Your Touchstarved headcanons are wonderful! You are almost single handedly keeping me sane while I wait for the full game. Truly, you are a blessing to this fandom.
I was wondering if you had any thoughts about what any of the LIs would think of an MC who is a Writer/Artist. Maybe they had to give it up for a while when they left to go to Erridia?
Or...
Since MC is broke, what do the LIs think of them showing affection through gifts, even if they haven't got money? I can imagine they make simple, inexpensive things like paper flowers for Leander or friendship bracelets for Ais.
Anyway I hope you have a great day, keep up the good work and thanks for posting so much good stuff.💐🌼
I’m actually crying you’re so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH?!! AVCKHVCEBFC 😭😭
I took it a step further, I hope you don't mind.
This is 1/2 :)
Disclaimer! They/Them for MC because we love inclusivity!
Kuras
Writer
He’d probably figure it out rather quickly. The way they would meticulously jot down notes, the endless stream of ideas, and their thoughtful insights into various u̶n̶c̶o̶n̶v̶e̶n̶t̶i̶o̶n̶a̶l̶ topics. Or perhaps he had caught glimpses of their constantly ink-stained fingers. Either way, it became another entry in Kuras' catalogue of fascinating things about them. Undeniably intrigued, he couldn't help but wonder if their writing reflected their innermost thoughts and desires—if each word they wrote held a piece of their soul, waiting to be discovered by someone willing to delve into the depths of their imagination—or perhaps if it was simply a creative outlet for emotions they couldn't express otherwise.
Kuras found himself wanting to uncover the layers of complexity that made up the enigmatic individual behind the pages of their notebooks. And he was more than willing to take on that challenge.
Taking into consideration the fact that perhaps the MC wouldn't be able to afford fancy writing tools or notebooks, often writing down messy notes in napkins with worn-out pens and crayons left behind by patrons at the Wick, Kuras would gift them a brand new notebook and a set of pens, hoping that the small gesture would encourage the MC to continue expressing themselves through writing and perhaps even open up to him about the deeper secrets of themselves they had yet to reveal.
Vere
Artist
As a fellow artist himself, Vere knew to recognize talent when he saw it, no matter how subtle or unassuming it may appear at first glance. After all, true artistry is not just about skill but also passion and dedication. He didn't miss the way the MC's eyes lingered a moment longer on the brush strokes of a distant painting in a random Eridian shop with such reverence, as if trying to capture the essence of the art itself, before moving on, or the way their eyes focused on the lightning dancing across the sky and their fingers twitched with an unspoken desire to create.
Vere could sense the raw artistry bubbling just beneath the surface; he saw in them the same hunger for self-expression and longing for freedom that had driven him to pursue his own artistic endeavours.
So he carefully crafted a plan. He discreetly left behind pens and paper in the MC's vicinity. He didn't directly hand it to them, opting to let them stumble upon the supplies, hoping that the MC would take notice and feel compelled to pick up the tools on their own accord. Don't ask him why he did so; he doesn't know the answer himself. Perhaps because of an inexplicable curiosity and a desire to see if he could spark something within the MC, to see if he could ignite that same creative flame that burned within him. Or maybe it was simply a gut feeling. Regardless, he watched from a distance as the MC began to tentatively pick up the pens and paper, their eyes alight with newfound inspiration. It brought a g̶e̶n̶u̶i̶n̶e̶ satisfied smile to his face, his tail wagging back and forth in contentment.
Leander
Dance
Leander figured the MC used to be a dancer. It was obvious if one paid close attention; their perfect posture, precision, strength, and flexibility in their body were a dead giveaway. He'd notice the gracefulness in their movements, every step deliberate and full of confidence, and the fluid transitions between postures.
Leander found himself bewitched. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the MC as they'd effortlessly glided around the Wick, their feet barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. It was effortless, seamless, and utterly captivating. He will admit he couldn't help the small smile once he'd noticed the subtle way they would often tap their feet to the rhythm of a song roaring throughout the tavern.
It was a talent that couldn't be hidden, no matter how hard they tried.
His plan was simple: He needed some sort of opening, somewhere to insert himself into the situation without coming across as intrusive (o̶r̶ a̶g̶g̶r̶e̶s̶s̶i̶v̶e̶… o̶r̶ d̶e̶m̶a̶n̶d̶i̶n̶g̶… o̶r̶—). He would simply attempt to start a conversation with them and praise their dance skills, hoping to learn more about that talent of theirs—maybe even ask them for a dance later in the evening—while also finding a way to subtly steer the conversation towards more personal matters.
N̶o̶, i̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶n̶'t̶ n̶e̶r̶v̶e̶s̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ f̶l̶u̶t̶t̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ i̶n̶ h̶i̶s̶ s̶t̶o̶m̶a̶c̶h̶. I̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ p̶r̶o̶b̶a̶b̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ e̶x̶c̶i̶t̶e̶m̶e̶n̶t̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶e̶ u̶n̶k̶n̶o̶w̶n̶ o̶u̶t̶c̶o̶m̶e̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ a̶w̶a̶i̶t̶e̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ a̶n̶d̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶ b̶l̶a̶h̶—
Mhin
Sculpture
They noticed something was up because the MC. wouldn’t. stop. staring. at their face. The way their eyes lingered on Mhin's features made them feel self-conscious, as if every flaw and imperfection were being scrutinised under a microscope.
Mhin couldn't decipher the intent behind the intense gaze, but it left them feeling both uncomfortable and strangely flattered. They couldn't help but wonder what it was about their appearance that captivated the MC so intensely. It was as if they'd seen something in them that no one else did—something worth examining closely.
They tried to maintain a neutral expression but ended up shifting uncomfortably in their seat, trying to break the look that seemed to be piercing through their very soul.
