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#dark mode hurts my eyes its a whole thing
frostythespacecat · 2 years
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*gently drops to my knees and clasps my hands together*
Please offer some sort of image description that isn't just alt text I do not care if its under a read more the alt text means nothing to me. Even if I had a screen reader, my ears and brain are not friends most of the time and I shouldn't have to find my earbuds just to know what the text in an image says Especially when it's already been fully transcribed, just in a way I can't otherwise access
I dont care if it makes the post incredibly long. I dont care if it annoys other people. I just want to be able to read things without hurting my eyes bc of black text on white backgrounds (doubly awful if its small text)
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dontbelasagnax · 6 months
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First, I love your art and your fics so much! Second, you seem like someone who has very good Codywan headcanons, and I’d love to hear some of them if you have any you’d like to share 🙂 (No pressure at all though!)
Tysm anon!!! I don't know what kind of headcanons you're looking for but I have soooo many always haha! They live in the nebulous realm of headcanons in which they are applied to every iteration of codywan unless they are not--for no reason other than vibes. All sfw but I always have thots (very intentional spelling) if anyone would like to hear about the nsfw things.
- Cody has spreadsheets for everything. It calms and organizes his mind. Helps him visualize and put the chaos to rights. When Obi-Wan notices Cody getting antsy and agitated, he gently asks him if he's made a spreadsheet recently. If that doesn't solve things, he'll offer to look over the charts together. If that doesn't solve the issue, he'll pull Cody into his lap, tenderly kiss any available real estate that needs kissing, and twirl fingers through his head of curls and massage away the tension. For all that Cody hates when his hair gets messed up, he does love being pet like a cat.
(the rest is going under the cut because I'm rather verbose)
- SPEAKING OF CATS! Cody is a cat person. This is nothing new, I just wholeheartedly know it to be true. It's only because he wants a cat so badly that he acts like he doesn't care for them. Obi-Wan sees through the facade. He saw how Cody looked at the stray tooka they rescued from the rubble one somber evening. How he cradled the lump of fluff and ran his thumb back between ears as if the lightest of touches would hurt the poor dear. How palpable was the anguish in his eyes after handing off the tooka to the surviving locals of the city. Even after he said, "Glad that's over with. Would hate to get cat hair on my blacks." Obi-Wan knows. So the next time he's on Coruscant, he buys a little orange plush tooka. It's tiny, only just bigger than his hand, but perfect. He ties a piece of flimsi reading '- OWK' to its neck with a ribbon and tucks it under the covers of Cody's bed so its head and front paws peek out. Perhaps he's a coward, perhaps he's just being gracious in letting Cody have some privacy in receiving his gift. What he does know is the next time he feels Cody staring long at the side of his face, he looks back and Cody blushes and smiles ever so slightly- shy. Oh, Obi-Wan loves him.
- Obi-Wan doesn't hate caf. It's simply not his favorite. When he does drink it, he likes it black. There could be many reasons for this but Cody thinks it's a superiority complex thing. Cody likes his caf with cream and two packets of sweetener. Sure, he'll drink any caf shoved his way, but what he truly enjoys? Yeah, it's not the shit coming straight from the dark depths of a Sith Lord's ass crack.
- Cody likes when Obi-Wan drives. Could be a ship, speeder--any mode of transport, really. It's not a secret that Obi-Wan does not like driving. With how calm and steady he remains at the wheel, there is tension in his jaw, bitten into his cheek, and clenched white into his knuckles. It stresses him out. But he is good at it. And he makes Cody feel safe. Cody doesn't get to feel safe a whole lot in the midst of war.
- Cody will never tell a living soul this (except maybe when he gets so sloshed he can't remember his name or all the reasons why he really should not lay out his honest bleeding truths) but his favorite color is not 212th gold. Yes, 212th gold is Cody's color. It's his. But blue is what he finds most aesthetically beautiful. It's the color of a certain Jedi's eyes in the sunlight and the unnatural glow of that same Jedi's lightsaber. It's the color of that Jedi's eyes in a dim room when he looks looks soft and tired, a blue that's more grey than anything resembling an actual blue. It's not one color and yet it is because he loves that color just like he loves that Jedi. He doesn't love the color just when it's pretty in one vibrant idealistic shade. He falls in love again and again when he sees it in new lights. Just like Obi-Wan.
