#Eldritch-spouse

[ficfaun]

@eldritch-spouse it is very important that everyone knows Jayde has actually no bitches. In numerical quantity, his bitches amount to 0. 0 bitches in total. No bitches Jayde? Jayde has no bitches-

[hammernothannah]

This came to me in a fever dream. I made this a while ago but I completely forgot about it lol. To the lovely @eldritch-spouse, I "gift" to you (haha, get it?) this half-assed video I made.

[lycanthropedope-blog]

A (very late) valentines post of @eldritch-spouse's character, Ludwig, in my artstyle. Of her lovelies, he's one of my favorites! I meant to get this out sooner but one (or both?) of my cats knocked my drawing tablet off my desk cracking the screen. They have been taken into custody and will pay for their heinous crimes!(jk)

He's transparent btw!

[vaya-writes]

Not Quite A Life Debt - 2

A handful of f reader insert scenes with m demonic love interests. Fluff, hurt/comfort, and smutty shenanigans that lean kind of poly.

You (kind of unnecessarily) tried to save Ludwig’s life. Out of pity, he lets you crash at his place for a few weeks after. It probably wouldn’t be so bad, but he doesn’t live alone. Reader stays with the triplets until she gets back on her feet. Smut, family shenanigans, and possibly even romance ensues.

You settle in and meet Ludwig's family. There's a bit of a mix up regarding what humans can safely eat, and the start of some bonding with Obie. 3300 words.

Content warnings for this chapter include references to the last chapter (recovery from injury, very brief use of an inhaler, and mention of alcoholism), profanity, detailed food descriptions, food not safe for human consumption, someone (not reader) calls themself ugly and believes it. Divider by firefly-graphics. Also tagging @eldritch-spouse so she knows her clowns are being featured again.

Masterlist - A03 - Previous - Next

You’re pretty dazed when you step into Perdition.  

The events leading to this moment were stressful. Losing so much in so little time, having nowhere to turn; it’d all be overwhelming on its own. As it is you’re trying very hard not to break down in front of Ludwig, your new acquaintance.  

But moving to hell? That’s a whole new level of crazy you’re not quite ready to deal with.  

You take in your surroundings with a distant sort of interest. Ludwig leads you through a rough looking neighbourhood. It’s not the nicest place, sure, but you’re taken aback at how mundane the place is. Sure, there are demons in every window, and clustered around some doors and corners. There’s the flash of magic here and there, and things you'd rather not look too closely at. But it had never occurred to you that demons would require housing too. Would have their own suburbs and addresses. 

You’d laugh if it wouldn’t trigger a coughing fit. 

“So, I know you’re probably feeling,” Ludwig glances down at you, searching for a tactful word, “delicate, about now. But there’s a chance my family will be home.” 

“Yeah?” Your voice is hoarse. 

“Yeah. We were supposed to do dinner this week. But then you were in hospital and I had to postpone. My brothers will probably be lurking around until that’s dealt with.” 

Meeting people. You could handle that. Perhaps not right now, when you’re still clad in a hospital gown, and stumbling from exhaustion. But maybe after a nap? 

“Ok.” 

You travel another block or so before Ludwig comes to a stop before a two story home. It’s fairly unremarkable, if a little worn down. You might call it well lived in. 

He mutters a curse. “They’re home.” 

You wince. “I haven’t-” you hesitate to say you haven’t met a demon before. After all, you’ve known Ludwig for about a day. But still, meeting more than one right now is intimidating as fuck. Being here makes you nervous enough that you almost forget the week you’ve had. “Uh. Is there anything I should know before I meet them?” 

Ludwig frowns. Bothered, but it doesn’t feel directed at you. “Do you need a crash course in demonology?” 

“Uh,” you just want to sit down. “Not today?” 

His face crinkles some more. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, with his eyes always kind of closed. He lets out a long breath. “Obie is a glutton. Literally. He’s chill, but don’t leave anything small around him. Or your food unattended, if you’re particularly attached to it. And Mervin is a pride demon. He talks a lot of shit that he only means half the time. Expect to be criticised. It’s absolutely a front, but he can’t help it.” 

