Let’s see how many of us there are!
Gamzee x Standoffish!Reader
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Life wasn’t always kind, it didn't wait for people to catch their breaths, it didn't let you get used to what it threw at you, and it certainly never slowed down. Life had taught you the best thing to do was to meet it halfway and keep trudging. You had built a calloused exterior over time to deal with it. The sort of exterior that pushed people away because you couldn’t bring yourself to accept a hand held out in your direction. There was always some clause, some string, attached and you’d be damned before you fell for it. So for all of life’s pitfalls you’d hardened yourself against the potential. It worked as long as you didn’t count all the people you never meant to rub wrong- which you rarely did. If people were meant to be in your life they'd chip away at the walls you'd been steadfast in reinforcing, though you could admit to yourself you often made it far harder for people than you meant to. A small sacrifice for protection against getting hurt again.
Or so you had told yourself.
You’d been happy to be a prickly douche to whoever so much as looked at you for too long, snapping and glaring at every little thing life threw at you, and then you'd met Gamzee. The most spaced out, laid back motherfucker you had ever seen. Nothing fazed the troll. No barbed comment, no sneered look, no potential fight. It was as if he lived in a perpetual bubble of chill and good peace. After awhile it seemed almost cruel on your end to be mean to him at all. You’d been looking for a roommate to share your apartment with- rent was getting tighter each day and you knew it was only a matter of time before a check finally bounced- and Gamzee had simply made himself right at home.
You had wanted an Alternian roommate specifically to guarantee they’d mind their business so you could mind yours. Too bad Gamzee never got that memo. Or maybe he had and simply ignored it. Just like he’d ignored your attempts to make him leave you alone and stop letting himself into your room to “hang” or sprawling along the couch to be in your personal bubble. No matter how many times you snapped and snarled and attempted to get him to do as everyone else did and fuck off he had remained. In fact the more you tried to scare him off the more he seemed to make himself right at home. It completely baffled you at first as to why you couldn't make him leave and then slowly you had begun to accept it.
Begrudgingly and with the same level of discomfort as someone having their teeth pulled.
That seemed to be all Gamzee needed to get truly comfortable. The minute you had begun to see Gamzee as a friend and start to open up to the clown he’d dug his claws in with all the glee of a child refusing to let go of a beloved toy. He invited you everywhere with him, sometimes not even waiting for an answer. You had thought it the desperate actions of a quadrantless troll- until he finally introduced you to his “palest of diamonds”. Karkat was like looking in a fucked up funhouse mirror. The two of you snapping at each other and pushing away in all the similar ways. It was no wonder Gamzee had seemed so comfortable with you. He had a type! And apparently you fit the bill. It had taken much longer for you and Karkat to get acquainted than it had with Gamzee but when you did it was clear the clown had used the same tactics he was using on you now to get Karkat as his moirail.
A complete and utter disregard for your stubborn and standoffish nature.
Though according to Karkat your long term roommate had a dark side, one you hadn’t seen and was hard to believe, but sometimes you thought you caught glimpses of it when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Calculating lucidity that would flicker in his otherwise stoned and glazed over eyes. It was easy to dismiss.
But today you were reconsidering that dismissal.
It had started out all the same. You’d had the day off work and had taken to lounging on the couch with your phone using the TV as background noise. Whatever conversation you had started out having with one of your few friends had devolved into archaic memes and had long abandoned coherence a good fifteen minutes or so ago. Gamzee would be home soon, you had memorized his schedule out of necessity from the times he’d wandered into the bathroom to grab some of his things while you had been showering. The mortification had been brutal and your landlord had banned changing the locks in the apartment for reasons lost to you. So the bathroom lock remained broken and you had memorized Gamzee’s schedule as a consequence. Since then there had been no mortifying bathroom mishaps. Not that Gamzee had seemed bothered at any point, he hadn’t been creepy about it either, just grabbing his things as if you weren’t there at all. You weren’t sure whether to be grateful or concerned but had settled uneasily on grateful. Today was no different than any other when he got back. Humming and chuckling to himself as he shed off his jacket and left it on the floor when he came in- another losing battle with him- before wandering into the kitchen without a care in the world. It was as if he hadn’t even realized you were home as he rooted around in the fridge for what you assumed was faygo. The two of you would have to go grocery shopping sometime soon, food and drinks were getting low again. You could hear him shut the fridge with his hip and the soft hiss of carbonation as he unscrewed the lid on his soda and wandered into the living room where you were still curled up on the couch. For a moment neither of you said anything and then you could feel as his eyes slid to and over you. Again that rare lucid clarity came to his eyes in a brief flash before it was replaced by the ever present glaze as he smiled wide to see you.