- not to cozywan truth on main or anything but There's not a place Cody and Obi-Wan sleep better than in each other's arms. Or maybe not arms, per se, but sprawled across one another in some fashion. Touching. More often than not, in the tiny cots onboard The Negotiator, Cody ends up plastered to Obi-Wan's back, arm possessively wrapped round his front to keep him from falling off the edge. With the luxury of a bed actually made to fit two grown men, things aren't much better. Cody wakes to find he's being suffocated by Obi-Wan who, in his sleep, discovered the joys of lying directly on top of Cody. Cody's not innocent. He can count multiple occasions where he's buried his face in Obi-Wan's belly and woken up to being gently shoved away from his heated pillow because, oops, his resting place was a full bladder. Neither of them complain too much, not when it's so easy to be lulled into the warm, liquidy loose and easy clutches of cozy sleep in close quarters to the person they love. Something deep in the brain unlocks and says, 'everything's alright now, relax, let it all go--safe, safe, safe,' when Obi-Wan's cold nose finds the column of Cody's throat who's hand comes up to indulgently cards through silky hair. There's a resonating hum of rightness in their chests that says, 'home'.
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bumblesimagines · 2 years
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Headcanon:
Ez when his partner is expecting
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Request: Yes or No
Pronouns for (Y/N): They/Them
Before anyone comes at me for tagging this as M!reader, keep ftm readers in mind
~~~
First, we can't start this without talking about how you tell him
It had been dinner with Ez stuffing his face and ranting about god-knows-what, completely oblivious to the bomb you were about to drop
As soon as the words leave your lips, Ez stops, fork in hand and cheeks full of food
You could practically see the gears turning in his head
As soon as it settles, he leans back in his chair, finishes chewing, stands up and gives you a bear hug
If the both of you were still living in the trailer, you certainly aren’t now
The first few weeks of your pregnancy, he's normal
He reads anything he can find on pregnancy and often tells you facts he’s learned
If you have any symptoms, he's by your side, rubbing your back and whispering sweet nothings
Once you start showing, it’s a whole different story
Seeing your bump is the push he needed to finally enter Papa Bear Mode
His hand is constantly on your bump when you’re around, thumb always rubbing up and down
When laying down, he loves resting his head next to your bump and talking to it, both in English and broken Spanish
Once the bump grows, he’s able to convince Bishop and Marcus to give him time off (seeing as they both know the feeling of fatherhood, they understand Ez)
He refuses to leave you alone or let you do anything
But on the flip side, this man will do anything for you
This includes; massages, warm baths, pampering, getting your favorite food
You want it? You got it!
At the 7-9 month period, Ez is obsessed with kissing your belly and just being around you
He recites poetry, collects all the books his late mother read to him as a child, and attends classes 
When you go into labor, Angel is surprisingly the one freaking out
“That’s my nephew/niece! I swear to God, if any of you assholes fuck this up-”
Ez is by your side, holding your hand and doing the breathing exercises alongside you
Any contraction that pains you just makes him wince and praise you
His eyes don’t leave your face until he hears the first cries
For a moment, he freezes but then he hears the congratulations and praises from the staff and holy shit he’s a dad now
His face when he first holds his baby is pure admiration and love
Ez no longer had one true love, he now had two
And God help anyone who ever thought about threatening his beloved family
BONUS
Felipe had been... conflicted when first told the news
On one hand, he was thrilled about being a grandfather!
But on the other, he was nervous about Ez and the darkness in him waiting to make its appearance
However, seeing how Ez looked at the baby and the gentleness in which he treated you, he knew things were gonna be alright
Angel refused to hold the baby 
He was terrified of hurting or dropping them
It took a lot of coaxing and reassuring from him to finally hold them
And it was love at first sight
He was more than ready to play the fun uncle role
All of Santo Padre was there, in the halls of the hospital waiting and praying
Ez was respected and loved by them, they had to be there for their brother 
When they see Ez step out with that stupid little smile, they’re all relieved
Your baby would be well taken care of, that was for sure
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hikari-writes · 1 year
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❥ Secret Route [2]
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Part 17;
╰┈➤ the kissy thing
Summary ❥ Kuroo had been dating the team's manager, aka you, for quite some time now...or so what Kenma, Yaku, and the whole volleyball club members, thought. With the truth of your relationship status out, will Yaku finally be able to act on his feelings? Or will Kuroo finally decide to break it to you that what he's been telling you were no jokes?