You bite your lip. “Sounds... kind of stereotypical?” 

“They’re stereotypes for a reason.” 

You realise you’re missing a key piece of information. “And you are..?” 

He blinks. (You think.) Then cracks the first smile you’ve seen him give. “Not obvious then?” 

You look him over. He’s of average build, a light red in colour, hooded eyes that he barely keeps open, and a set of ribbed horns of moderate size. Perhaps his type might be obvious to another demon, but you don’t know enough about demonic physiology to hazard a guess. 

“You slept through a building fire. Are you from Sloth?” 

He leans back, surprised, you think. “I’m from the common ring. Type is genetic.” 

You wait. 

“I thought you’d guess based on,” he waves at himself, “colour, but yeah, sleeping through a fire is a bit...” he trails off. “Let’s not tell my family about that.” He stands straighter, recovering. “I’m actually a wrath demon.” 

  You should probably feel something when he tells you that. Concern. Fear. Something. But you’re experiencing something akin to post exertional malaise. And it’s definitely rounding off your thoughts with apathy.  

You shrug. “Okay.” 

He seems confused. “Okay?” 

You nod. “Yeah. Okay. How am I supposed to react?” 

You’re pretty sure he’s staring. But after a moment he slouches. His voice softens. “Did you have any questions?” 

“Is there anything you think I should know?” 

He turns away. “Uh- not really. I... I know humans can scare easily. I’ve a bit more awareness of my outbursts than some wrathful types. Just... I suppose, ask before touching my things?” 

It sounds easy enough. You look up at the house with a sigh. “Alright. Can we get this meeting over with? I’d like to shower and then sleep for another week if possible.” 

He smiles again; the slight turning up of his lips. “That could be arranged.” 

--- 

Any other day and you’d be intimidated as fuck. Strange house, strange people, strange new rules, and you don’t know the half of them.  

You take comfort in the fact that Ludwig’s brothers are just as surprised to see you. The purple one – Mervin, you learn – stares daggers at you, silently contemptuous. Obie, the yellow demon with crooked horns, at least smiles, and shakes your hand.   

Then Ludwig is whisking you away to the spare room. “This used to be ma’s room. She didn’t leave a lot behind, but there might be an outfit or two. There’s an ensuite so you can have that shower you wanted.” 

“An ensuite and nobody uses this room?” 

He snorts. “We could never agree who got the room after ma moved out. To put things lightly.” 

The room is plain but it’s the nicest you’ve stayed in in a long time. The bed and wardrobe alone are luxurious compared to the hotel you’d been staying in. The clothes are a different matter.  

After rummaging through the drawers you hold up some pants, and try not to frown. “I think your mum’s body type is very different to mine.” 

Ludwig eyes the pants and huffs. “Yeah. I’ll see if anything of mine would fit you better.” 

He brings you some supplies. A towel. Clothes. Some soap. And then you’re left alone.  

--- 

Obie manages to keep his questions to himself. Even Mervin had kept his comments to a minimum, instead leveling Ludwig and his human with looks that could be deciphered as exasperated. Appalled. They wait until Ludwig comes back downstairs before facing him. Even then, they managed to hold off a little longer, until the sound of the shower begins upstairs, before giving him a proper dressing down. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” 

“You missed ma’s birthday for a human? Do you know how devastated she was? You could have called? Texted? Sent a fucking letter-” 

Ludwig sighs. Claps Mervin over the back of the head – somewhat viciously - before sitting at the table. “I did call, Merv. I told ma what had happened and got her damn blessing to stay on the surface. You’re just mad I didn’t tell you.” 

“Of course I’m mad. I cleared my schedule for this! What could be so important that you could just blow us off?” 

Ludwig laces his fingers under his chin. Would happily tell Mervin- if he hadn’t kept ranting. Pacing around the kitchen, gesticulating with anger. He shares a look with Obie, one honed by decades of dealing with the pride demon’s antics together. 