“Hey buddy! You all up and got the day off?”
“Yeah. Figured I’d just relax.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” He was still smiling that crooked smile as he hooked one long leg over the top of the couch and began climbing over it. You watched mildly unbothered by whatever strange fancy had struck him now as you continued sharing memes on your phone with your friend. Unfortunately that was all the acceptance Gamzee needed to plop onto the couch and then flop directly on top of you.
“Gamzee what are you doing?” You asked calmly. Maybe a little bit tiredly knowing from the start that it was a losing battle.
“I’m just gettin’ my cuddle on.” He replied cheerful as ever. One arm snaked underneath your back to wrap around you as he began slowly inching his way up your body to rest his head on your chest. He’d had the fortunate thought to tilt his head so you wouldn’t be gored by his long goat-like horns. But it didn’t stop him from snuggling himself closer. Sighing heavily you set your phone aside and wrapped an arm around his neck.
“Didn’t we have a talk about this yesterday?”
“I dunno. Did we? I just wanna get my motherfuckin’ cuddles on. Feelin’ all sorts a clingy lately.”
“What do you mean?” You asked curiously but Gamzee’s mind was clearly already drifting away as he snuggled into your hold. One of his hands dangled off the couch with the bottle of faygo and you hoped he wouldn’t drop it. It took forever to clean up and you’d just cleaned the rug not even three days ago. For a while the two of you just laid there, Gamzee’s ear twitching as he listened to your heartbeat. His clawed fingertips on the arm wrapped around you tapped what you figured must be the beat of your heart on your side. You were half asleep underneath him, the chilled weight of his body helping calm you, when he finally shifted. You glanced down at him and found his chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you. Again that lucidity had returned to his eyes as he watched you.
And then the unthinkable happened. The thing that turned your thoughts on the clown upside down.
He slid in closer and before you realized what he was doing he had pressed his lips to yours. The first thing you registered was that they were cold, the second thing had been the slick slide of the greasepaint he wore as his mouth moved against yours, and the third was the way he was still staring at you. His eyes were still open, still watching, as he pressed his mouth to yours insistently. Your sound of confused surprise was muffled as he shifted his head just so and his tongue licked across the meat of your bottom lip. Eyes wide and shocked you tensed and he nipped lightly at your mouth before pulling away a more smug smile on his face.
“You taste like popsicles.” He told you voice pitched strangely. Swallowing nervously you struggled to find words to even say to him.
“Gamzee?”
“Hm?”
“What the hell was that for?” You hated how meek you sounded but the shock had been too great. He’d never even given you an inclination he saw you as anything more than a good friend.
“A motherfucker can’t just all up and kiss his matesprit?” He asked, clearly confused.
“Your what?”
His eyes suddenly went as wide as yours, a startling look on his face as he seemed to struggle to keep them open most of the time.
“Oh shit.” He breathed, “I forgot to ask you.”
Heart trying to escape out of your throat you sat up in your bed breathing hard. For a moment you could still hear the sounds of the alarms on your little rocket ship blaring in alert as you crashed into Alternia’s surface. But as you began to wake more you realized you were safe- Alternia long behind you. Trembling from adrenaline you shakily threw off your blankets and slipped out of bed. Your legs felt weak, fawn-like as you wandered out of Marvus’ guest room. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what had triggered the nightmare. It had been years since that night, you weren’t even on Alternia anymore. Trying to calm yourself you stumbled into the kitchen and took a seat at the island. It was nothing. Nothing at all. You had experienced much worse than the shuttle crash since then and came out on the other side. Out of all the nightmares you had had since then it baffled and frustrated you that the crash was the most frequent of all. Behind you was the shuffle of feet and you nearly jumped out of your skin as you turned to find Marvus shuffling into the kitchen.
