a slight nip. “Are you sure you’re satisfied with my performance?”

You laugh, giving a little shove against his chest. “For now,” you tease, “but it seems another round of cleaning is in order.” Your hand reaches for the rag, wiping his juices from your hand, your arm. Only to hear him sucking on his own fingers.

His brow arched wryly as you turn to watch. Those two long fingers that still drip with your cum are shoved far back in his mouth, his tongue swirling over every inch. “What?” he smirks, “why waste something so delicious…”

You shake your head, lovingly irritated at his cheekiness, but already your body is already aching for more. “Perhaps,” you clear your throat, heart pounding as you watch him sliding those already drenched fingers over his tongue. “Perhaps you do need a little more inspection, just to be sure…”

“Thought so,” he sniffs, that insufferable smirk widening to show his teeth. “Best be sure… just in case…”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Read more “Bites in the Night:”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Ascended Astarion in “The Rogue You Were:”

🩸Part 1 🩸 Part 2 🩸Part 3 🩸 Part 4🩸

Read my Drabbles

“Just a Drop…” Astarion as Tav turns

“Beg me…” A highly NSFW Ascended Astarion x reader

“Your Reward:” Ascended Astarion Dark!Fic

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shepherds-of-haven · 3 months

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the five faceless lords that mc destroyed through magic watching them use their first and only word of power to cure a tree: 👿👿👿👿👿

Buubas having been KO'd by a ton of water before he could even get out of bed:

#buubas seeing MC heal a tree: are you fucking kidding me #Shepherds of Haven #silly #spoilers #heavy #chapter 8.5 #alpha build #alpha preview #chapter 4

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fey-ax · 11 months

Photo

A good man with good intentions...

In case you are wondering why this pic looks a bit funky. I used glaze on it. Glaze is a filter that makes it difficult for the current Ai systems to read the image. I recommend all artist to use it to protect their art!

#my art #husband #Can't wait to find out what atrocities he committed #touchstarved game #touchstarved kuras #kuras #kuras touchstarved #touchstarved #this is ment to be more metaphorical #he probaply was in his eldritch form when he healed MC #We'll see #art #artists on tumblr

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mobiletextgamesaremakingmebroke · 2 years

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MC Mixing Chats 4

MC: I miss my boyfriend.

Strangers: *multiple users typing*

Roxy: YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND?

Anna: Whose your boyfriend?

Lucy: What happened?

Julius: Is this really the time.

MC: I FOUND THE RIGHT CHAT THIS TIME! HA! I TOLD HIM I COULD!

MC: Has anyone heard from Jake?

Duskwood: *Multiple users typing*

Lilly: No? Wouldn't you hear from him the most?

Dan: Hacker Man finally leave you alone?

Jessy: I hope everything is ok!

Thomas: I haven't heard anything.

Cleo: Have you sent him a message? I feel like he'd reply pretty quickly if it's you.

Jessy: Or you could text Phil.

Dan: Like that's any better.

MC: Are you ok? I miss you.

Chat: *No reply*

MC: Please just say something.

Chat: *No reply*

MC: I'm worried.

Wolfe: MC are you ok? You remember what happened to Shadow right?

MC: goddamn it wrong chat.

MC: Not that I don't miss Shadow too, but I was looking for Jake.

#duskwood jake x mc #the healing #the healing game #duskwood/the healing crossover #duskwood #duskwood jake #the healing shadow #duskwood dan #the healing julius #the healing mc #the healing anna #the healing roxy #the healing lucy #duskwood jessy #duskwood cleo #duskwood lilly #duskwood everbyte #the healing wolfe

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imconfusingmyself · 2 years

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MC: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone.

Julius: Mine just says "Julius no."

MC: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

#the healing #the healing julius #the healing mc #the healing incorrect quotes

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nosleeppotions · 1 year

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Mal: uuh... you know that cake I've been meaning to bake as a late birthday surprise for Mave?

Mac: oh the one that we did ingredient shopping for less than an hour before that store's closing time?

Mal: yes...