Obie understands. Gets up. Herds Mervin into a chair (even as he keeps talking). Cages him in with hands on his shoulders. 

“Shut up, will you? Do you want his explanation or not?” 

Mervin cuts off, sneering at his brothers. “Fine. Speak.”��

Ludwig grits his teeth. Has to swiftly decide which parts of the event to share. Not the drunkenness. That would just worry them. And if he tells them what you actually did to help, they’d probably experience the same bewilderment, the same condescension as he had. Mervin would have nothing but scorn for you, forever mocking your intelligence.  

“I was doing a layover in some backward little town when the locals tried to hate crime me.” 

His brothers straighten, attention immediately caught. 

“I’m fine. Obviously.” 

“What did they-” 

“They set the hotel on fire.” Ludwig huffs at their expressions. “I know right? Anyway, the girl tried to step in and help. People weren’t happy about it. She lost her home for the trouble. I offered to let her stay here or a while.” 

Mervin almost fluffs up, objections ready to spill, but Obie beats him to it: “That doesn’t explain why you were gone for several days.” 

Ludwig winces. He supposes they will find out about your blunder after all. “She’s been in hospital. She charged into the fire to try and help me. Inhaled a lot of smoke.” 

Mervin scoffs. “So she’s stupid.” 

Obie digs his fingers into Mervin’s shoulders. “Sounds like she’s kind.” 

Ludwig shrugs. “A bit of both, from what I can tell.” 

Mervin still sneers. “And nobody else could take her?” 

“No. I did not get that impression.” 

Obie shrugs. “Then there’s only one thing for it. She stays.” 

Mervin frowns. He’s definitely going to complain. But Ludwig spears him with a look that leaves little room for argument. 

Instead he stands. Scoffs, as he shoulders Obie aside. “You’re a bunch of soft-hearted fools.”  

--- 

The family dinner is rescheduled for the next day. You don’t care for the details, as long as you’re allowed to sleep. Using a real bed, in a quiet room is a wonderful treat compared to sleeping in a hospital ward.  

You woke when Ludwig had knocked. He’d brought you a bag of chips – a surface brand you recognise. You tore into those rather than risk the kitchen and running into the other occupants of the house. 

You’re not sure how much time had passed when you finally creep downstairs, drawn by the smell of cooking food. You’d slept in. Presumably. With the strange lighting in Perdition, the lack of clocks in your room, and your phone being flat, you haven’t an idea of the time.  

The yellow one is busy in the kitchen, cooking with practiced ease. There’s meat in a frying pan, while eggs cook in another. You watch as Obie cracks an egg open– it's large, too round, and certainly not from a chicken. You almost miss the way he tosses the shell. It flies in a perfect arc before landing in his open mouth.  

You hide your wince before making your way to the dining table. Ludwig sits at it, in deep conversation with another yellow demon. This one a plump woman with her hair styled neatly. You try not to stare, but she’s honestly the first demon you’ve seen with hair. 

Her deep green eyes flick to you and she smiles. Her voice is pleasant. Sweet. “This is her?”  

Ludwig nods, and introduces you to his mother, Katia.  

She seems lovely; fussing over you while you wait for dinner and asking if you’re well. She asks about your pain, your sleep, how you’re settling in. When the conversation meanders back towards herself and her family she chats about her sons in a way that’s frankly endearing. You catch a darkness on Ludwig’s cheeks that might even be blush.  

You actually manage to relax, smiling and nodding along politely, answering questions here and there. Thankfully she doesn’t ask you anything too personal. It goes on until Mervin joins you at the table and Obie brings out the food. 

You stand and offer to help, to set the table, but Obie and Katia brush you off, the later insisting that you’re a guest, that you’re unwell – you should be resting.  

They’re not wrong. Even the small amount of conversation that you’ve made has left your throat feeling agitated. You have to use your new inhaler before settling in for food.  

