#that Lud fucked up on their end

[blazingstar24]

What if the disaster that struck Pravenier is connected to the destruction of Molaesmyr?

Hear me out, both incidents happened several hundreds of years back. Though the exact timeframe of Pravenier is unknown. Pravenier was destroyed by a mass poisoning event and Molaesmyr was destroyed by poisonous fumes (miasma) which killed and corrupted anything it came in touch with.

In Chet’s vision, he got the sense that the poison came from something settling within the water supply of the entire area. The corruption in Molaesmyr came from beneath the city as the crystal was in the base of Caes Mosor.

Is it possible that where the Amethyst Gulch lies on the planes, it lines up with Molaesmyr in the Material Plane? And the poison that settle into the water was the miasma from Molaesmyr. Because when Ludinus tried to do the communion, it was during an apogee solstice. Which means the ley lines were screwy so he could try and reach Ruidus. But also on the flip side, ley lines aren’t just one way doors. They can spill into many different places.

Also the idea of needing to close a communion is something we see in many other sorts of summoning entities rituals. We know Ludinus makes it out of Molaesmyr somehow (despite all things considered as wouldn’t he have been at the very epicenter of the miasma?) Which implies he had to have bailed quickly to not get fucked up at the very least if not die. So what if the communion was left open? And the same poison that destroyed Molaesmyr spilled through to other places. Places like Pravenier, which seemed to have a similar temple to the Archheart. And the crystal that Ludinus used was theorized to have some kind of connection to them.

It certainly could be nothing but I just got strong Molaesmyr parallels from this place!

[keroinnie]

hmmm i dont remember the tortoise and the hare mv looking like this

[eldritch-spouse]

Ooo saw how you’d be happy to write some of the nastier little tidbits and thought I’d send a prompt or two on theme! No rush to answer them all, just if you like any and would elaborate or.. 👉👈

So I’m thinking of a reader asking a wrath demon for help because they’re scared or injured, and it somehow just ends up with the wrath demon shamefully (or not shamefully) wanking onto them. Your choice of demon 💕

TW: Noncon.

Oh this feels like a Ludwig thing right off the bat.

For a wrathful demon, he looks very approachable, very calm and content even. If you're in the middle of a dangerous situation, perhaps running from a group of assailants that have left you badly bruised and battered, bloody all over- Then Ludwig is the monster you're going to scurry to. A tall mid-ranker demon with a vaguely creepy smile.

Problem is, not only are you cute, you're stinking of fear and blood and pain, and that's a delicious concoction for a Wrath demon. It's their catnip.

You just so happen to catch Lud in a bit of a moral low-point.

Sure, he promises to help keep you safe, but he needs something to make up for his time and protection. The little doe eyes you make at him, so full of terror and hopelessness, are hot enough he feels his cock sickly jump to attention.

Don't worry, Ludwig's not some beast, he's not going to ruin you- Even if the thought of shoving you to the ground and using your own blood as lube to fuck you senseless is a very real temptation he's struggling with currently, even if he wants to break a few more parts of you and thrill himself to the sounds of your anguished screaming... No. No, he's not that evil.

Instead, Ludwig pushes your clothes aside, allowing his tongue to steal the delectable taste of your suffering. He moans as he digs into your wounds to open them just a bit further, his teeth clamping onto your jaw briefly before he grossly laps over the trail of blood seeping from your broken nose. If he wasn't already tenting his pants, he sure as fuck is now.

You cry in discomfort, misery and fear when you notice the bulge of his cock, expecting the worst of the worst, and Ludwig can't control the growl clawing out his throat when he pushes you to your bruised knees, hearing the keen of pain you let out. When he frees himself, you make this defeated, broken sound.

It's fine, he pants, already shamelessly curling a hand around his length, he's not going to fuck your face. It's already so ruined, he's sure you'd suffocate trying to breathe through that busted nose...

But he does let his cock drag against your complexion, not caring that you turn your cheek to him while he pants luridly and pumps his girth to the scene of you sobbing quietly. A sick little laugh bubbles out when he slaps his cockhead on your cheek in an impish taunt. You're too broken to care, wincing in disgust.

When Ludwig gets close, his spare hand grabs you by the chin, forcing you to look back at him and open your mouth for him. That grip is tight enough to make you moan in pain, and it only gets more agonizing the closer he is to orgasm, making you wonder if he'll break the bone.

Luckily, the demon snarls hard, and his claws dig into your cheeks, a different type of pain to distract you from the loads of hot cum now painting your face and hair. If humiliation could kill a person...

He has the nerve to thank you afterwards, a shitty grin on his face that makes you question why you thought a demon of his kind could help at all. He doesn't let you wipe his seed off your face.

You bought his protection, at least...

But a part of you kind of wishes you had just lied down and taken your beating instead of trying to find help.

[utilitycaster]

I think you've mentioned that you don't like making up nicknames for CR villains. What do you think of the cast starting to use Luda more?

Honestly don't mind it at all. It's kind of funny, it's a Ludacris joke which I appreciate, and this is an exploration into a list of my idiosyncratic annoyances that no one asked for but I'm way less bothered by spoken nicknames than typed ones. Like, I think I said earlier, I didn't mind Sam saying "robit" about FCG but it irritated me when it was typed out.

A lot of nicknames and other things that, for lack of a better way to put it, that end up annoying me tend to be like...casual signifiers that whatever writing is coming is just not very good, in my opinion? Like this is all very general, from limited experience, and by no means 100% accurate but like..."Luda" people are usually just thinking about 2000s rap, which is extremely valid. Luddy/Ludi and variants people tend to have very surface level opinions. Lud can be just lazy typing but this is also the preferred moniker among people who desperately want to fuck him (note: these judgements are based on text body; i get with tags sometimes you have to shorten things). "Robit" annoyed me because it tended to be overly cutesy and also result in surface level or overly angsty takes. I don't think I've ever seen anyone who calls Brennan Lee Mulligan "BLeeM" post anything original enough to bother reblogging. "Ickythong" and "Ikithot" tended to also be signifiers of really surface level opinions that didn't actually want to talk about Caleb as a complicated person but rather as some kind of sad little baby boy terrorized by shadowy evil. And so on. Like, I don't think it's causative at all, it's just a weird correlation that more often than not signifies "this block of text will say precisely nothing interesting." Which in turn means that cast can say whatever because they are usually the originators and also they're not writing meta.