[previous] || [next]
- i figured since last time we have a one on one with kai its fair to do one with kenken too so....
- now we acc got some insight on whats goin on
- forgot to mention but secret route actually have lesser parts than yaku/kuroo routes, so this'll end in like, two more parts (and even those r pretty short in itself)
- also my eyes hurt so i changed the next ss to dark mode lawl
{Masterlist}
[Taglist]
╰┈➤ @hinahaikyuu @fi-chanwrites @ellesalazar @moonlit-mizukage @kuroaka
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erisunoaakaibu · 5 days
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Revival - Chapter 3: The masked warrior
I climbed the stairs to the upper floor and entered the next room. The room was dark and… strangely empty, without anything but a huge hole in the middle. Curious, I approached the hole but with caution. And I heard something, coming out of it.
…A serpent-like creature emerged from the hole. It was green, enormous, and it wore an equally enormous grin, baring many sharp and pointy teeth. Its eyes were yellow, and the whole thing made me feel uneasy.
I took a step back.
“Ho hooo!” The serpent spoke up. “Hello! Look what we have here, a little adventurer, coming to the Spire! Are you looking for… wealth and treasures?”
I took another step back. I didn’t trust this serpent, not a single bit.
“Relax, adventurer, I don’t mean to hurt you!” It continued. “I just want to ask you a simple question, that’s all!”
The thing slithered closer, and lowered its voice. “The most fulfilling of lives is that in which you can buy… anything! Do you agree, oh dear adventurer?"
…buy anything?
No, that wasn’t what defined my definition of “fulfilling”. I had never, ever wanted to just get something by simply buying it. To me, the satisfaction after finishing something on my own was way better than just simply taking out some gold to trade for it.
Besides, I could feel an aura of deceit as the serpent asked me that question. That thing was trying to lure me into its trap, I was sure about it.
So I shook my head.
As I expected, with a look of extreme disappointment, the serpent stared at me, then it slithered down the hole that it had emerged from.
Everything fell into silence again.
…until I heard something from the upper floor. Thumps and crashes. As if a fight was happening there.
And then there was loud yelling and screaming. The sounds seemed to come from a male. Other than that, I couldn’t figure out anything else.
I climbed the stairs again, slowly and cautiously, without making any sounds. I didn’t know what kind of person, or creature, I would meet up there, so it was best to not let my guard down.
The sound got louder and louder as I approached the room. And then, everything ended with a thump sound like something collapsing to the ground.
I peeked into the room, prepared to face whatever horror that might be there…
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And what I saw wasn’t quite what I expected.
There was a man wielding a longsword, standing in the middle of the room. The man was tall and muscular, donned with armor and striking red-colored pants. He wore a metal mask, so most of his skin was covered, except for his neck, which was revealed to be a green color. His hair was white and of medium length, and he wielded a sword with a uniquely-shaped end. Right behind him was a bloody corpse of a creature that looked like a Jaw Worm, which obviously was slain by him, anyone could tell from the bloodstains on his sword.
The guy emitted an almost demonic energy, which slightly startled me. I couldn’t feel any malice from him, but then again, that didn’t prove anything. So I sneaked into the room, trying my best to not create any sounds to attract the masked man. 
Unfortunately though, “Man proposes God disposes”. The guy suddenly turned around, and the holes on his mask locked onto my eyes.
I froze in place.
This was bad, really, really bad, I thought to myself. I didn’t know what to do, as I got caught. The guy looked like a battle-worn warrior, he must be a strong person, and I was just a weak tree nymph…
…wait.
Just as I was about to enter panic mode, I saw him holding something else. It’s a card, with red borders matching his pants.