Obie serves you your plate. There’s eggs, toast, sausages, and fried meat. It all looks familiar, but distinctly off. The egg yolks are too small, too green. The meats have an almost purple sheen. The toast is oddly shaped, like it had risen differently. 

Still, you don’t want to be rude. 

It’s been said that you’re a little stupid.   

You certainly do nothing to detract from that argument when you cut a small piece of meat and toast and take a bite. 

In your defence, you’re hungry. You’re being polite. You don’t want to rock the boat by asking somebody to accommodate for your very basic and important needs. 

Regardless, you can’t help but hesitate at the taste. You chew carefully and swallow while sensation spreads across your tongue. 

“So... what are we eating?” 

Four heads turn your direction. They blink. 

“Oh fuck,” Ludwig swears. 

You pale at his oath, freezing before you can cut another bite. 

The taste begins to sink in. Savory. Rich. Intense. It’s nearly overwhelming the way your mouth alights. You do your best to keep a straight face, but fail.  

Mervin mutters something. Some insult. Some comment on your intellect. While Obie jumps up. Fetches a glass from the kitchen and fills it with water. “I’m so sorry, Bon. I completely forgot- here, drink.”  

The water helps. Barely. It still takes a minute for the taste to start to fade. You end up drinking the whole glass, hoping to dilute the taste of whatever the fuck you just ate. Not that it was bad. Just... unexpected. Overwhelming. You’d never had a taste threaten to overwhelm you before. It's certainly a new sensation. 

There’s a myriad of embarrassed looks around the table. You’re glad you’re not the only one. Hoping to diffuse the tension, you joke “Nothing poisonous I hope?” 

Obie shakes his head. He looks almost downtrodden. “No. Just... food local to these parts. I forgot that humans aren’t used to it.” 

“I’ve some junk food stashed in my room,” Ludwig stands, “Earth brands, so it should be safe.” 

Obie shifts, “yeah, about that...” 

Ludwig stills. Stares hard at his brother, you think, before turning and stomping towards his room.  

There’s a silence before- 

“You insatiable fucking rat. What have I told you about touching my things?”  

“Mervin, go stop your brother from getting too worked up.” Katia intercedes, calm as still water. “Obie, you need to replace what you took. Now.”  

Obie grumbles and stands. He picks up his plate and literally tips the contents into his mouth, jaw unhinging impressively to accommodate the mouthful.  

You try not to gape.  

He turns to you. “Wanna come with? You can pick out the foods you like?” 

You glance towards the hallway, where you can hear two raised voices, now coming closer. It’s an easy choice. 

You join Obie by the door, stepping into the sneakers Ludwig had leant you. “Sure.” 

--- 

 It’s an effort not to gawk at everyone you pass. Now that you’re rested and slightly more cognisant, everything around you seems novel. You’d flitted from small town to small town for most of your life. Hadn’t seen many monsters at all, let alone demons.  

Here, they’re everywhere. And you notice, with gradually increasing discomfort, that they’re also very much aware of you. 

You make it to a market. Obie grabs a shopping trolley and leads you towards the ‘interspecies foods’ aisle. They have a basic selection of human foods there, but there’s enough that you won’t have to eat the same thing every day. Mostly. 

Obie carefully picks out some sweets and chip packets, scowling all the while. “I can’t even remember the specifics. Do you think he’ll notice if I get the wrong chocolates?” 

You spare him a glance, before going back to monitoring your surroundings. There are even more eyes on you now. “I don’t know. As long as you get him a kind he likes?” 

He hums his agreement, and starts filling the cart, comically emptying out an entire shelf. 

“I think people are staring.” 

“There’s a glutton in a grocery store, of course they’re staring. You gonna pick what you want?” 

“Will they take my money?” 

He pauses to consider. “No.” 

Your stomach picks a bad time to rumble. 

Obie gives you a pat on the head. “Not to worry. This time it’s on me.” 

You’re relived, but your anxiety only lessens marginally. This family is already housing you. You don’t want to rely on them for food too. Gratitude tends to run thin in the face of inconvenience.  