“Hey lil buddy was up?” He asked tiredly, voice gravelly from sleep. Guilt over waking him nearly choked you.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” You spoke softly.
“Nah, don’ worry bout it. What’s wrong? Y’look like you seen some shit.”
“It was just an old nightmare. Nothing I can’t handle.”
That just made Marvus frown as he came to sit beside you, dragging his stool close enough your knees brushed.
“Wanna talk bout it?”
“Not… Not really.”
Marvus sighed, reaching out to lay his hand on your leg in a soothing gesture. His thumb rubbed at the exposed skin, his cold hands remarkably grounding as you fought down the shivers of phantom panic.
“I know I ain’t yo diamond or nothin’ but you do be knowin’ I still care bout you right?”
“Of course.”
“But you still don’ wanna talk bout it.”
“Its an old nightmare Marvus, comes back up every once in awhile. But its over now. That’s what matters.”
“Still hurtin’ you somethin’ fierce though.”
“Marvus.” You sighed. He glanced away with a clear scowl before shaking his head.
“I don’ like seein’ you this worked up. ‘Specially when there ain’t a damn thing to do bout it.”
“I know. I’m sorry for waking you.”
“Don’t.” He spoke voice surprisingly firm, you glanced up at him to find him staring at you intently, almost angrily, “Don’t apologize. I don like the thought of you jus’ hidin’ away til your thinkpan’s on straight. Ain’t right.”
“People have nightmares all the time.”
“Yeah? Well you ain’t jus’ people to me.”
You could feel the tears burning at your eyes, the stress of your nightmare rearing its ugly head. For a brief moment it was as if the deafening screech of metal was all around you again. Taking a deep breath you placed your hand on top of his.
“Thanks Marvus.”
His other hand came up to carefully wipe the tears from your eyes. Movements gentle as his thumb caressed your cheek.
“What can I do?” He asked after a moment when the tears just kept coming.
“I don’t…” More tears welled in your eyes blurring his face, “I don’t know.”
What a terrifying thought. The realization you didn’t know what would make you feel better at all. His hand brushed across your cheek again, then past it until he was carefully cupping the back of your head. He tilted you forwards as he leaned down until your foreheads were touching.
“That’s okay. Lemme jus’ take care of ya.” He spoke, voice soft. He tilted away from you to place a kiss to your scalp. “Don’ worry bout nothin’.”
A shuddering breath left you as he deftly moved to lift you into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck you buried your head in his shoulder. Tears were burning at your eyes, trailing down your cheeks more insistent than before as you wrapped your legs around his legs.
“I’ve got you. Ain’t nothin’ gon’ get you tonight, babe.” Claws rubbing soothingly up and down your back you allowed yourself to cry openly. Sobbing without restraint into his shoulder as he carried you back to bed. He wouldn’t shush you, the comfort he offered was different than what Polypa offered as your moirail. But it was more than you expected to receive and genuine. So very genuine. You knew he’d cleave the world in two if you asked and it terrified you as much as it soothed you.
But tonight you could admit that it was what you needed. To know you were safe, to know you were loved, it was enough.
TW: This is a caliginous relationship. If you only know friendsim then a basic warning is that a caliginous relationship is a relationship based on rivalry and categorized in alternian culture by ‘hate’ or ‘black romance’. Choking, strangulation (nonsexual), physical violence, hate sex, biting, blood, spitting, this plays out almost like non-con but it is an established relationship and both of you know what you’re doing, no safewords, implied aftercare but none is actually shown. This is 18+.
“You know what Lanque?” You seethed as you continued marching further away from the party, “Why don’t you go fuck yourself?” Whatever mix of booze and red had been in the punch bowl was rapidly staining your shirt and causing it to stick grossly to your skin in a way that Lanque knew made your skin crawl.