Apparently, enemies in the Spire did not use cards, so that made him an outsider? 
“Who… who are you?” I asked, slightly shaking.
I admit, I was scared. I couldn’t even remember when was the last time I talked to a human being, and even worse, the person in front of me, I could tell, would be able to chop me into pieces easily, even if I transformed into a tree. Even if he was also an outsider, there’s no guarantee that he would side up with me…
“I should be asking the same question. Also, what are you doing here?” His voice was gruff and loud, despite being partially muffled by his mask.
I didn’t know what to say. But then, I remember the cards. With some hesitation, I summoned my deck.
“Oh, so you’re another adventurer from outside. Call me the Ironclad then. You look like you will need a companion, little one. How should I refer to you?”
“Ah… I-I am… the Dryad.”
The Ironclad slammed the head of his sword to the ground, and reached his right hand towards me, offering a handshake:
"So, you coming along, Dryad?"
I hesitated for a second, before returning the handshake with a nod. And thus, I followed the Ironclad, to form a team of two.
The ascent continued.
I hadn’t fought much, but I had to admit, having a companion did make my journey to climb up this tower easier, even though this Ironclad guy was really reckless. During the two following fights, I had been using different techniques to mitigate the damage done by the enemies to me, due to my fragile nature and my weak offensive abilities. But this guy... he didn't give a single damn about getting hit. He just charged forward and attacked the enemies again and again, until they couldn't move anymore. Whenever I looked at him, I never saw him stop to think of which card to use for more than five seconds. He got hit a lot as a result, but he didn’t seem to mind. This guy had impressive regenerating abilities and a sturdy body that can endure pain though, so that worried me a bit less.
According to the map, the next room was an Elite. It was stated in the Torn Journal that there were three possible types of elite fight that I could encounter in the Exordium.
I checked my deck again. The first thing I noticed was that I hadn’t added any frontload Attack cards in my deck yet, and that wasn’t a good thing. As I walked behind the Ironclad, I quietly prayed to myself…
…I really hate my luck sometimes.
Inside the room, in front of the Ironclad and I was no other than the Gremlin Nob himself. A foe that will hard-counter a deck that’s heavy in Skills.
Oh well, maybe I wasn’t so unlucky after all. Entangling Vines was drawn on the first turn, the only turn that wouldn’t be dangerous to play Skills, according to the journal. I played the card, and reached my hand towards Gremlin Nob. Immediately, thin, thorny vines grew from the ground, wrapping around the monster. I thought for a while more, before going with lowering Nob’s strength even further. Meanwhile, the Ironclad had already inflicted the monster with Vulnerable to prepare for the next turn.
And then, Nob let out a loud roar, as his turn began. Starting from this moment, every skill played would increase its strength for the rest of combat. Of course, I had to inform my ally…
But before I could even say anything, the Ironclad had already started charging forward.
I watched in total disbelief, as the warrior screamed and swung his sword, attacking the enemy as if he hadn't been fighting in quite a while. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was playing, but he played his cards so quickly, I doubt that he actually gave his play any thought. At this point, I really didn't know if he was bloodthirsty, mad, or just plain dumb anymore.
For some reason, it… worked. Gremlin Nob was defeated in a few turns, and both of us survived, taking some moderate hits in the process.
I felt like I hadn’t contributed much during the fight though, because the only thing I could do was to try to weaken the monster. I couldn’t deal as much damage as the Ironclad, what if he thought I was a burden…?
“H-hey…” I softly asked, as we gathered the gold, relic and card drop from the monster. “Y-you are… wounded. Do… Do you need healing?”
“I’ve been through worse, kid. Save that for later.” He dismissed, gesturing me to stay away.
I understood that he had excellent self-healing capabilities, but I was worried that his recklessness might come back at him some time, and he might not be able to make it. At the same time, I felt like I needed to do something to help him, as an ally.
In the end, I decided to not force him. I must have trust in him, he’s strong, after all.
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airiat · 9 months
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northern sky, ten. ✧˚ · .