You pick out a couple of things. Sandwich fodder. Cup noodles. Milk. But Obie doesn’t seem to notice your hesitance and empties out several more shelves of your favoured foods. Soon you have enough stock to last you weeks.  

Maybe he does notice. Because he prompts you to pick something else. Firmly redirects you towards the aisle again when you make to leave. “Nobody goes hungry in our house.” 

Until the shopping trolley is full. To the point where overflow is a risk. You watch Obie balance more onto the precarious pile, impressed by how much he’s managing to carry. 

The sight fills you with amusement. Enough that your anxieties ease, if only for the moment.  

But once you leave the store, your concerns resurface.  

“They’re still staring.” 

You can’t help but glance down at yourself, self-conscious. You are wearing a pair of tights from Katia’s supply and one of the shirts Ludwig had leant you. It’s oversized, but not horrendously so. 

“Don’t worry, Bonbon, they’re staring at me.” 

There’s that nickname again. It’s sweet. Almost ridiculously so, and you’re not sure if you’ve done anything to earn it. It distracts you enough that you almost forget the stares. But you can’t help but circle back to them.  

You don’t really believe him. Maybe some of the stares are levelled at him? But it seems to you that everyone is gawking at the human. 

“Why would they be staring at you?” 

“Well, I’m kind of ugly.” 

Your head jerks in his direction, unbidden. You haven’t heard somebody describe themselves so frankly since- well you’re not sure if you ever have. 

You regard him carefully. Search for the source of his comment. He’s the same build as his siblings. Yellow, in a pallor that is obviously inhuman. Average, as far as demons go, with two horns and tail. His horns are asymmetrical; curved and bent unusually. He has the same thin spade tail as his brothers, except the length of his is visibly kinked in several places. It lacks fluid movement – twitchy almost in a way that makes you think of broken bones and nerve damage.  

Still. You wouldn’t consider him ugly. Just different. “Are you?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs. Gestures to what you had observed. His horns. His tail. 

His casual demeanour is almost forced. You start to suspect that he was being quite serious when he called himself ugly. 

It bothers you enough that you step closer to him and speak in a murmur, “you look fine to me.” 

He huffs a smile. “Well, aren’t you sweet? Don’t worry about me, I’m used to it.” 

His lightness irks you. You almost pout. “Nobody here looks normal to me. I don’t know what demons are supposed to look like. So you can believe my unbiased opinion when I tell you that you look fine.” 

He looks away. Seems to consider. Before shrugging. “I’ll take your word for it.” 

You can tell he’s not taking you seriously. This time you do pout. You push past your discomfort and link your elbow with his.  

His head whips towards you, surprised at the contact. 

You ignore his shock. “I’ve got a lot of gaps in my knowledge about demons. Want to fill me in while we head back?” 

He turns away, quiet for a moment, before shrugging again. “What did you want to know?” 

Next

[the-madwoman-posts]

Babys first mark! Unfortunately, Shae got a little mixed up…

Mervin belongs to the wonderful @eldritch-spouse

[monsterwhorre]

Wanted to draw some fanart for @eldritch-spouse but I sadly do not have the abilities to draw big men with big tits personalities so I decided to draw our favorite pink lil succubus instead :D

I should probably finish my other ten drawings now

[drunkenmantis]

Angel and Demon

[doodleferp]

How DARE you make this wholesome, I was trying to be FUNNY

What if sloth babies were notorious for being born past their due date because they fell asleep and forgot when they decided to be born

[I'll do ya one better-]

Sloth demon babies are not only notorious for taking longer than other pregnancies- They're known for appearing like they're stillborn.

No one would blame you if you were to look at your recently born baby, who has yet to make a peep or move a muscle, and started sobbing immediately.

The doctors rush over to your side and try to explain what's actually happening, but you're not having it, crying and twisting in agony- Until one of them comes over with your child and places your hand on their tiny chest. You feel it rise and fall softly, craning your head to hear a quiet heartbeat.

... They're sleeping.