[writingsbyzuzu]

the alchemy!

chapter two!

summary: you meet hasan, and quite frankly, you aren't that impressed

sorry this one is a bit short! trying to warm back up to this series

warnings: reader is a bit of a jerk to hasan but hasan is a meathead when drunk

“I think you’d look sexier in the black one,” Blaire calls out. Janet gives a resolute nod, the two of the sprawled out on her bed. “I’m not wearing the black one,” you respond, grabbing a different dress. “Scared of attention?” Blaire asks.

“More like scared of a frat guy puking on me and being in my vicinity,” you tease, as Blaire snatches the dress from your hand. “It’s a frat party. There’s going to be frat guys. Besides, you haven’t been out with someone since Zach,” Janet points out.

You stiffen at the mention of your brief ex. “Well, excuse me, not everyone has time for a great romance like you and Kieran,” you gesture at Janet, before turning to Blaire, “and…”.

There’s a pause as you forget Blaire’s boyfriend’s name.

“Ludwig. You better remember it when you meet him in an hour. Now, you might not have time for a boyfriend, but you have time to get piped down. Everyone does. No excuses. Zach was nothing but shit sex, and you deserve better than that, so get fucking dressed.” 

You roll your eyes at her statement, but get in the bathroom to change none the less.

An hour later the girls of your friend group are standing in the Gamma Pi house, a rager already ongoing. You see Blaire drag a blond guy towards you. "Lud, these are my girls. Janet, Lydia, Lucy, Birdie, and of course, my roomie."

"Nice to meet you," he shouts over the music, taking time weirdly enough to shake each of your hands. "So you're her roommate?" he asks you. You nod in response. "Let me get you a drink as an early 'sorry' gift."

You laugh, and Blaire swats Ludwig's arm. "I like this one," you gesture at Ludwig, looking at Blaire. "Self aware and is willing to give me free drinks? Keep him."

He laughs in response, heading to grab you a drink. "Girls, let's mingle, have some fun," Janet cheers out. The rest of the girls disperse, including Blaire and Janet who head to the dance floor.

Your phone buzzes.

ellis 🎸💙: you having fun ace?

you: not really

ellis 🎸💙: of course not. you would have had more fun with people with braincells

you: lmaoooo it would be more fun with you rn

ellis 🎸💙: ;) goodnight ace

You get pulled out of your conversation with a tap on your shoulder, and turn to see...woah.

A tall, muscular dude with dark curly hair who looks like he'd be ripped straight of a romance novel.

His eyes widen slightly at looking at you, before shaking his head slightly.

"Has anyone gotten you a drink?" he yells over the music. You nod, and he looks for something to say. "Can I get you one anyways?"

"No thanks." You give him a look. You would rather get one yourself, you only accepted one from Ludwig because you know Blaire would rip him into shreds if anything happened to you that he caused. Why would you accept one from this sexy stranger?

"Who are you here with? You don't look like anyone's girlfriend or sister or anyone," he asks, looking around. "You're too cute to be alone."

"1, I think you wouldn't be able to tell if I was either of those things. Genetics are weird, and for all you know, my date's in the bathroom."

He raises an eyebrow, and you can tell he's not convinced. "What's number 2?" You couldn't tell yet if you hated his voice or not, but his persistence on conversation was annoying you.

"I'm Ludwig's girlfriend's roommate."

"Oh the blonde girl!" You wrinkled your nose at that. Blaire was many things, a lovely roommate and friend, and to be reduced to just "that blonde girl" pissed you to no end. You definitely did not like Mr. Romance Frat Boy now.

"Yeah," you say, as Ludwig comes back with your drink. Thank fucking god, you were being put out of your misery. "I see you met my roommate," Ludwig cheerfully announces. Wait... what?

"This is Hasan, roommate and best friend. Hasan, this is my girlfriend's roommate."

You groan internally. This means a lot more interactions with this meathead. They keep chatting, but Hasan keeps looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

Blaire is dancing with Janet on the dance floor. She sees you, looking uncomfortable as hell talking to the guys, and gestures for you to come over.

"I see you met Hasan, what do you think?" she asks it in a tone you know all too well. You groan. "Not a chance in hell."

"We'll see about that," Blaire winks. "Now dance with us," Janet pleads. So you do.

The meathead never stops staring at you for the rest of the night.

After the party dies down, Blaire says goodbye to Ludwig on the Gamma Pi porch. You and Janet wait for her at the bottom of the steps, rolling your eyes at how corny they were being.

Kieran and Markus pull up in Kieran's car. Markus stares straight head, trying to not look at Blaire actively tongue wrestling Ludwig.

Kieran, seeing his best friend in anguish, honks his horn. Blaire finally separates from Ludwig with a disgusting pop, and bounds down the stairs. As the two of you walk down the path to the car, you hear the door behind you.

"I didn't get your actual name," Hasan calls out. The guys turn to look at Hasan, as Blaire and Janet open the rear doors of the car and clammer in.

You stand there for a second, before turning to look at him.

"That's because I didn't give it to you."

"Oh." He raises his eyebrows into that stupid expression again, before talking once more. "Okay then. See you around...tiny dancer."

You roll your eyes once more, getting into the car. When you get back to Murphy Hall, you and Blaire crash on your beds.

"What did you think of Hasan?"

"He's a meathead. I could not possibly ever be interested in a guy like that, no matter how hot he is."

"So you think he's hot?" She lifted her head to smirk at you.

"Goodnight, Blaire." You shut off the light.

Goddamn meathead.

[leprosycock]

I was thinking about papillon again…. What do you think of j with a feeding tube? Like his hearts gonna give out because he’s too starved but neither of them want him to eat and he doesn’t want to go to a hospital and lud doesn’t want to take him there either, but he’d rather have j alive than have him be 70 pounds but dead. so lud buys a feeding tube and bag and he intubates j at home….