Lanque’s cold laughter was clearly rehearsed, the glint and expression practiced and poised. The fact he wasn’t as off his game or upset as you only made you angrier. He’d ruined your favorite top. One of the few articles of clothing you actually still had from earth. Destroyed because he had thrown his fucking punch on you. The fact you were clearly playing right into his hands was only fuel to the fire of your rapidly blooming hatred.
“What’s the matter?” He sneered almost sweetly, “It was just an accident.”
“Bullshit!” You snapped as you attempted to wring the worst of it out.
“Really, you’re ridiculous. All this over an ugly shirt?”
“An ugly shirt? An ugly shirt?!” Your voice was raising and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Heat was spreading from your chest all the way to your face as that rage kept growing. It had been an awful week and this was the final tipping point for you. You’d nearly died- twice- the other day. All for trying to help some of your ‘friends’ out and now Lanque was going out of his way to make it even worse.
“What’s the matter?” He asked in that same sickly arsenic tone, “Purrbeast got your tongue?”
“You son of a bitch.” You finally snapped, voice even and deadly. Tackling Lanque to the ground you swore bloody murder at him as you tried to choke him out. Hands wrapped tight enough around his neck, your nails were digging straight into his pallid grey flesh. He squinted up at you, blackened lips pulled into a snarling grin as he coughed. Removing one hand from his neck while using the other to keep him pinned, you pulled back and punched him as hard as you could in the face. His neck flexed under your palm as he sucked in a breath and then laughed in your face as his split lip began to bleed jade down his chin to stain the collar of the white button up he loved so much. Letting out a wordless shriek you reared back and punched him again, using the blood coating your knuckles to smear the dark liquid all over his covered chest. You hoped it’d be ruined, you hoped his blood would remain a blotch on the fabric to remind him of this night every time he had to look at it. How fucking dare he just waltz into your life to do things like this? To- to- exist to piss you off!
Snatching your wrists in a sudden move that caught you by surprise he rolled the two of you over until he was on top of you, pinning your arms above your head as he let our his own wordless cicada hiss of sound. His ears had pinned back, the yellow of his eyes gone orange as he flashed rainbow drinker bright at you. Despite the fact you knew you couldn’t fight him off you still struggled in his grip just to be a pain. Anything to make this harder for him. To frustrate him to the same degree he regularly frustrated you. Yanking your arms and thrashing until your arms throbbed with the promise of bruises and that deep rooted animalistic instinct he always seemed to tease to the surface began to simmer under your flesh. Breathing heavily you slowly relaxed in his hold as you waited for him to shift with the thought he’d won whatever little game he thought he was in control of. Meeting his eyes you refused to look away, the two of you staring each other down until his body began to untense ever so slightly.
In a flash you lunged.
Teeth clamping down hard and vicious on his lower lip you glared and yanked. He snarled, jerking back as the bitter taste of his blood filled your mouth. Troll blood had none of the coppery taste of human blood, instead it coated your tongue with a bitter thick quality that made you gag. Taking the opportunity for what it was you spit his own blood back into his face so you could bare your blunt human teeth like he liked to bare his fangs.
He reared back a look of disgust flashing across his face.
“You fucking bitch.” He snapped, finally thrown off guard and affronted. Your lips twisted into a sadistically pleased grin. The gritting of your teeth near audible at the satisfaction of finally getting him to crack. His eyes darted across your face, pupils slit in a way that was decidedly alien and pissed. Jade dripped hot and sticky from his chin to your face as he seemed to freeze in place.
His lips crashed into your own using his tongue to force your mouth open and fill your tastebuds with the awful bitter taste of his blood. Your snarl of outraged disgust was muffled by his own mouth and the sharp points of his teeth slit into the soft meat of your own lips. When he pulled back to grin at you, mouth streaked red and jade you sneered up at him feeling every bit of the sharp burn that no doubt had red streaking your own face. Turning your head to the side you spit out the blood pooling in your mouth and attempted to shove him off of you. His hands slammed your arms back into the ground for the effort. Mouth finding yours again you nipped at his lips and scraped your tongue on the needle sharpness of his teeth as he sucked the blood from your mouth and face. The glide of his tongue barely lukewarm as it lapped at the smears of color. His throat worked to swallow the blood down as he groaned and licked his lips.