[twetterbirdy]

First  •  Prev   • Next • Usernames • Masterlist

[ficfaun]

Oh my…………. A colored doodle appeared!

This is LaFleur, a succubus imp and TCE* OC of mine, she’s part of a trio!

*TCE belongs to @eldritch-spouse, not me! LaFleur is only an OC based on their universe/blog!

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

I’d love to hear your thoughts on what Eldritch peredhel entail

-@@outofangband

Sorry this took so long @outofangband and thank you for asking this I am! Delighted! And am preemptively putting a read more down because I cannot shut up about they <3

alright I'm just gonna put stuff and headcanons down as they occur to me so expect low-moderate levels of coherency

shapeshifting is an obvious one (gets weaker down the generations) but because my brain is Like This I have caveats!

thanks to my whole peredhil things=gender allegory that my brain spit out without my permission I've long struggled against my inherent feeling that while they can shapeshift they don't like it

but because I'm now aware of my brain's reasoning I can say it's because of ✨fantasy dysphoria✨

that's oversimplifying, obviously, but peredhil already have so much issues with working through who and what they are and compromising between body and mind and spirit that actively choosing to change into/present as something/someone who They Are Not is. Not usually their cup of tea.

As a whole they tend to have specific forms that they prefer as being closer to themselves, and distinct enough that it doesn't feel like they're faking something they're not

(changing to look like a different person, or a edited version of themself is Very Very not fun unless either explicitly for disguise or shenanigans)

(the exception to this is that Luthien can make herself look almost perfectly human without any real issue. she doesn't do it often but especially as she ages she likes to catch glimpses of her reflection and get both excited and sappy. this is in contrast to making herself look almost perfectly like an elf which makes her feel like her skin is on fire.)

(Also I'm pretty sure all of them can flip their agab presentation while only feeling varying degrees of off, and even then it's a different feeling than the shapeshifting dysphoria. Dior and Elwing are the two who I think mind it the most)

They all have the (agonizing to write) trait of feeling very distinct relationships to their species in their body vs soul/mind vs spirit/fea and they all feel it very differently! This isn't exclusive to Luthien's line but the maia blood does make it worse.

Oh! This is a new headcanon of mine actually but!

They all have faces that are very very hard to capture in image. They are the bane of portrait artists (and, to a degree, sculptors) everywhere because the art never looks accurate to life

It's not blatantly off it's just. missing something? Or something was added? maybe it's a little too wide, or narrow, or long, or short, in one place or another

It's not unrecognizable but if you've ever seen the subject in real life you can just tell

It's especially bad with Luthien (and Daeron) and Dior (to a lesser extent) because everyone literally sees them differently, as in their features will be slightly different depending on what each person finds attractive/aesthetically appealing and beautiful

(not a lot, again, it's not unrecognizable, but there has never and will never be any accurate depiction of Luthien as she was as a person)

(as a concept, though, as the most beautiful creature to have ever existed in Arda, a little of her image exists in every portrait lovingly made of a beloved spouse, every child's drawing of their family, in biological sketches of songbirds and field mice, in a sculpture of a stranger's face. Daeron remembers his sister perfectly, but he collects these regardless)

(Arwen, Luthien come again, isn't described as such by her grandparents. Galadriel and Celeborn both knew Luthien, and while Arwen and her father both look as closely to her as genetically possible, to those who actually know them both it's nothing more than uncanny family resemblance. Luthien was to most a concept personified, Arwen is a person with concepts imposed on her.)

The list of people who have seen Luthien how she actually, physically, defaultly is, essentially consists of Melian, Daeron, Beren, and Dior

Beren doesn't see her as she is right away because he doesn't know her right away, but they learn about each other and she shows herself and he sees her and by the time she rescues him from Tol-im-Gaurhoth there are no echoes on her face

(He's always a little bit haunted that he nearly died without realizing he'd never quite seen the truth of her before)

Neither Thingol or Beren can quite see their own features on their children's faces. They clearly take after their mothers, after all!