I had a feeding tube for a few weeks, years ago, and I hated it but looking back, it’s great fetish material……. It HURTS when they’re putting it in, even with numbing spray, you can feel it going down whatever pipe goes from your nose to your stomach

it feels like you’re choking and it’s impossible to breathe without feeling it, really hard to sleep with it too

I just get such a sadistic hard-on thinking about j going through that, especially thinking about lud slowly pushing it into his nose and down into his stomach and j’s crying and begging him to stop and he’d rather die than go through with this

and then after the liquid nutrients start flowing down the tube, j tries to rip it out, partly because of the pain of the tube but mostly because when you’re anorexic, getting calories pushed down into your stomach without you being able to do anything? Nightmare

(it’s very hard to get a feeding tube out of yourself on your own, especially if you’re very weak due to anorexia, he would probably fail and just end up in worse pain ^-^)

anyway uhhhhhh I don’t know how you feel about this kinda medfet stuff, but your fic just sparked this idea and I needed to rant about it

this is the most wonderful autistic medfet shit i’ve ever seen and i mean that with the absolute most respect and adoration and reverence. i would fucking love to see him hooked up to a tube weakened and wracked with fatigue and pain and the ever present intrusion throughout his body… each breath is a struggle to feel human again and he feels more machine than man… he wants so badly to do as lud asks and to look clean and pretty and thin and pliable for him but he’s so scared that he’ll gain weight again and he’ll have no control over it and his struggling is for naught…….. god that’s so fucking awesome. thank you so so so much for sending me this i love medfet it gives me life. i’m like one of those kids that makes crayola marker drawings of sonic in a hospital bed. soooo so so so good i love u

[lovable-liar]

UPI ! schlatt being bested by UPI ! Reader, causing him to form a grudge that originally was love, on the reader, later on, targeting them as a target before realizing he never truly hated the reader, and instead hated Ludwig, causing UPI ! Schlatt to have the reader be his little accomplice in luds murder?

[THIS CONTAINS SOME DARK THEMES]: viewer discretion is advised.

When Schlatt got the call he'd been accepted to come and do work experience as an unpaid intern for a huge company, he was thrilled.

He was even more thrilled when he walked through the revolving doors to see...

You.

He'd never seen someone so...

Captivating. Truly captivating.

It was so early, he was an hour early, so you were a real sight for sore eyes.

After a short confirmation with the front desk, he came to sit in the waiting area.

He left a seat between the two of you.

You offered him a polite smile.

Damn.

That smile.

That adorable fucking smile.

"You- uh.. you here for the internship too?"

"Yeah! I- assume you are... too!"

You chuckled.

His heart pitter-pattered softly in his chest, like a little kid's feet on a wooden floor on their way to snuggle in with their parents after a bad dream.

You made him feel like a kid.

But you felt- looked like a good dream.

A dream come true, really.

"I'm Schlatt."

He offers you his hand to shake.

"Y/N, it's lovely to meet you, Schlatt."

"Lovely to meet you, too."

Lovely.

He got to know you quickly!

But. Not in a way he would've hoped.

Since you both had grabbed at the opportunity of an internship here, only one of you would walk away with an actual paying job.

Sure, he thought you were cute.

Sure, he liked the way you dressed.

Sure, he would hang out with you any chance he got.

Sure, he had your drink order memorized by the end of the week.

But all of that didn't mean he wasn't trying to get the job!

Right?

He thought he got the job.

He sidled up, nice and cozy, up to the boss, Ludwig.

But, you...

You actually did the work.

Safe to say, he didn't expect that.

He'd gone to MIT. He knew you didn't go to college or university.

Not to say you couldn't be good at what you do, but he assumed a degree from MIT would have gotten him further than, well...

He lay awake on the Thursday, bracing for the inevitable.

The both of you would get pulled into Ludwig's office, and he would pick whichever one of you he liked more.

Plain and simple.

Schlatt knew he didn't stand a chance.

It only took that tiny drip of ink...

to make the water in his glass...

go black...

He didn't sleep.

Instead, he sat in his kitchen cleaning his glock. Listening to the Black Eyed Peas.

He really didn't want to do this.

You'd have to go to waste.

And he didn't want that.

Truth be told, he wanted you.

Fucking hell, did he want you.

He wanted you over his desk.

He wanted you by the water fountain.

He even wanted you on Ludwig's squeaky office chair.

But, he also wanted you in other ways.

He wanted you to live with him.

He wanted you to cook for him.

He wanted you to have his kids.

He wanted to know what they might look like.

But, it wasn't meant to be.

He guesses, at least.

So when he walks through the revolving doors that day, they really do feel like just that.

The revolving door of people after people, wasting away their lives, all to do the same old desk job.

It no longer felt like meeting someone new, meeting the spark needed to light his candle, meeting the warm blanket needed to stay alive in blistering cold, meeting the smile, the eyes, the hair, the cheeks, the lips, the person, that made his heart pitter-patter.

He felt like a little kid again.

Stood, cowering, amongst adults.

The glock, tucked safely into the waistband of his trousers, made him feel... well... nothing, really.

He liked to stay emotionless when making decisions like these.

You weren't his first, oh no.

Oh, God, no.

Everything went according to plan that day, maybe even a little bit better.

A little bit off.

At lunch, you asked him to dinner.

He felt safe, sitting at his desk, rethinking his entire plan after that.

He felt safe because he knew he wasn't getting the job anyway, so why even try?

No.

No, he had to try.

He had to try for you.

He couldn't let you go to waste.

So, he put on a big boy face, and sidled up even closer to his boss for the remaining two hours of the shift.

First, coffee.

Not only had he memorized your drink order, but also Ludwig's.

Next, all of his assignments had to be done.

Then, he'd offer small, yet prize-winning compliments to the big boss.

"Love the suit, my man. And are those vintage leather shoes? Very nice."

"You do something new with your hair today, sir? No- no! I like it, I'm surprised you ain't beatin' people away with a stick!"

"New cologne? Yeah, I noticed. Smellin' rich, boss, smellin' rich."

But it still

Was not

Enough

And it didn't help how kind you were to him after he'd been rejected.

Now, he really wanted to wipe that adorable fucking smile off your face.

For fucking good.

You would never ever smile again.

Never.

Thick, glum smoke hung in the air, in his lungs, as he stuck out for you to emerge from the building and walk home.

Another thing he memorized about you.

He followed you, a couple paces behind.

Until you reached the alleyway of your apartment building.

