Heyyyy guess who’s back with more qijiu

Binged Arcane, blacked out, and started sculpting a Silco bust. Wip!

✨Lemres headcanons because I’m feeling that kind of way today✨

-His mother figure is Ms. Accord. He considers her closer than anyone, and goes to her when he has issues or needs advice. She’s the only one who’s ever seen him cry.

-Lemres doesn’t actually have a house. Not because he can’t have one, but because he doesn’t want one. He usually camps out in the woods instead, or stays with Accord.

-On that note, he’s a wanderer. He loves visiting new places and never stays in the same spot for more than a few days. He’s very vulnerable to cabin fever.

-Lemres sometimes brings back trinkets or artifacts from his travels to show to the kids in primp. Sometimes he lets them keep some of them.

-Lemres is what I like to call a “Double A Battery”. He’s Aromantic and Agender (Though uses He/Him pronouns). However, he’s not on the acespec.

-Lemres is fluent in French, and likes the way the words sound. Sometimes he’ll say them to himself simply because they’re satisfying to him.

-He has ADHD, and taps his wand against his head as a stim.

-Lemres is 17, but uses magic to make himself look in his early twenties. This is because he graduated early, and doesn’t want to be singled out or deemed unapproachable by his college peers.

-Despite currently attending classes in the town across the desert, Lemres was mostly raised in Primp town after running off. Accord took him in.

-There’s no real reason that he has hair covering his eye, he just thinks the style looks nice on him.

-Lemres spends almost all the time he isn’t busy in Primp, not just because he spent his adolescence there, but because it’s the one place he feels genuinely safe to be himself. Being relatively famous, he usually has to keep up a certain appearance.

-His eyes are a nice shade of dandelion yellow, but he never opens them because they remind him of his mother’s eyes, which he has always associated with an emotional distance he’d never wish to show to anyone.

-Lemres used to be a very meek and reserved child. He started coming out of his shell in his mid-teen years and has never looked back.

Ghostface!Geto Suguru who one day calls to play with the mind of the neighbor across the street but ends up telling you exactly which places to touch and pinch as he watches through the window as his lovely neighbor ends up with her pussy dripping from a stranger’s voice.

@ivypond11 and I have been brainrotting over future Sashannarcy and we’re having a blast ✨

Here’s a tiny Sasharcy drabble! c:

Tw/cw: feelings of guilt, scars and Amphibia spoilers

***

“Honey, I’m home!” Sasha says, smirking playfully and kicking the door shut.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” Marcy replies, giggling and immediately burying down the thought that one day, she’d love those sweet nicknames to be something genuine, something more than just friendly banter.

“How’s that new chapter going?” Sasha asked, walking towards the kitchenette and throwing her gym bag to the ground.

Even in her plain crop top and leggings, with her hair slightly messy after the workout and a few blond strands framing her face, she looked absolutely stunning.

“Not gonna lie, I am a bit stuck,” Marcy sighed, tapping her stylus against the palm of her hand. “But maybe I just need a break. How did the boxing class go?”

“Uh, I may have punched a guy a bit too hard,” Sasha flinched slightly, pouring herself a glass of water.

And that’s when Marcy saw it.

Sasha’s back looked like it was split in half. The huge scar, almost perfectly aligned with her spine, was still very much there, peering from underneath the crop top and stretching down to her loins.

Marcy didn’t really know why it surprised her this much. She had a pair of scars like that of her own, after all. And she was the one who gave Sasha hers.

It was her fault.

“…but that’s kinda the point of the class, am I right?” Sasha’s voice and smile pulled Marcy out of her thoughts as the blonde turned around.

The look she saw on Marcy’s face was one she had known very well.

“Hey, everything alright?” Sasha asked calmly, walking towards the couch, where the black-haired woman was sitting.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry, I spaced out a bit,” Marcy looked to the side, scratching her forearm.

“What’s wrong?”

Marcy swallowed, still avoiding the blonde’s gaze.

“Hey, I’m a licensed therapist,” Sasha chuckled. “And your friend. You can talk to me, you know?”

Marcy looked at her, biting her lip, her eyes filled with apprehension.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, almost whispering, and seeing the puzzled look on Sasha’s face, she pointed weakly towards her own back. “The scar, I mean.”

“My back?” Sasha asked, raising her brows. “No, not at all. Well, maybe sometimes, after I strain myself a bit too much, but to be fair, I forget that scar even exists most days.”

Marcy nodded, fiddling with her stylus.

“That’s what made you so worried?” Sasha asked.

“I guess,” Marcy shrugged. “I’m sorry, Sasha.”

“What for?”

“Well, I did it. It’s my fault, that scar.”

“Hey,” Sasha said, taking the other woman’s trembling hands in her own. “Look at me.”

Marcy looked up hesitantly.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault at all, you weren’t the one who hurt me,” Sasha said slowly. “I don’t blame you for that. I know that you, the true you, would never hurt me.”

“But it was me-”

“It may have been your body, but it wasn’t you. It wasn’t your intention,” Sasha stroked Marcy’s arm. “It wasn’t your fault, Mars. Not at all. And I’m alright, so please, don’t beat yourself up over that. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Marcy sniffled, but nodded quickly.

“Besides,” Sasha’s hand went up towards Marcy’s chin, stroking it carefully. “We’re even. Sorry about your chin.”