Mac: you baked it? Is it Cleo standards? 😁

Mal: no.... I think I murdered a cake, but I dressed the remains in crumbled chocolate and edible glitter.... I think I made it convincing?

Mac: is that outer layer supossed to be the cream? I'm forwarding all of this to Cleo-

Mal: NO! 😱

#duskwood #duskwood mc #male mc #fem mc #duskwood cleo #image of cake #baking #random #just for fun #inspired by my own misery lol #trigger warning ?#idk #the healing mc #the cake looks better in the picture than irl...#It tasted great though

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totally-not-here-for-the-smut · 8 months

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Can't stop thinking that after what some of the M6 went through, trauma must have taken his toll on their intimacy. I have some headcanons about how the M6 handle their trauma in smut-fluff situations. Idk, it seems "wrong" to just ignore the fact? We didn't often get the chance to read some trauma-handling that isn't "oooh I couldn't stand the idea of sex but ☆magic love☆ healed me in just one thrust!"

Please note: Not meant to be realistic, let alone feticize it, it's just something that resonates with my idea of them. I'm no professional and didn't experience first hand most of this but if you did and doesn't rub you right please let me know and I'll try to do better.

So here's my headcanons about ~

Handling Trauma

Muriel ♧

Muriel doesn't mind nudity per se. Being shame about it something tied to social modesty, and him being a mountain hermit, it feels kinda natural to him.

But seeing entwined bodies? That's awful for him. The touch, the musle tension, the groping and the expressions, the sight of skin and flesh bending under his hands and a body pressed under him... no.

That's too much, too similar to wrestling for your life. He can't stand it.

... which is very difficult, given that he'd want to hold you tight, drawn his loneliness into your scent and be one with you.

So, you started slowly. Lights off (easy thing in his hut), you touching gently his chest, tracing his features with the lighest strokes.

He touched you as if you were a bubble ready to burst. His caresses were like leaves falling on your naked body, barely heavier than his warm breath on you.

Way later, the two of you discovered that he enjoyed using his lips way more than his hands - that didn't brought anything horrible back to his memory. Your -and his- bodies became maps to be traced with kisses and lingering sighs of desire.

He wanted to see you come, for he needed to see that those body of his was capable of giving pleasure and not just pain. You had to lie still on the furs of his bed, tights spread open to not make him feel chocked between them, your hands in his hair like a breeze.

Coming under his tongue left you shaking, grasping at the furs for comfort. You hurled in a ball, with a racing heart and short breaths that made you look so beautiful in your fragility that he couldn't help to - finally- lay beside you, taking you between his arms.

It's not like that night solved everything, but now the darkness of his hut is heavy with your moans. He still can't bear the sight of your body writhe against his, but now his hands knows all the mountains and valleys of your body, tracing the paths he came to know by heart. Now your curves melts into his, as the patience you took to know each other carved them as water on stone.

Does it work? Idk, I'll keep adding to it if I feel like it does

#i'm not great at this but i hope i did alright #muriel smut #muriel fluff #the arcana game #the arcana muriel #the arcana #muriel arcana #muriel the hermit #muriel x reader smut #muriel x gn!reader #muriel x mc #the arcana smut #trauma healing

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projectbluearcadia · 2 months

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I Am and Always Will Be

(Coping) Lucifer x GN!MC

[ Story Premise - Lucifer gets upset because you don't value yourself. ]

TW: SELF-HARM, SUICIDAL IDEATION

Note: The reason I have not marked this as mature is because everyone, including those who are underage, should know that they should seek help. If tumblr decides to give me a slap on the wrist for this, then so be it.

Wordcount: 1652

You don’t really remember how it first started.

A heartbreaking comment from a cherished friend, and suddenly you’re in the nearest bathroom with your hands on the sink. You look at yourself in the mirror, and all you can think is that there is something less than human staring back at you. Something cruel and hideous and malformed. You hate it. You hate it. You hate it so much that it makes your skin crawl. It makes your eyes water and your teeth clench.