"Shh, shh, shh.. quiet, quiet, toots. Yeah, 's alright! Just me, just Johnny. Yeah? Now, ya gonna take us up to your apartment, gonna look like we're together for the cameras, and ya not gonna try an' tell anyone. Do I make myself clear?"

His voice is so soft, so... gentlemanly.

You'd almost mistake it for genuine courting, if it weren't for the gun he was holding to your back while he pressed himself against you.

You, ever the obedient little worker bee, did exactly as he asked of you.

Even found it in yourself to crack a joke and smile in the elevator so security wouldn't think anything of you two when replaying the footage.

He'd been so gentle with you, aside from the gun, until you got into the apartment.

He broke you, completely.

Until he had you laying in your kitchen, bruised and slightly bloodied, ready to deliver the final blow.

The blow that would... kill you.

You spoke up.

"I REJECTED THE JOB! PLEASE- JUST... PLEASE?!"

"You- what?"

"F-Fuc- I.. rejected it..! I- I knew it wasn't gonna work for me the very first day... but... but I- I liked *you!* I stayed on.. for- for you!"

Then it clicked.

You weren't the one that had dirtied his water.

It was Ludwig.

From the start.

Ludwig always pit you two against each other.

And Schlatt was only losing because he was too preoccupied wondering to himself if you would hyphenate your last name, if you would take his, or if he would take yours.

You weren't the problem!

He felt like a kid again.

A kid that had done something wrong.

A kid that had done something bad.

An adult that had just done something violent.

He kept you locked in your apartment for a week after that.

Both, because he wanted to patch you up physically and mentally, but also because he was paranoid you might tell someone.

Who wouldn't?

But, it felt nice.

He found himself able to slip into the arms of domestic ambiguity.

He allowed himself to believe you really were his spouse, you really did have kids, and he really had it all.

But, his kids were perpetually "at school" and you were still hurt.

He took on many jobs around your apartment, but also around you.

Cooking for you, cleaning for you, bathing you.

The only thing that took him out of the fantasy was the sight of those bruises that had burst into bloom on your skin.

He would never do that to his spouse.

But, he would probably do it for his spouse.

So, when you began opening up about how Ludwig had treated you both,

he knew.

He knew what he had to do, and he knew you wanted to be there with him.

"Could be like Bonnie and Clyde, ya know?"

"I've never.. even hit someone before, let alone... have a hit on someone."

"Well, ya ain't gonna be alone, sweet cheeks. I believe in you."

"How do I know you won't just frame me..?"

He sighs.

"Because we're gonna get fuckin' married in a couple of years, and then come kids, and ya never gonna ask me that stupid fuckin' question again, ya hear?"

"Loud and clear.."

You chuckle.

His heart pitter-pattered softly in his chest.

"Maybe we become known as 'husband and wife' by the police, eh? That's a pretty neat niche!"

"Shut up, I'm only doing this once."

"Aww, so you're stickin' with me b'cuz you wanna! Not cuz ya gotta, how sweet."

[inhibitionfreewriting]

request again (if that’s okay?) i’m the noah kahan anon (and your fic was SO good im so excited for more) but butchered tongues by hozier as childhood friends to lovers with lud?

or first time (by hozier) with lud!!!!!

so while the second part to the original request is coming slowly but surely, once again i got into a zone and i just...

--

he was your best friend, who lived across the street and two houses down, who from the moment you met him always had you giggling. small bursts, full on fits of laughter, tiny snickers hidden by tiny clasped hands, trying not to wake the adults, trying to hide your secrets away from the world. but he's always there running around with you, scraped knees, dirt under your fingernails.

there's the time you almost drown in the nearby lake because you're both daring each other to go further out than you should and the mud beneath your foot slips and you're overtaken by water and panic. you're not the best swimmer and when you can't find your footing again, he calls for you, hoping it's just a joke.

he's there just out of reach for the first time and it solidifies just how important he is to you. he helps you up as soon as his little legs can cross the distance. you don't tell him that you think you have a crush on him, because you're only 11 and feelings are cringe and right now it doesn't matter. he's your best friend and you are his.

it's a few years later and you're walking home, crunching the autumn leaves under your feet, kicking pinecones in your path. he's talking about a girl a class you don't share and you can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces as he explains an over elaborate plan to ask her out on a date. in the end she says no and you're there with him for the heartbreak. you call her every name in the book at 14, explaining that she's the biggest loser in existence and anyone would be lucky to date him.

you wish it was you, to be the one cradling his heart and protecting it from the pain, but your friendship is number one and always above all else. he stays that night, too tired to walk back home. it's different, you think, staring at his back in your bed after having his heart broken, but your heart is broken too, isn't it? you stifle your crying to the best of your ability, roll over and force yourself to fall asleep.

he's thinking it too, staring at the pictures you have thumbtacked into your wall of you and he and the few other friends you both have made. there's a picture of you both with your arms around one another in red matching sweaters. he loves that picture even if he doesn't know it yet. it's his favorite. there's something in his chest that tells him to roll over, a paranoia that you're not okay but he mistakes the feeling as just more pain of rejection and doesn't move. it's the last sleepover that you both remember and on nights when you're drunk the memory still stings like a shot.

"ew - really? there's no way you actually like him." he embarrasses you, making a face at your admission of a crush on another classmate. you can't keep eye contact with him while you try to elaborate - he got you a carnation from the school on valentines day and it was sweet and you thought, maybe, just maybe it would be the way to get over the lump in your heart that he was. still, you keep that secret to yourself, going silent halfway through a sentence and curling in on yourself mentally. "look i'm - i'm just saying that derek on the soccer team is dumb as fuck and have - have you ever even had a conversation with him? he's probably just doing it out of pity."