“Sick fuck.” You scoffed.
“Like you weren’t looking for an excuse to get me alone.” He purred legs already working to shove open your own. Swearing you attempted to wiggle away and accidentally ground your knee between his legs. His hips rocked into your own as he hissed.
“Of course you get off on this.” You sneered.
“And you don’t?” He snapped rhetorically one hand releasing you to tug at your pants. Using his distraction to your advantage you grabbed hold of one of his horns and thrust upwards forcing him up and off you. He rolled and you were on your feet already sprinting further away from him. Behind you was the alien chittering shriek of rage. Of predator and prey as you fled and Lanque chased. The pounding of your heart jackhammering against your ribs as you did everything you could to keep the space between the two of you. There was only so much you could do as he began gaining, you’d never been a track star and even your time on Alternia could only aid you so much. It was a futile move but you’d be damned before you made any part of this easy for him. When he collided with your back the two of you went down hard. Spots danced in your vision as you let out yet another wordless scream of rage and struggled to get out from under him. Chest pinned to the ground you could hear him cursing up a storm as he yanked your arms back and began using his undone tie to bind your wrists. Kicking out with your legs you tried to nail him where it’d hurt but he only used his own weight to keep you pinned.
“Fuck you.” You snarled still trying to worm your way away from him.
“You will be.” He replied darkly, every bit of pretentious prick back in his voice. You heard the distinct sound of his belt being undone, the clink of the buckle deafening in your straining ears. Sucking in a sharp breath between your teeth you hissed at the rough fabric burn of your own pants being yanked halfway down your thighs. More of that fury began to well up hot and fast as you realized how wet you actually were. You knew there had to be a wet spot on your panties as he yanked them down too exposing you to the humid Alternian night air. He’d wrangled your pants and underwear down to your knees before slamming into you roughly, no warning as his bulge speared you in one fluid motion. It was cold, barely lukewarm like the rest of him and it caused more of your fluid to gush out from the shock of it as your pussy burned from the abrupt stretch. He hissed in pleasure, tone bordering on a buzzing sound as he got used to the heat of you. You could picture the way his head was thrown back, teeth bared and chest heaving as he panted. His bulge writhed inside you and the air was punched from your lungs as it began ruthlessly teasing your insides with harsh pleasure. Each thrust of his hips meeting your ass rang loud and sharp mixing with the snarling growl next to your ear as he folded himself over you. He nipped at your ear and the sharp sting of his teeth reminded you exactly who was fucking you into the ground like an animal in heat. You knew there would be bruises, dark purples and sickly greens, a deep aching pain that was almost sweet in its pulsing throb. One arm hooked around your neck, pulling you just slightly off the ground as each rolling thrust of the cold bulge went deeper than any human cock. Grinding better than any toy as Lanque set a punishing pace. Your breaths came in choked off pants as the angle he had pulled you into made your hips press more firmly against the grass, the blades scratching against your clit. A moan worked its way past the tight muscles of your throat as you clenched around him, so close to falling over that edge, and then Lanque was ripping himself out of you and twisting you onto your back. You nearly squealed from surprise as your legs fell open at the abruptness- barely held in place by your pants still trapped around your ankles. Arms pinned beneath you it took an effort not to squirm in discomfort and give him the satisfaction. Above you Lanque snarled unseeingly at your pants preventing him from doing what he wanted. Grabbing them he tore them the rest of the way off your body, ripping your shoes off in the process.
You couldn’t stop the shout that left you as he yanked you up onto his thighs and thrust back into you hard and fast. A moan punched out of you as he rocked into you at that same brutal pace, practically humping into your cunt rather than pulling out to thrust. His hand found your throat. Fingers pressing to your pulse to hold you down rather than choke you out.
A warning.