You can’t escape it. You can’t run away. You can’t even scream, because what would be the point? You’d only attract attention to yourself in the most awkward place possible, where at least one person was trying to take a shit in peace. You can’t stand yourself. My personality is the problem. Every single time I try to make things work, it just turns to nothing. I overreact, and then it all falls apart. I’m so sick of myself.

You’re sick of it.

And that’s when you finally turn to it. To the only thing that stopped you from feeling like this, even temporarily. A blade, one that had broken free of your cheap shaving razor after you threw it one too many times. I want to see this horrid blood spill. I want it. I need it.

You drew a thin line. A thicker line. A deep line.

Your skin, already scarred in some places, was quickly smearing with blood. Drenched. The toilet flushes, and in hindsight, you vaguely realize that doing this in a public bathroom was a dreadful idea, and you leave, adrenaline pounding through your veins—

No one can know. No one should know. I don’t want them to know.

—Despite the fact that your blood is leaving a trail behind you, leaving you weaker and weaker with every step. It’s practically gushing from your wounds, and you start to sniffle. It doesn’t really hurt; no, the rush is still too strong. But for some reason, you can’t stop yourself from crying.

“Hey, someone spilled their Koolaid Ja… Holy SHIT!?” the person, likely from the bathroom screamed, and they fumbled at their phone as you ran further, further, further. “Why are you running away?! You’re bleeding!” Maybe I want to be bleeding, you have the time to think before a sudden bout of dizziness floods your brain. You collapse. You fall.

And fall.

<><><>

Surprisingly, you wake up. Funny; you wished you didn’t. Was this it? Was this your first (or was it second?) commitment to the hospital?

“Lucifer, they’re awake,” came a soft man’s voice, and no sooner had it come than was a man by your side. One with jet-black hair and tragically garnet eyes.

“MC,” he whispers, his hand caressing your cheek with shuddering fingers, and you find yourself realizing that was a dream. Or, rather, the reliving of how you came to live in the Devildom. You’ve been living here for months now, with Lucifer and his brothers in the House of Lamentation. You’ve been… enjoying living here. How could I wish that I wasn’t alive here?

“We took away their dagger,” Barbatos said gently as Lucifer shook, holding onto you. “They are okay.”

“MC, why did you do something like that?” Lucifer whispered, leaning his head into the pillow, right next to your head. His voice agonizingly shuddering, and your body wracks itself with guilt. “MC, MC, MC…” I should have finished the job so he wouldn’t have to feel like this.

“...I thought I hurt you,” you mumble. You expect him to yell, but the voice that comes from his mouth is soft and excruciatingly slow as he struggles not to sob.

“And you thought this would hurt me less?”

“Over time… yeah.”

“MC…” he whispers, and he sharply sniffles. It hurts to hear—the avatar of pride, breaking down and starting to cry because of you. Because of what you did. I should have eaten the rat poison. “How could you think that leaving a hole in my heart would hurt me less over time? What have I done to make you think that you’re not important to me? I haven’t been able to think for the past three days.”

“...I’m sorry.” You look away from his shoulder, shortly finding that Barbatos has quietly left so that you’re permitted privacy. “I just… I don’t know…” Your eyes prickle. “I-I just… I hate myself so much for what I put you through, and I… I can’t take it anymore.”

“And you think the best way to put me out of my misery is to rip out half my soul?” Lucifer gasps, and his tears hit your cheek as he finally brings his face up from the pillow to look at you. To show you the tears streaking down his pale, beautiful face. “Why didn’t you tell me anything? I already knew that you hurt yourself in the past, so why did you have to do it again, after all this time? What did I do to make you feel like that?”

“It’s not you…”

“It must be!” Lucifer retorts hoarsely, his hot tears splashing your forehead. “You’re supposed to be my partner, and I’m supposed to protect you! I couldn’t do that, so tell me why you couldn’t trust me! Please!”