"pity?" you snap, "oh, right, okay, because the only way i'd ever be able to get a date with anyone was out of pity." you stand up and knock the textbook and notes off of the desk in front of him before storming away. there's no way that he thought that low of you, but it's the ichor in your heart gumming up the gears. it hurts, it hurts so bad to think that- was he pitying you? all the time and years that you spent together? doing chores and spending allowances together, memorizing the others favorite ice creams and movies and video games and-

your mother holds you tight that night, stroking your hair as you cry into her chest, about how much you hate him. he's an asshole and he doesn't even like you clearly. she soothes you the best she can, but you're a few months shy of 17 and nothing stitches the wounds he's laid on your fragile heart. that doesn't come until much later in your story. you go to bed that night after clearing polaroid after polaroid off of your wall, throwing them into some school folder that previously lay abandoned in your room. you don't want to talk to him let alone see him before you go to sleep. the poorly sewed pillow from home economics he traded with you gets shoved into your closet.

he keeps it to himself when he gets home, telling his mother that he's tired and he just wants to get through his homework and go to sleep. he doesn't do his homework that night, too busy watching tv and the clock, ticking later and later into the night. his mother is worried but doesn't press, though she makes him eat that night even if he hates it.

not to be dramatic, but for a minute you feel like you forget what his voice sounds like, you haven't spoken in a week. stubbornness flows through both of you stronger than the harshest waters in a river, capsizing anyone who isn't certain of their path. he finds a new groove where he leaves for school 5 minutes off of you, whether it's before or after you can't determine but it's never the same time. a few kids at your lunch table take pity on you when you are eating alone for what feels like the billionth day in a row and you connect easily. as the loneliness gets pushed beneath the surface you wonder if he notices that you're not trying to catch his eyes as often.

he does, and he hates it, because he's trying to return the caught eyes even if he doesn't know it. but you're both foolish and angry over nothing. he passes 17 without you at his birthday party, the invite torn up and in a trash bag in a place where his mother won't find it. he lies when she asks, curious as to where you have been all this time, months and months at this point.

"i don't know," he shrugs, nonchalant to the best of his ability while he watches his friends play melee. he can't make an excuse before one of the guys sits up and scrunches his face in thought.

"didn't you throw her invite out because she's a freak?"

"woah - you can't call her that."

"you literally called her weird like 5 minutes ago!" ludwig's face turns red and sheepish as his mother gives him a look, disappointed and sad all in one. when she leaves, he sinks into his spot, covering his face. how embarrassing. "dude, she is a freak though, she's always by herself, it's fucking weird."

"she's not fucking weird!" he snaps, shoving him. nobody is allowed to call you weird except him, you are his weird friend. an argument breaks out and the party ends sooner than intended and his mother grounds him for fighting in the middle of the house. at least his birthday doesn't get worse outside of the sinking feeling in his chest.

you hesitate on a text saying happy birthday with the picture of the two of you in red sweaters attached. you remove the photo and the heart and send it, plain. it felt disingenuous - maybe he deserves it though, he didn't even invite you to hang out.

you 9:56pm: happy birthday

ludwig 10:27pm: thanks

you 10:30pm: do anything fun?

ludwig 10:36pm: party got cancelled cuz my friends are assholes

you don't think the laugh that comes out of your mouth is real, but his text gets the tiniest of noises from you.

you 10:37pm: all guys are assholes lol

he starts typing and then stops a few times. maybe that was too much and the regret swims through your veins immediately, you curl up into the poorly stitched pillow long rescued from your closet for comfort. the longer it takes, the more you sink, starting to type an excuse, 'i mean not you', but he responds faster than your shaky hands can type.

ludwig 10:50pm: you're right

ludwig 10:50pm: sorry i was an asshole

ludwig 10:51pm: ider what i said but i know it was stupid

of course he didn't.

you 10:52pm: derek would only go out with me bc of pity

ludwig winced in his bed, dropping his phone to his chest and smacking both his hands to his face. wow he was stupid, derek would have been lucky to go out with you. you were wonderful - fantastic even, you kept him up at night, his mind wandering to moments of you smiling and laughing with him, and then the way your face fell when he made that stupid pity comment. rolling onto his stomach he replied.

ludwig 10:59pm: wow 16 year old me was dumb huh

you 11:00pm: you've been 17 for less than 1 day 💀

you 11:00pm: you're so stupid

you 11:01pm: i h8 you

surely, you meant it in jest. you were talking to him, at least, hell this was the most you'd spoken in months so you absolutely had to be joking. he pulled a dramatic frown, took a picture and sent it to you before questioning the decision.

ludwig 11:03pm: [image attached]

you 11:03pm: can i be gay for a moment

ludwig 11:04pm: yes?

you 11:08pm: i missed your face a lot😞

you 11:08pm: i miss you a lot

you 11:08pm: can we hang out tomorrow

you 11:09pm: we can do w/e i dont care

you 11:09pm: we dont even have to do anything

you 11:09pm: can we just hang out

you 11:12pm: please

he missed you too, more than he would ever care to admit, eyes heavy with exhaustion and sadness as he stared at your near pleading.

ludwig 11:15pm: come over when you wake up

ludwig 11:15pm: im going to bed

ludwig 11:16pm: night

shoving his phone far under his pillow, he flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. you were mimicking the position in your own bed, your hands over your heart. how long had you been sitting on your infatuation? how many diary entries had you written about him? how many poorly drawn profiles littered the ripped pages of your notebooks? sleep took you both restlessly, carrying you along the rocky waters till daybreak where you wrestled yourself into shorts and a tshirt.

you couldn't bring yourself to care about how you looked or smelled (you couldn't quite remember when you showered last), you just wanted to give him a hug, the biggest hug you could muster. you missed him so so much. as you'd done hundreds of times before, you entered his home, locked the door behind you and all but ran up the stairs and towards his room.

badum badum badum

your heartbeat was loud and almost painful in your ears which caused you to stop and stare at your hand centimeters away from his door. you wanted to feign ignorance, that your broken heart was not beating like this for any reason, that it was silly and foolish and so very very stupid. chewing on the inside of your lips, you swung his door open. his body jumped a little, still under the covers and barely processing that you were already here.

"hey," came his groggy voice, the heel of his palm rubbing into his eyes as you nudged the door closed and kicked your shoes off. he propped himself up on his elbows and maybe it was the way you looked, slightly disheveled but jittery, or the fact that your breathing was a little choked and heavy, but he wanted to kiss you more than any other girl he'd ever seen. "why're you standing over there still?"

"i-i.. i don't know." he breathed out a tired laugh.

"so come here?" with the invitation you crossed the remaining space between you and flopped into the space next to him, on top of the covers. it takes him a minute but he lazily rolls over to face you. he smells of a late night shower and morning breath. he's warm with sleep and you're warm with the early morning sun.