(This leads to much affectionate eye-rolling on Melian and Luthien's part)

Hair stuff!

It's alive! kinda! it's definitely not normal hair!

It moves a lot on its own. Sometimes like a breeze is blowing where there isn't one. Sometimes more like tentacles. It depends on its mood.

They've got some very pretty traditional cosmic horror vibes swirling around on their heads. It's very sparkly and colorful but in a Forbidden Shrimp Colors that your brain is unable to comprehend way so it reads as iridescent black mostly, or holographic white, where applicable

Luthien's hair actually is a glimpse into space, Daeron's is a glance at a star

(Luthien's magic hair cloak survives, I think, into the 4th age and beyond, though if anyone/anything has found it they certainly don't know the origins of the beautifully intricate living star map. It has seen the reign of countless north stars, yet the lines always point to the same coordinates- where the ancient, sunken, ruined remains of what once was Tol-im-Gaurhoth lay)

Speed round!

Fangs and talons and horns oh my! Are they tooth and keratin and bone, or are they petrified wood and gem and stone? Yes!

They all smell a little like ozone and a lot like petrichor, flowers, and Green. If you've smelled green you know what I'm talking about. Also, unfortunately, like bird. Birds don't smell great, especially wet bird.

Weird Foresight Powers++

(Most of them don't have actual foresight, but all of them are more in-tune with the Song than is natural for an incarnate)

Their eyes glow, most notably in the dark, unless the irises turn black as they sometimes do. They are also all unnaturally bright versions of the less-spooky parent's- Dior's are gold, Elwing's are blue-green like a tropical sea (Elured and Elurin split the color between them- ultramarine and emerald), Elrond and Elros have pale star-gold, Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen all have silver.

(Daeron and Luthien being the exception again, because I decided they have Melian's eyes before I decided this, and I don't know what color eyes Thingol has. Watsonianly: Melian's spooky genes overwrite a lot. Luthien's genotype is probably much closer to his than her magically overwritten phenotype)

Their sclerae turn black and their pupils white, on occasion, usually when using powers

They don't bleed right. It's a little too red for an elf, a little too light for a human, and it shines strange as it beads like quicksilver on the skin

They have very shiny, cool skin. Luthien looked like her's was silver plate under a stretched stocking, the rest toned it down from there but it's still noticeable.

The Song is. Attached to them. They are all very much Main Characters. Their lives have a clear story arc with symbolism and narrative parallels. They are all subconsciously aware that their lives are a fairytale, whether tragic or no, and yes this has many Implications and affects. They are not the only ones like this, but they are the only ones who, to some level, know they are in a story.

This is the fundamental separation between them and everyone else.

The difference in how they perceive themselves between heart soul and spirit is very difficult to explain and understand, but not impossible to someone who knows them and is willing to put in the work.

The life-long knowledge that they are Important to the Song and their every choice and event they experience and their mere existence serves a greater purpose in a way that most other people simply do not- that's very, very isolating.

No one else can understand how they see the world. Very very few people are willing to try, and even fewer in a way that's not frustrating. There is a reason most of them find only one person to latch on to outside of their family, and a reason they hold on through hell and high water.

(This is about being neurodivergent)

[vaya-writes]

Not Quite A Life Debt - 1

A handful of f reader insert scenes with m demonic love interests. Fluff, hurt/comfort, and smutty shenanigans that lean kind of poly.

You (kind of unnecessarily) tried to save Ludwig's life. Out of pity, he lets you crash at his place for a few weeks after. It probably wouldn't be so bad, but he doesn't live alone. Reader stays with the triplets until she gets back on her feet. Smut, family shenanigans, and possibly even romance ensues.

Here's my next excuse to write about eldritch-spouse's triplets. This first chapter is a different style to my usual stuff. A succinct little retelling of the events that lead up to this story. The rest will be a bit smoother. 800 words.

Content warnings for this chapter include alcoholism mentioned in passing, risk of danger to reader, injury to reader (serious in real life, but here in fiction, depicted as mild), and brief hospital visit. Divider by firefly-graphics.