Legs hooking around his waist you couldn’t stop the steady rocking of your own hips as your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. You hated how fucking good it felt, how it practically made you melt. Thoughts fleeing from your head with each drag against your g-spot. His lips found your chin, teeth scraping against sensitive flesh before they found your lips again. Teeth teasing your clotting cuts until they began to bleed again. You opened your mouth wider letting the blood pool on your tongue so he could drink it up, tongue sliding against your own with desperation.
The sweet heat of orgasm began to rise once more and you moaned openly into his mouth as he pressed himself impossibly closer.
This time he didn’t stop, humping against your clit as you shook and squealed through it. He groaned into the heat of your mouth pulling back as his hips worked to saw you in half and his low hitched breathing began to become more frequent. When he came you gave a shout at the sudden coldness popping inside you like a water balloon. Jade slurry staining your thighs and dripping into the grass. Gasping jaggedly you gave Lanque’s bulge one last squeeze that had him hissing out an Alternian swear as he pulled away. Your chests were heaving both of you still trembling and trying to come down from your highs.
“Fuck.” Lanque sighed running a hand through his hair as he leaned back on his thighs. Jade dribbled down his splayed legs and you smirked condescendingly at the fact he’d cum with his nook too despite not having anything shoved up it. Something to bring up and dangle over his head later when you could think straight.
@qu1nntastrophy
You
You are my people. You had me at realitrees and unhealthy mindfuckery. I want everything you possibly have on the realitybreak crew because I fucking LOVE this shit and AAAAA LOOK AT THE SPRITE EDITS I ADORE THEM
Please feel free to info dump on me. Toss me into the lore deep end. Give me the aus. My body is ready.
hi idk if you like to hear other peoples headcanons so if you dont pls ignore but i want to talk to SOMEONE about my silly purpleblood headcanon
-
alright so; face paint. i dont particularly like the "every purpleblood is a clown" thing (but if you do then hell yeah go off love is real) as it kinda limits the character variety of that caste, but i DO like the face paint as a detail so ive settled with this: i headcanon that the face paint purples are prone to wear is not a Clown thing nor a Cult thing, but a cultural thing. all (or most) purplebloods wear a coat of face paint to symbolically conceal themselves. showing your bare face to someone youre not close/in a quadrant with is seen as a taboo in purpleblood cultures. additionally, letting a quadantmate/close friend see ones face is probably the biggest sign of trust a purple can do (depending on how they feel about the tradition). and having them HELP WASH IT OFF??? ough, now thats /tender/.
I need you to understand that I am ABSOLUTELY FERAL over this idea and it goes perfect with an older headcanon thing I did a while back
Here: https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/639719797773549568/hey-your-writing-was-awesome-ive-just?source=share
AND LISTEN- LISTEN-
NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING ME YOUR OWN HEADCANONS I LOVE THAT SHIT.
God okay but like, the TENDERNESS??? Of washing off your big purples paint??? The damn SWEETNESS and TRUST of being allowed to help them apply it in the mornings???
NO ONE TOUCH ME IM NOT OKAY
EDIT: YES! Yes I love talking about other peoples headcanons! TALK TO ME ABOUT THE HEAD CANONS-
It may take me a while to get request done but man do I try to deliver. Ngl I feel bad real life keeps getting in the way of churning out content but I gotta pay the bills some way. I appreciate the patience everyone has shown while I work on requests and real life problems and I just want people to know that. I'm still continuing to work on other requests and asks so for those that send them in please don't be discouraged. I'm just slow.
Okay so this is a down and dirty guide to this blog since I am going to try and be more active on it. Any questions about the blog will be put here for convenience sake and I will try to keep it as up to date as possible.
Q: Do you write nsfw?
A: Yes, however, I ask that you specify that's what you're asking for and to be a little specific in the ask. I also encourage specifying if its gender-neutral, AFAB, AMAB, etc. so the request turns out to your liking. I reserve the right to not do requests that make me uncomfortable but that is a case by case basis. As certain things pop up I will update the FAQ with what I'm not comfortable writing. I also warn ahead of time that the NSFW requests will take longer.