"i have a crush on you," you blurt out, closing your eyes like you expect physical retaliation from someone who has never actually gone so far as to beat you up. when nothing comes you slowly open your eyes, peaking through the timid butterflies frantic in your stomach. the face he has on is awkward at best and you're trying not to read into what he may or may not be feeling. "s-s-sorry, that's. i shouldn't have-"

"no, me- me too!" he responds, stopping you in your frantic, panicked downfall, not wanting to hurt you again over a miscommunication that he was the cause of. he wraps his arms around you tightly and you let out a tiny breath of relief and returned his hug.

"i'm sorry you're so stupid," you snicker, burying your face deeper into him, still embarrassed. when you both finally pull back, your lips are pursed into a pout, and his mouth is open to say something snarky in return but nothing comes out. instead he kisses you the way he's wanted to kiss you for two years, since the first time he saw you wear a pink tinted lip gloss. you return with fervor and you kiss like that a thousand more times.

[sasaeng985]

Talking about my jrm scenarios part 1 cause i’m sick in the head and have intrusive thoughts

jlud and strma brothercest

j doing very bizarre things with his bros lud and ster. would be hilarious if lud had to explain to his friends why he kisses his brother j on the lips. ster and j getting caught in the act but as brothers *drools* …. they just love their bro jrma so much

creepy creepy predator teacher jrma

a cool teacher you’d talk with often cause he likes video games. maybe the popular girls will call him cute and use him in fuck marry kill. he’ll talk with you a lot outside of class. and then he acts very weird with you. super touchy and tries to talk to you like a friend. groper and predator vibes to the max. he’d steal your belongings when left unattended for sure. would take candid photos of you and do bad stuff with it.

roofiebait jrm

stupid college boy jrma attends a party (ends terribly) his drink was spiked and everyone took turns violating him! it was a fun time for everyone involved. his reaction to waking up naked and bruised and unidentified substances leaking out of his orifices in a house he doesn’t know whom it belongs to would be awesome. he would cry after waking up. he would never ever report it cause he’s too embarrassed. he never told a soul

sh/ed jrma

would get so self conscious when watching videos of himself. would only cut on his thighs or upper arm so he can still wear short sleeve shirts as to not make anyone suspicious. gets self conscious when people only compliment younger jrma. whenever he sees fanart and they give him a little chub he tears up. i would love to emotionally abuse him and make him cut deeper. is a pussy when he cuts. he groans when he cuts a bit too deep.

[ember-amber]

I am fucking done with ds2. All bosses done, including the worst one in the series.

Lud and Zallen are truly the worst we ever got out of From. With Elden Ring, shit bosses were way more forgivable, because there was no run back like frigid outskirts, and because the are easily acessible spirit ashes, that don't raise the health. This is just 2 copies of a previous, already mid, boss, at the end of the most horrid runback in the whole series. It's so ass, and people paid for this extra content in their game.

Okay I'm done with that. If i were to form an opinion after doing this, it is that Dark Souls 2 is a very ambitious game trying many interesting things at once, and ends up fumbling a lot of them due to lack of time. Everyone has said that already.

My addition is that this game fell for the souls hype. It desperately wants to be as difficult as what ds1 was, but it does it without any grace. Just shove as many enemies as possible in one room, just make the player completely blind for 90% of the time, our hardcore fans wil love it. Keep saying how they are gonna die again and again at the start, and make an achievement called "This is Dark Souls" when they die.

Really feels like its trying too hard

[blazingstar24]

what are your ludinus theories going into downfall and the convo with lud after?

Hey Van, hope your week has been good!

Going into Downfall, my Ludinus theories branch into two potential pathways. Now you know I’m a Aeorian Ludinus truther, but I will say the timeline as we have more clues would put Lud being a child during Calamity, like baby elf. Which doesn’t rule out Aeorian but it does spin a way different tale than if he was at least around young adult elf or like Essek’s age during the Calamity!

Because it does seem like if he is Aeorian, he never got the chance to actually be in touch with such roots. Like there is a both a knowledge about the Age of Arcanum about him and yet also an air of excitement at new discovery. Which leads to my current theory that, yes Ludinus is Aeorian but perhaps never lived there for more than his childhood. Something he cannot remember, a place mayhaps his family had moved from due to the war or was not on when it fell. And his obsession with Aeor and his whole thing about wanting to go back to the Age of Arcanum is in relation to being from a place that he cannot go back to. A place that is rooted in history and all he has to connect himself to it with is just that. History. And history has not looked fondly on Aeor.

The other pathway is he’s not Aeorian, which is also interesting in its own way. Though my theory on that ends at that. (For now. I’m still ruminating on this idea and how he would be a dark mirror to Nydas actually in that he would be someone who also looked to those flying cities in awe and want, yet never had that experience of “yeah shit can get bad because I fucked around and found out” to ground him)

As for the aftermath, well that imo depends on what we see and how the BH respond. While I do believe Matt let Brennan tell what story he wished to tell, I do doubt that he would build up to this moment only to give the most easy answer of “lol Ludinus was wrong and the Gods r actually great!” Downfall is going to challenge the views upon Exandrian history and lore as we knew them. Not just for us the viewers but the players and in world characters. No easy answers. C3 really is hammering home that defeating the BBEG isn’t the end all, that the future of the world is in their hands to guide now. And a sword in Ludinus’s back will not magically solve everything. Matt is presenting us with this info for a reason beyond Ludinus’ own goals.

My personal hope is the convo after gives us Ludinus’s full backstory. I personally doubt the BH can sway Lud to stop, though I think they could get him to realize how out of touch he is with the people he thinks he’s saving. What kills me is that I think if FCG were still here, there would have been such an interesting dynamic there, if Lud is Aeorian and being confronted with another Aeor survivor who has placed faith in the Gods. An Aeorian who truly represented the ideas of renewal and hope Ludinus thinks he does. But I do think Chet/Travis said it best, that Ludinus and Liliana clearly have some piece of the puzzle that we are all missing. And it would benefit the group to learn what it is to get the full scope of what they are facing.

[secret-waleseng-stash]

Arthur arranging a little stress relief retreat for Ludwig at his cottage. What does that entail? Just Arthur, Dylan and Allie using Lud as their personal fuck pet. Which is actually a great stress relief for Ludwig.