It wasn't until the MC finally spoke up, complimenting Mhin's bone structure and suggesting they would make a great model for a sculpting project, that Mhin made the connection.
The revelation made Mhin feel incredibly flattered and intrigued, as they had never considered themselves to be particularly striking or noteworthy. The idea of being immortalised in stone by someone talented was… intimidating. And somehow humbling.
Ais
Architecture
He is observant, and can easily notice a person who seems particularly interested in a specific thing. He observed them, their body language, facial expressions and the way they looked at things around them, their eyes tracing the fine details from afar—it was almost like they were analysing them.
What made his suspicions clear was...the Seaspring. F̶i̶n̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ d̶a̶m̶n̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ w̶a̶s̶ u̶s̶e̶f̶u̶l̶ a̶t̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ b̶e̶y̶o̶n̶d̶ b̶r̶i̶n̶g̶i̶n̶g̶ d̶e̶s̶p̶a̶i̶r̶
It was the way they looked at the building in particular; their eyes darted around, as if examining every inch, every line and curve of the temple. He’d smirk to himself, eyes following their every move, as if he could read their thoughts.
He’d bring them anything; from papers, inks and rulers to wood and other building materials. He’d let them demolish, remodel, completely renovate the fucking thing—he couldn’t care less, as long as he had somewhere to rest at night. Besides, their smile was worth more to him than any amount of power he could be offered.
I could make another one with Singing/Music, Theatre and Design or Ceramics perhaps….
Not too many thoughts on this, just...
Kuras dealing with phantom pains of the wings he no longer has. The scars on his back have long healed over and faded with time, but occasionally, he still feels a tingling or a sharp throb where his wings should be. It shouldn't make sense, but the human form is odd like that. He encounters so many of these bizarre phenomena in his own facsimile of humanity. He's had centuries to grow accustomed to these pains — and in some ways, he has — but they continue to catch him off guard, makes him feel almost…mortal.
Leander's scar, the one that stretches over his arm to a good part of his chest and shoulder, and ends at the side of his face, continues to give him trouble even though it is healed. Most days, he feels a certain tightness in the scar tissue of his left arm and shoulder and most days, the discomfort is manageable. He doesn't even notice it most of the time. And on the days he is actually bothered by the pain, he tends to conceal that suffering from others. He's used to wearing a mask, after all.
Vere's heightened sense of smell and hearing gives him a deadly edge over his prey and he revels in his mastery of those senses. But having a sensitive nose and ears can also lead to an overstimulation that borders on pain, especially in a large city such as Eridia, constantly bombarding one with a racket of sounds and jumbled voices, strong offensive odours stinging your nostrils, and everyone's souls are too bright and suddenly, the shadows are too loud and restless. Unfortunately, he can’t always choose where he goes when he is leashed and those are the days that the fox is far more brutal on his hunts.
Ais dealing with the occasional migraines that come from having an eldritch entity and entire hivemind locked into one’s head. It's a never-ending cacophony that slams against the walls of his skull as if it means to burst out. The pain comes in waves, pulses, almost like the push and pull of a tide, or the beat of a collective heart. When it happens, he usually isolates until the worst of the headache passes. He's used to getting through things alone now, as ironic as that sounds with his link to an ever present Groupmind.
Mhin on bad pain days where it’s not the imminent-transformation kind of pain — but it’s one of those days where their bones don’t feel like they fit beneath their skin. They are cursed with a monster inside of them, and some days, the condition feels agonizingly literal, like there is a physical beast writhing inside them, knocking against their organs and making their bones creak from the strain until they are forced to break and knit back together in the wrong way.
Just the Touchstarved LIs dealing with pain.
Apparently my stepdad and I are fucking psychically linked because ?? every single time he makes chili for dinner I get a migraine. Without fail. And it became like a ha ha running joke because it happened so many times but now I’m living 3 hours away from my parents and I just texted my mom and
WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME
Idk why, but I'd love the idea of Ais having two heartbeats.
Like imagine a scene where mc and he have to hide in an ally again and get all squashed between two buildings. Mc being close enough to hear his heartbeat and then... wait a minute... are there.. two? (Because of ocudeus)
Idk. I sounds cooler in my head
I really like the light work here.
On one side the floor is yellow-white, while on the other it is blue. Just so nice
And I like how the text is reflected off a floor and goes up through the bounds in the upper side.
I don't want to die
forget freak. who's gonna match my cringe.
once again thinking of mhin and mc as mirror images to each other; two sides of the same coin. how mhin is cynical and believing in only themself, unwilling to trust another as much as they do to their own ability and instinct from what is presumably their own prior experience of having trusted before and then having to crawl out of hell as a changed person as a result of it; how mc has gone through the same thing, travelling through the cursed world beyond eridia alone and undoubtedly suffering their own betrayals, and still has the capacity to trust, to hope that they will find a cure to their curse. how mhin stares at them and sees a reflection of what they could have been, can’t help but wonder: is it because they are just so good in their heart? was i lacking in a way they weren’t? why is it just me that suffers, and not them? but mc smiles at mhin again, treats them kindly despite their insistence on pushing them away, and mhin realises: oh. oh.
maybe they still have a chance.
things i say that confuse and worry my coworkers:
“happy birthday” every time i hand them something
“well, that’s not ideal” whenever something is going wrong
“we are in the timeline that god abandoned” whenever i’m mildly inconvenienced
“can’t you see that your fighting is tearing this family apart?” whenever two or more coworkers are arguing
referring to taking medication as “eating medicine”
“time to go back to prison!” when putting animals back in their cages
referring to inanimate objects as (s)he, particularly when i break something and say “oh no, he’s dead.” this concerns them especially when i follow it up with “that’s not ideal”
“what are they gonna do, fire me?”