Q: Are requests/asks open? A: Yes they are! Unless specifically stated requests and asks will always be open.
Q: How long does it take for requests to be answered? A: That fluctuates wildly with both inspiration and free time. I try to do at least two in one sitting so if one is posted a second one usually follows. I try to answer and fill requests and asks as much and as quickly as I can.
Q: Will you abandon this blog? A: Nope! I enjoy it far too much. While there are times I don't post for quite some time I will return. If ever I do abandon the blog there will be an official post for it.
Q: Is it okay to request different fandoms? A: Absolutely! I'm in a lot of different fandoms so really its just a matter of asking if the fandom you want me to write for is one that I'm in. I may have to make an official masterlist for my fandoms as it becomes relevant and when I do it will be linked here.
THE LINK FOR FANDOM MASTERLIST: https://morsartis.tumblr.com/post/652309028149592064/fandom-masterlist
Q: Can we request part (insert number here)s for drabbles you've already done? A: Yep! Feel free though I ask that you give me a general idea of what you want that part to include.
Q: Can we request headcanons?
A: Oh sweet jesus yes. Absolutely. Lay the ideas all over my inbox like a damn shrine.
Q: Do you write original characters x reader? A: This started as a monsterfucker blog. If ever I have a character you like and want more of just ask and I will go hog wild. There will be xeno all over this blog. Its not just fandom.
That's all I have for FAQs right now but if a question isn't answered here please feel free to ask!
Dwarven young are extremely well protected. Most will not leave the mountains until they are the human equivalent of ten years of age. More so, dwarven young will not be allowed out of their homes until they are the human equivalent of five. This has caused the misconception of dwarven babies being carved from stone.
Of course the parents often take it as a compliment! To dwarves comparing the child to rocks or stronger metals/gems is similar to saying their child is strong and will live a long life. Common things dwarven parents call their children are often Pebble, Stone, Precious Gem, Gold Nugget, Ore, and in some instances Coal Ember. This, of course, only makes the misconception of dwarves being carved from stone more popular.
Common nick names given to children often have to do with the parent’s craft. It is not uncommon to hear the dwarf child being called Little Pickaxe or Little Forge depending on profession. Many times the parent chooses to only refer to the child by a nickname when outside of the mountain they live in. It is an old custom carried on into the present that is meant to protect the child by making sure a stranger cannot trick them into thinking they can be trusted.
When it comes to human charges, however, the rules change. Often dwarven family will refer to the human as their middle name, a family name, or by descriptors. Though some will refer to them as metals/stones/precious gems and the like it is not as common as the former. It can be guessed with a surprising bit of accuracy that a dwarf who refers to their human(s) as metals, stones, or precious gems has known that human since their birth and has taken over most of that human’s raising since then. This also carries over to other species adopted by dwarves though humans are the most common.
It is considered bad manners to refer to someone as their actual name when introducing them to strangers unless that stranger is in a higher position than both persons. If one does not know the rank of the stranger a safe bet to go with is the dwarf’s family name/clan name with a descriptor such as ‘Dark hair of the Irontooth Clan’. Children are not to be introduced to strangers until they are firmly in their teens. This has caused quite a bit of shock to dwarves being introduced to children of other races. The most children get as introduction to a stranger is ‘my child’ or ‘my (2nd/1st/3rd/etc..) eldest/youngest’.
WARNING: Do not ask a dwarf child their name. Ever.
homestuck is old enough to start playing sburb today...... incredible
I finally figured out the links thing and feel like a born again idiot lmao. I’ll try and keep this updated as it progresses!
PART 1
https://morsartis.tumblr.com/post/637540536742543360/lights-part-1
PART 2
https://morsartis.tumblr.com/post/637560034518302720/lights-part-2
PART 3
https://morsartis.tumblr.com/post/639353903581888512/lights-part-3
PART 4
https://morsartis.tumblr.com/post/670139166780260352/lights-part-4
Your friendly pansexual fantasy writer and theorist. Come and be welcome. I'm happy to take requests for different fandoms as well! !!REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND ENCOURAGED!!
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