Overstimulation drops him into sub space so fast and with the brothers passing him around as if he's just a toy, he's getting a lot of stimulation. So his brain just switches off without much effort.

And though all of them are rough to some extent (which Ludwig loves mind you), there are also the tender moments he needs too. In between their hardcore sessions, where Ludwig is wrapped up in a soft wool blanket that smells like a mixture of all three of them. Two of them, usually Alastair and Arthur, taking him into their arms while Dylan goes to grab snacks and water to help Ludwig come down and replenish energy. Praises whispered in his ear of how good he was, how special he is to them.

Also, during the periods where Ludwig is worn out but Art, Dylan and Allie still have some energy they turn to each other and give Ludwig a show. Sometimes it's just lazy make-out sessions, sometimes it's full on fucking.

Anyway, by the end of the weekend Lud is feeling refreshed. Though he's really sore, can barely walk. So the brothers convince him to turn this trip into a week long one so they can pamper him while his body heals. And Ludwig figures, why not. It would be nice to cared for.

[eldritch-spouse]

https://youtu.be/6B80dkQ8IjU

How would Rei, Ludwig, Fank-E, and Patches react if I built that and asked them to ride it??

(I'd also ask Kalymir, but I think he'd find it boring)

[I'm laughing so fucking hard, I need that clip of him spinning as a gif.]

For Rei, this is just like another Monday. He's done this type of thing before, which is why he immediately cheers like a fucking animal and hops on that chair. He's not wearing half the protective gear necessary, and by the time it stops, his tongue is out, he's heaving, asking for another round and looking like he just came. Lords, he loves you so much.

Ludwig knows he's going to regret it big time but he does it anyway. You can't just show that to him and expect Lud to control himself. He ends up screaming and needing several minutes to recover, but he's very happy and full of adrenaline- You've given him the zoomies, congratulations.

Fank-e is ready to become a milkshake. You don't need to be as careful with him as you would be with an organic lifeform, so really, you can make it go faster or longer, the robot will squeal at a volume loud enough to deafen you as he blasts shitty speedcore. When it's over he just gets back up and claps like it was nothing. Fear him.

Patches is not sitting in that fucking thing. Nuh-huh. He's a masochist, but not like this. You'll have to drag him into it kicking and screaming. You know who will though? Stitches. This fucker will get in there like a fucking cowboy. It's all fun and games until his head flies off and splatters everywhere until the room looks like a crime scene.

Kalymir may not fit in that chair, but he's subjecting him imps to it one by one before running out to get the prisoners and make them play test a more dangerous version of the same chair. Kaly loves you to pieces, this is the most ridiculous bullshit he's ever seen, you're a fucking riot, he's going to eat you out.

[spicykat9]

I’m so sorry for only sharing trans germany and not trans england so I’ll go for some more ambiguous content this time

germany trading sexual favors for work

“if you cum on my face i’ll brainstorm with you, if you fuck my throat i’ll outline a proposal”

“what if i fuck you”

“if you make me come i’ll write your whole damn script”

so far no one apart from england has succeeded

-🐱

You're good. We all have different headcanons, and I'm not too picky when it comes to discussing headcanons with others.

Love the idea of Ludwig basically using sex to get people to do their damn work. Reminds me of another post I made in a similar vein except instead of work it's "stress relief." Basically Lud becomes the meetings fuck pet for a day so they can blow off steam. It does end up engaging some nations at least.

Don't know if you like omegaverse, but this also reminds me though it's a very loose connection, of the omeagverse nationverse au I had where Lud is a late blooming omega and they have a meeting right before one of his heats and so a lot of nations have their full attention on him because of the slight phermones he gives off during preheat. Not enough to give the alphas an uncontrollable desire to fuck, but enough to make them want to keep their attention on Lud.

[aimwigs]

begging for you to write dad ludwig. the brainrot is real.

he would be such a. good girl scout leader

fine have some girl scout leader lud for the soul... i may not have a cohesive narrative for dadwig but im happy to provide little snippets

Really, the reason that Ludwig took on the role of troop leader was because nobody else wanted to do it. The old leader moved to Vegas, along with her daughter, leaving the troop in a state of uncertainty. If nobody stepped in, the troop would have to disband and Ryan would either have to find a new troop or brave it solo as a Juliette according to what QT said when she dropped off the girls at his place a few days before the school year started. Apparently, she meticulously researched both of these options but she wasn’t sure that Ryan would even want to be in Girl Scouts if she wasn’t doing it with her friends from school.

So he decides to step in. There’s nothing in the rules that says a dad can’t be a Girl Scout leader and if it means his daughter gets to continue to do this thing she loves with her friends, he’s not going to let her lose that. He’s not all that busy these days anyway— what’s the point of free time if he can’t spend it with his kids?

So that’s how he finds himself a few months later, in charge of more than a dozen eight-year-old girls on a camping trip. They’re in a cabin, at least. As much as he intends to give these girls an actual scouting experience— something he feels like the previous leader failed to do— he needs two more years and a few more chaperones before he’s ready to teach them how to pitch tents and start their own fires.

They get to the cabin in the evening and he gives the girls some time to put their stuff down and set up their sleeping bags for later before taking them out on a hike. It’s a short hike in theory— just a two-mile loop— but when you’re hiking with easily distracted kids, it always ends up a lot longer. He has to stop the same girl from eating berries off random plants like five fucking times.

The first time he squats down to her level and carefully explains, “We don’t eat things when we don’t know what they are. It could make us very sick.”

By the end of the hike, he’s just absently snatching the berries out of her hands before she can shove them in her mouth. He gave them all granola bars and as much as he understands the raw human urge to forage for your own food where you can, he doesn’t think getting poisoned on your first overnight camping trip would be a great scouting experience.

There’s a creek that runs through the canyon they’re hiking in, and he gives the girls fifteen minutes or so to splash around in the shallow water, expressions of pure glee on their faces as they look for frogs and skip stones together.

“Dad!” Ryan runs over to him and very seriously hands him a rock, light gray with a small curvy brown line running through the center of it and smooth from the rush of the water. “I don’t want to lose it.”