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{masterlist | beginning}
pairing: joel miller x you / f!reader (wc: 35.3k, 10 chapters)
rating: explicit, 18+
work tags: no outbreak, age difference (27/42), hurt/comfort, ptsd, fate, ldr, explicit sexual content (rough/romantic sex, light d/s & sadomasochism, dirty talk, choking/biting, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected piv, aftercare)
work warnings: themes of death (more details here, contains spoilers), depictions of mental illness/alcoholism, light discussion of theoretical relationship with minor (not condoned by either party), light blood kink
ch. summary: you're stronger than you know.
{ao3}
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ten. {377}
Here you are. You’re driving down the highway, music loud in the car, windows rolled down. Singing along to some song that he’d probably look at you sideways for playing. 'Cause you make the darkness seem so far / And when I'm lost, you'll be my guide / I just turn around, and you're by my side.
But he’d probably sing it with you. 
If this was your journal, the month that would be scrawled in your looping hand at the top of the page would read May. Cold days don’t come around much anymore. There are cold nights, sometimes. Sometimes, mornings take a while to thaw out. But the chill never outstays its welcome. You live a life of warm sunshine, sweet grasses, and bright green leaves.
What has changed, you’re not so sure of, if only just that the earth spins more closely to the sun now. You, as a whole, have not changed except that the gaping wound between your ribs has been allowed to scab over. Your circumstances, in total, have not changed except that the bright, lingering daylight keeps the ghosts from appearing, clears away the dust from all the crevices in your mind.
Maybe, probably, when the earth drifts in its orbit, and the shadows come back long, looming, so too will the haze over your eyes. Maybe, probably, it’ll always be this slow rising and receding of the tides. Maybe, probably, with more time, you can learn how to drift with the waves.
For now, though, you are driving. You are on the road, the wind rushing through your braided hair. The sunset’s glow bathes the highway and all the cars around you, gold and glittering. Up ahead is your exit. When you pull off and stop at a light, you reach for your phone and redial your last call.
“Hey,” you say when it’s answered. “I’ll be there in maybe ten minutes.”
“See? Here you are.”
The light turns green, and you pull through, turn onto another road and face the rippling orange sun with its perfect framing in the center of the road. Drive as though this sky-lit path was paved just for you. 
Because it was. 
And, so, here it is. All of it that’s meant just for you.
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this is it. thank you for being here, for sharing this story with me.
enjoy the silence - depeche mode don't think twice, it's all right - bob dylan since u been gone - kelly clarkson silver springs - fleetwood mac aftermath - tricky luna - the smashing pumpkins trouble - coldplay gravity - john mayer lucky star - madonna
there are a few things in this work that i've left ambiguous, left to be interpreted in whichever way makes the most sense to you. how you need them to be. this story in itself is a shell for you to cultivate your own meaning from, really. you are you, here to inhabit this body, to see new things out of old eyes. but there is one thing that's non-negotiable. maybe you can guess what it is. i said it many, many times: all of this, everything that is good and easy and so delicate that it's weightless in your hands, is for you. no matter how many scars fall between the lines of your ribs. no matter how you choose to swallow your pain. you deserve it all. someone to be gentle with you, a place to rest, a way to feel free. anything that appears for you, is for you. there's no mistake.
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crymeariveronceagain · 11 months
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Why do you like writing dark fics?
Is it because you want to point out the darkness in the real world, or for other reasons? Or for this reason + others?
Or just for fun?
Oooh! Excellent question, anon!
There are a couple reasons!
Firstly and foremostly, like you mentioned, the world is ugly. There is darkness all around us and it encroaches ever further. Not a single one of us will ever escape our life without having seen the darkness. Our lives are spent running from the inescapable reality of pain and suffering and death. We are all going do die, some day. We're all going to hurt. We're all going to cry. We're all going to need to keep on living, unafraid to walk the world alone. However, we're here. We're not stuck in tomorrow, nor in yesterday, we're now. And in the now, we hurt and we suffer and we live. Life is pain, and anyone who says differently is selling something. So, tragedy is often closer to reality than comedy. Angst is closer to the heart than fluff. Just as love is closer to the heart than laughter, just as pain is closer to what it means to be human than anything else, so too does reading about those things, seeing them portrayed and expanded on, shows off the fact that the world is hurting. That to be human is to suffer.