Masterlist - A03

The way you meet Ludwig is kind of stupid.

You’re living in some backwater town. Working (and living) in a hotel. It’s not a nice place. Bigoted. Incredibly. Let’s be honest, it’s a sundown town. And things are serious enough that when a clueless red demon has the gall to check in, you know things are going to go badly.

You didn’t realise how badly. Because somebody sets the hotel on fire. Yeah. It’s pretty extreme, but nobody was in serious danger. Except you. And this demon.

I mean, he wasn’t really in any danger, it’s just a bit of fire, but you don’t know that.

Long story short, you run back inside to help, when nobody else lifts a finger to put out the fire. Your town is quite rural, and there’s no local fire brigade. So, in your eyes, this demon is fucked. He’s trapped inside. Nobody cares if he lives or dies. Except you. You do the brave thing. The stupid thing. You run back into the building. Find his room. Have to break his damn door down with a fire axe.

All the while you’re standing in acrid smoke, hacking up a lung, and dizzy from smoke inhalation. Like I said, you were stupid.

He’s fine. Obviously.

He’s passed out drunk. You’d be mad, or at least exasperated, if you weren’t so panicked by the situation. You have to shake him awake. Slap him a few times, really.

Finally, he wakes. Takes stock of the situation. Looks at you like you’re crazy, or at least a little bit stupid (it’s deserved) and drags you outside.

He’s about to dump you by the gathering bystanders when you pull him back. Struggle to explain that, hey, this fire was an attempt on his life, he probably shouldn’t go towards the crowd.

Ludwig is a little bit brighter than you. Everyone saw you run back into the building. Everyone knows you tried to help him. You probably shouldn’t go towards the crowd either.

So, he sighs. Picks you up. And goes rift hopping.

You lose consciousness. When you wake you’re in an unfamiliar hospital. In an unfamiliar city. That big red demon sitting beside you is the only thing you do recognise.

You’re treated for smoke inhalation. There are x-rays. Oxygen masks. Even a few blood tests.

Speaking hurts. But it could have been worse. The smoke could have been more noxious. Your airways more fried. It could have been far, far worse. But it’s not.

And through it all, Ludwig stays by your side. He still treats you like you’re stupid, from time to time. Looks at you, shakes his head, and turns away with a huff. Amused or exasperated, you’re not quite sure.

When you ask why he’s still here, he looks at you with a raised brow. “You tried to save my life. And I’ve whisked you away from home. I should take you back when you’re done, at least.”

Then you have to explain to him that you have no home. That you’d lived in the hotel. That your possessions were surely toast. And that you had no friends or family there to rely on. Or anywhere really, but that’s neither here nor there.

Some other things happen. It’s mostly paperwork. Getting discharged is a bit of a shitshow. They’d disposed of your clothes, and you’re left with nothing more than a flimsy hospital gown and what had been in your pockets when you’d arrived. (Your phone. Your wallet. Thank fuck.) There’s a prescription or two you have to pick up as you leave.

The demon is silent through it all. Considering his options. Considering your options really. You don’t interrupt him. It’s not in your nature to ask for strangers for help. Not with anything so large anyway.

But he makes his decision. Grabs you by the wrist before you wander away from the hospital. Offers to help you, for reasons you can’t fathom.

And that’s the absurd story of how you met Ludwig. And how you subsequently ended up crashing on his couch for the next few weeks.

Next

[solving-calculus-together]

hai

…

GREETINGS! Giggle. :D

[monsterwhorre]

Finally forced art block to fuck off and got myself to draw santi's tired wrath minx about to lose her shit (still can't draw hot monster men)

another piece of fanart for @eldritch-spouse

[falling-electricxangel]

@eldritch-spouse

I have no explaination for the Krulu one. It just popped in my head and wouldn't leave haha.

And since I ran out of room yet again... Onto the next one! Got a few more questionable ideas... :P

[arcadewonder]

home of the local swamp witch.