As much as he would love to just hold the rock for her, they all had a conversation about this before they left and he’s not prepared for the domino effect of all the girls shoving everything they find out here into their pockets.

“Take only memories and leave only footprints, remember?” he says, holding it back out to her.

She frowns. “I want to give it to Lucy so she’s not sad that she didn’t get to come.”

Fuck, the thought of the delight on his younger daughter’s face as her sister hands her a rock that she found special for her is enough to make him shove the rock in his pocket before anyone else can see it. “You can’t tell anyone else I let you keep this, okay?”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Dad!” she tells him, running off to splash around in the creek again.

Maybe he just got scammed into breaking his own damn rules but the thing about having kids is that they can scam you every time and you’ll never really mind it.

By the time they get back from the hike, it’s time for dinner. He starts the fire on his own, tactfully, with a lighter because he doesn’t fucking remember how to light a fire without one— he’ll learn when it’s time to teach them— and has the girls go find sticks to roast hot dogs with, telling them to stay near the camp.

They have their dinner and sing songs that Ryan and a few of the other girls learned at camp last summer and then move on to making s’mores. He tells them a story that he found online about how s’mores were invented by a Girl Scout and they all watch on with wide, excited eyes.

While he’s cleaning up, the girls tell scary stories around the fire. It’s nothing particularly terrifying, except for something that the tiniest girl in the troop cooks up in her dark twisted mind about evil clowns riding bears that somehow comes off as less insane when she says it— seriously, that girl is going to be a screenwriter someday— and then he teaches them how to properly put out a fire before they all head in to go to bed.

Half the girls knock out straight away— the hike must have seriously taken it out of them— and the other half drag their sleeping bags together and quietly whisper and giggle as if this were just a normal sleepover. Truth be told, he doesn’t care if they stay up talking all night since their parents are coming to get them in the morning anyway and they’re being quiet enough that he can sleep.

So he closes his eyes and tries to get some shut-eye before he’s inevitably woken up when somebody decides they need a snack or can’t find the bathroom.

It’s about thirty seconds before somebody drops a sleeping bag next to him and cuddles into his side.

He cracks an eye open to see Ryan lying there in her giraffe pajamas, curling into him a little.

“You okay, kiddo?” he asks, rubbing circles on her back.

“I’m thinking about the clowns,” she whispers with a frown.

He hugs her a bit closer. “You know that I’ll fight any clowns that try to get you.”

“They were riding bears, Dad.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ll fight the bears too.”

Ryan lets out a little giggle. “You can’t fight a bear.”

Ludwig very dramatically lifts his other arm into her field of view. “You see these guns, I could fight a bear for you any day.”

She rolls her eyes. “Only Uncle Slime can fight bears.”

How the fuck did she come to that conclusion?

“There are no clowns on bears coming here. I promise,” he tells her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I wouldn’t take you girls somewhere where you’d be at risk of a clown attack, much less clowns with the ability to ride bears.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Let’s get some sleep now, okay? You can stay here with me if you want.”

She nods softly and stays cuddled up into his side. His heart soars a little— she’s in a room full of her friends and she still wants to hang out with her dad. He wonders how much longer she’ll be little enough for this.

He savors the moment for a minute and then falls asleep too. As it turns out, camping trips are fucking exhausting when you’re managing a troop full of third graders.

[leprosycock]

checking my notes. looking over what i have for this stream, stacking them together, nodding in my big news anchor suit and gigantic shoulder pads. sea said this was juiced pt. 2, similar to how i equated house flipper to the replacement stream. and i totally agree!!

every piece of jrma and Iudwig's relationship is told through smoke and mirrors, productions, lights, cameras, and costumes, both in front of and behind a screen. and we get to see little pieces of them in between them playing their roles, or at least what they imagine their roles to be. they definitely both seem to lose the plot at some point when they get too entangled in what the other must be thinking and how they, themselves, are perceived. or they just get too entangled in the presence of each other. and they're not voyeuristic about it either, they just don't/can't care who sees because they are each other's stage. they both create the rooms the other performs in.

feels really good to simultaneously return to a dynamic that we've been familiar with over the past year or so and see new glimpses of things that have changed. jrma is comfortable with Iudwig to the point where he can poke and prod at him, tell him to go fuck himself, tell him he sucks, he hates him, because jrma isn't so fucking terrified of him anymore. he doesn't need to shower lud with endless praise because they already both know how deeply jrma cares. they banter right from the beginning, even when the audience isn't quite supposed to be aware of who or what 985bot is, because they can't physically stop playing and batting kitten paws at each other.

even when they're supposed to be playing up that 985bot is, in fact, a computer and not a real guy, jeremy is not in there, lud can't help himself. and i think that thrill of false anonymity really excites him. "hold you down and kiss you", "how's that taste, fucker?", "i love this guy! i fucking love this guy!", acting out and flirting and calling him 'baby', just because he knows that he can. the entirety of this stream is them sticking their tongues out at each other and teasing each other like crazy just to see who'll crack first, if either of them will.

they actually both just crack when they see each other face to face again, when lud is drunk and jrma is so unbelievably, egotistically delighted to be seen on screen again ("i love chat" yeah i bet you do, freak), but also by lud. the little head pat that jrma gives lud, gentle and birdlike, very careful touches that barely last a second because he is dying to touch him and lud is dying to be touched. his voice gets sweeter and softer and kinder and he beams like he's in heaven when jrma puts the medal over his head. despite lud's penchant for 4d chess, he can't keep playing every single second of his life. he's just so happy to be adored. jrma is happy to adore.

the last time they were both this happy together on screen was almost a year ago, during the chessboxing stream, when they were one whole and united unit. lud didn't have to compete for jrma's attention this time and jrma didn't have to spend the whole stream worrying that lud didn't care about him. this stream was very clearly a big collaborative creative effort between the two of them, given jrma's theatrics and weird twist ending and the exact kind of fast-paced, low-stakes, casual, friendly tournament gaming that lud loves to organize and play, so we can only assume that offbrand is doing well. they seem to be closer than ever and it's heartwarming and it's thrilling and i couldn't be happier. i love my boys!!!! more than anything, i love my boys. i love my boys so much and so passionately and so tenderly and i'm so glad we've gotten them back. we are back in a big and enormous and fulfilling way