Secondly, I want to hold everyone's hand as they walk into the dark. I can't. So instead, I often will find myself writing what makes sad people feel less sad, lonely people less alone, hurting people comforted. Because there is something about seeing your suffering in another that lets you know that you're not alone. I cannot hold everyone's hands, but I can look them in the eyes with my writing and say, "Hey, you know what you're feeling? You know the inescapable nature of your own suffering? You know the struggle and the hurt and the ache inside that will not ever go away? Yeah. I know it too. I'll love you the whole time you cry." There's really truly something about seeing yourself in broken people that makes you feel like everything will be alright, someday. I don't know what it is.
Lastly, it's because I'm extremely partial to the American Gothic tradition of literature. It's my favorite. Give me scary stories, sad stories, weird and twisted stories. I especially love Southern Gothic. It's so good. I love tragedy, I love watching a doomed hero fall or have to pick themselves up in the aftermath of one. It's beautiful and cathartic and it makes me feel something beautiful, inside. Also, as far as the actual genre of my writing, 90% of my works are comedies according to the Ancient Greek idea of what a comedy is. Just because they deal with heavy subjects doesn't make their happy endings worth any less.
Finally, my favorite author, Flannery O'Connor(one of THE BEST Southern gothic writers, oh my stars) has a really great quote about her writing that I find also really applies to mine, on far too often an occasion, "Most of us have learned how to be dispassionate about evil, to look it in the face and find, as often as not, our own grinning reflections with which we do not argue, but good is another matter. Few have stared at that long enough to accept the fact that its face too is grotesque, that in us the good is something under construction. The modes of evil usually receive worthy expression. The modes of good have to be satisfied with a cliche or a smoothing down that will have to soften their real look"(1960). I've never been one to smooth down good. I don't do cliches, I don't write happy little fluffy stories. I write aching, terrible, hard to bear truth. I write stories where people cry, where people love, where people suffer, and yet, more often than not, they still get their happy ending. They get a new community. They get a family. They get the love of the one person they've ever wanted. Good is not always easy to look at. In fact, good is harder, sometimes, to look at, than evil. But good is always under construction. So, really, that's what you see in my works. It's not necessarily darkness, but rather good, true good, that's under endless construction. It's in battle with evil, constantly, and it triumphs, but not before evil looks like it has won. That's the joy of it, to be faced with demise but wind up in love with everything and in love with this broken, beautiful world, and everyone in it! Stars, come out of my stories in love with people, in love with yourself, in love with the world around you, free and hopeful and with eyes cleared by the tears you shed along the way. Stars above. That's all I want to write. Stories that wash your eyes clear with the tears that you shed. Stories that give you hope and strength to carry on. That's why I write the way I do.
Anyways, I also will quietly put it out there, that I used to write much darker things than what is on my ao3 account right now. I've become more mellow with age. Hah!
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okamirayne · 1 year
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Some random Qs for you! 1. What are your fave fanfic tropes/ao3 tags and why? guilty pleasure or otherwise. I’m a sucker for angst with a happy ending or pretty much any popular trope that’s angsty 2. Do you have any sort of process when it comes to developing a character, or getting into the characters head? What does that look like? 3. I see those merlin gifs you be posting, is that new? Tell me why you love them Rayne. ❤️Lots of love from someone whose been a fan for over 10 years❤️
Well hello there, my lovely Random Q Anon! ❤️ Thanks for swinging by my happy haunt. I hope this reply finds you well. ^_^
1. What are your fave fanfic tropes/ao3 tags and why? guilty pleasure or otherwise.
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Oh, like you, Anon, I too worship at the Altar of Angst.
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While I'm paying my respects at said altar, throw me some hurt/comfort; a meaty slow burn; time-honoured 'enemies to lovers'; great humour; bromance; intimate m/m slashy goodness with some raw yang energy and I'm all but singing Hozier's "Take me to Church."
