Luxiem and Notycx Stuff??

Luxiem stuff

I thought of these. Less humor, more idk. I hope I make them sound somewhat eloquent (haha look I'm using big words, so smart) though.

I watch more of Luxiem so it's probably going to be harder for me to write the Notycx one of this (by Luxiem, I mean like 69% Shu streams lel). 

Do note that these are my headcanons, they may not be completely accurate to the lores or streams. 

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The lone demon stands his watch. The years feel like nothing more than a few mere seconds to him; his time on the mortal earth starting to seem meaningless. Every day feels like nothing more than a mere speck of dust in his eternal walk of suffering. 

What was the fall of his clanmates for? Their deaths, their screams? Pathetic, pathetic. His people perished for his honor. They placed their faith in someone they shouldn't have. 

Now, there was no redemption for him, no cure for his curse. He was to walk with pain and guilt, a sliver of salvation feeling oh so far away. 

He may now indulge himself in his own pleasures, cause chaos with his closest of friends, smile brightly at the camera, but he knows. He knows, somewhere in the future, the illusions will fade away, and he'll be left with nothing but dust.

But for now, he supposed, he'll cherish what he has.  

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A cacophonic scene unfolded before his very eyes. Screams and pleads resonated through the walls, now embellished with the varnish of blood and scraps of wallpaper. 

He should've felt guilty. After all, he was the one who caused this, he was the one who made them cry out for their lives. 

But he didn't. An odd sensation ran through him; something he couldn't describe. A lingering feeling that he held onto, piercing every sense of morality he learned, prying away at his facade. 

A twisted smile begged to form at his lips, sadistic thoughts found its way into his mind. 

The shattering sound made by the drop of his glass invoked silence in an instant. 

"B-Boss? Is something the matter?"

"Oh? Wouldn't you like to know? Hand me your gun." 

The man warily handed the blonde his weapon, and without hesitation, the latter fired right through his chest.

"Don't waver when I give you orders. That goes for everyone. Didn't I say get rid of them all?"

A side no one thought the kindhearted innocent man could have, yet no one dared to question it. 

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He was the most well-respected being of his profession. No one even came close to his level of expertise. Both intelligent and bright, his light was stunning beyond words. They believed he could solve anything, that he would always find an answer without fail. 

But there's always a limit. A limit for everything and everyone. Sometimes that limit is something you must overcome. Other times, it's a limit that's meant to push you back, to make you rethink your decisions. 

His greatest mistake, one of his only mistakes, is not recognizing that limit. It hit him, hard.

And that's where he finds himself in this predicament. His usual routine of solving mysteries disappeared. For once in his life, he found true confusion bind him, his senses going haywire. He didn't know what to do, where to begin.

He distracted himself, surrounding himself in a field of lies as he desperately searched for an answer. 

And for once in his life, he considered giving up. 

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Writers are known for their eloquent words, their immersive storytelling. Their works can either be a masterpiece, or they can be disposable, left on the shelves, untouched, forgotten. 

A reason why many authors struggle for the right inspiration, the right expressions to convey their stories with. 

And that inspiration could come from anywhere, even the most unlikely of places or experiences. An author is willing to use anything at their disposal to communicate with their audiences. 

He wasn't one to take risks, but at the moment, at the time, the offer seemed quite alluring. 

He'd give and take what he had. He had nothing and everything to lose. 

He'd take on as many roles as he can, find his best inspirations, experience whatever there is to experience here for him. It's a strange path for an author, but he didn't mind. 

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Sorcery. A mass amount of power right at his fingertips. If he wished, he could perhaps decimate the entire country. He never did though, and because of that, people tend to mistake him for a nice, kindhearted weak sorcerer. 

A fatal mistake, really. 

Those who've truly seen his power would shy away from him at all costs, or at least, avoid ensuing his wrath. 

He could generate wisps of black smoke that blinded populations, summon flames that burned entire forests, plague people with disease that had no cure. All in a few mere seconds. 

But power always comes as a cost, the cost of never being able to live a normal life. As many say, the power could consume you. 

A voice is always begging at the sorcerer, to unleash his power, show the world what he's truly made of. To avoid ever trying to fit in, ever to trying to control anything, and just let it all go. 

His patience always wins at the end. He forces it all down, swallows the voice and ignores it all. He's content with what he has at the moment. 

But he's not sure how long it'll take before he breaks. 

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Ike and Mysta were too hard to write. Idk what to do for them. I also probably went a bit ooc on Luca's, but it was fun so I'm not sorry. 

Insane characters are kinda cool, just saying. 

Let me know if you guys want a Notycx version of this.