“I…” Your voice is breaking up. From one hellish scene to another, you’re not sure how much your heart can take. “I’m sorry. I-I thought… I thought…you would hate me.” The mere thought sends your lacrimal glands into a frenzy as you realize he might hate you now. “I-I couldn’t bear to… lose someone else… so I…”

“Shhhh,” Lucifer hushes with anxious shudders, and he hugs you so tightly you wonder if he might be trying to break your ribcage. You can feel his ragged breathing, his racing pulse. You almost break into an incomprehensible mess right then and there, unable to speak a single word. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he murmurs, rocking you with him as you sniffle and try your damndest to get ahold of yourself. “I will always love you.”

“What if I kill one of your brothers?”

“You would never do that,” Lucifer murmurs, trying his hardest not to let his voice tremble.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I know you, MC.”

“No, you don’t. There are parts of me you’ll never know. There are parts of me you shouldn’t know.”

“I want to know.”

You shake your head.

“You can’t just keep hiding everything. I hate it when you do. Don’t you think I’m strong enough of a person to talk to you when you want to kill yourself?”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” you whisper.

“That’s irrelevant,” he says, recovering some of his usual sternness as he sniffles. “I don’t need to know how exactly it feels. I just need to know that you’re in pain. I just need to know if there’s anything I can do, anything I can’t do. Please, MC, I can’t just watch. That’s the only thing I’m not strong enough to do. Just indulge my selfishness and just… just lean on me. I don’t care if I have to take the entire burden myself.”

“You’re already carrying too much…”

“Me?!” Lucifer growled as he pulled away from you. “I’m not the one in agony! It’s true that I’m stressed, and I usually have a lot on my plate. But it stresses me infinitely more that my own lover won’t tell me about their problems! How hard do I have to drill it into your head that you come first?!”

“...sorry.”

Lucifer sighs deeply and heavily before he leans his head against yours, his fingers nestling into your hair, massaging your scalp.

“Please… don’t ever do that again,” he murmurs. “If you’re scared of losing me, then don’t eliminate any possibility of ever seeing me again. I don’t know where you’ll go when you die, but it won’t be here.”

“I get it, and I’m sorry,” you mumble.

“Do you get it?”

“I get that you’re mad at me…”

“Did you listen to a damn word I said?!” Lucifer snaps, his voice breaking again, and you flinch in his arms before he squeezes you again. “I’m not angry with you. I’m upset and scared. Do you have any idea what it feels like to not be able to protect someone that matters to you? That the person you love doesn’t even think they’re worth protecting? That I can’t help you through the monstrosities that plague your mind?

You can’t find it in yourself to answer. It’s painful to try.

“I’m begging you, MC…promise me. Promise me you’ll help me help you. I could live knowing that you are happy even if it’s in the human world. All I want is for you to live a full, happy life. I know you, and I know that you deserve that.”

“Do I? I’ve done so many things…”

“I let my own sister die,” Lucifer replies somberly. “I brought Satan into the world, confused and angry. I didn’t know that the only reason Asmo thought I kept him around was because of his beauty. I let Levi feel inferior. I locked away Belphie when we could have just talked… there are so many things I’ve done wrong, before and after falling from Heaven, and I hated myself for it. But I was the only one who kept hating myself after Belphie forgave me, after Satan accepted me. Anger is brief, MC. I, and everyone else, care about you so much more than all of the bad things that might make up your mistakes in life. I am, and always will, feel that way. I am, and always will, be there for you. Even on the occasions where I am not physically there, I am still there for you.”

“Always?”

“Always. So promise me… okay?”

From the author: As fans of my work may have guessed, I have been on both sides of this conversation many times. Talking about it was the best thing I, and people I knew, ever did. And, believe it or not, Lucifer has genuinely comforted me in both scenarios. I hope to have imparted some of that onto the audience regardless of whether or not they are struggling with depression, self-harm, or suicidal urges. The storm may rage, but I believe that we can be stronger than it if we stop trying to weather it alone. Thank you for reading my two cents, and I hope that both I and you can spread life and love rather than hatred and death.

Obligatory Suicide Hotline Information

(Seriously, PLEASE CALL THESE IF YOU'RE STRUGGLING)

U.S. 988

Canada 833-456-4566

Australia 13114

U.K. 0800-689-5652

For other countries and counseling services that may be available in your country -> OpenCounseling