As for why? Well, combine all those things together and for me it creates a rich and dynamic experience I can really sink my teeth into. Sure, PWP can be fun, a quick-hit pick-me-up...but it often leaves me jonesing for the stronger stuff. Because I do love layered intimacy in the fics I read, especially with the m/m slash pairings. The edge of vulnerability that never loses its capacity to turn, like a blade, from smooth steel to the razor’s edge...then back again...
From something as intimate as this...
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...to this....
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....to this....
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I especially gravitate towards such a dynamic when reading my m/m pairings. And you'll probably notice most of these pairings (90%) are with warrior/soldier archetypes.
They are my sweet remedial poison.
As for the altar, there's something about the angst that nourishes me. And ruins me. I'm pretty sure there's some eloquent quote about that delicious interplay and the feeling it evokes. Don't get me wrong, I hate when things slide into emo-depresso mode. There's a difference between depth and darkness. I like the deep. Doesn't always have to be dark.
2. Do you have any sort of process when it comes to developing a character, or getting into the characters head? What does that look like?
It looks like headphones on, eyes closed (or vacant stare, ha, either works as I zone out)....and total immersion into the character. Obviously this varies depending on whether I am tackling an OC or whether I'm writing fanfic. The former is a hell of a lot more immersive for me. The latter involves getting into their established trivia/meat and digging under their skin. OCs require a whole different level of madness from me. I need to get in their bones and their blood...and yeah, I realise how sadomasochistic I'm sounding right about now. But it's true. Unless I have a physical ache in my body where my OCs carry their wounds, their ghosts, or their shadows, I'm not satisfied I can do them justice on the page. So yeah, certifiable processes are required for me to channel that. 🤪
3. I see those merlin gifs you be posting, is that new? Tell me why you love them Rayne. ❤️
...Tell me what you love, it'll tell me who you are, right? *head-tilt* You're intriguing me, Anon. Have we spoken before? 10 years is a long time to be a stranger, friend. I'm honoured and happy you've reached out to me here...assuming you haven't before. You feel oddly familiar to me. And yeah, that is your cue to run far, run fast! *laughs*
Right you are. My Merlin indulgence is indeed new. And ah...why do I love them?
Here we go...
Because I never expected to. I literally went into this show for the mindlessness of old-school, corny-as-hell escapism -- I did not expect to fall for the characters
Because I love the sudden unguarded ways they will look at each other -- even if the writers are playing to the fanbase ;)
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I love what they bring out in each other
I love what they challenge in each other
I ache for the tragedy and secrets surrounding them
I adore the loyalty they exhibit; Merlin's devotion and Arthur's protectiveness...it belies the arrogant neglectful way Arthur behaves and hits on his deeper nature, beneath the princely surface
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I love Merlin's depth of feeling in all things (seriously, this actor draws me in with his capacity to convey emotion without a damn word) and how his sensitivity does not in any way diminish his strength -- the secrets he has to keep from Arthur are heart-rending at times
I love how hard Arthur clings to his pride and arrogance whilst his vulnerability often betrays him; in his eyes, his sudden rough humour, or in his unconscious actions.
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Their banter is good fun; especially the re-direct when things get too intimate or familiar, namely for Arthur.
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I love their integrity as people and how that integrity causes them to infuriate one another yet also how it cements them closer together
...I'm sure there are more reasons. I'm not yet finished with the series...so there will undoubtedly be more.
Look at that gushy list. You can tell I'm swimming in the feels of these two at the moment.
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Thank you for letting me share what I found in those depths. ❤️
Big love, hugs, and appreciation for you, Anon...over a decade's worth of it, given how long you've been a friendly presence in the wings. Bless you, and thank you, for letting me catch a glimpse of you ❤️.
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ikamigami · 1 year
Text
Chapter 4 is here!
Title: Dark clouds
Rating: M (heavy topics and very mild language)
Characters for chapter 4: Sun, Lunar (Moon and Eclipse only mentioned; some mention of other animatronics)
TW for chapter 4: self-harm, self-harm aftermath, suicide attempt aftermath, intrusive thoughts, self-depreciation, self-hatred, self-disgust, graphic depiction of gore, dreams related to suicide (I hope I didn't overlooked anything)
Feel free to point any language mistakes or lack of sense in sentences (cause English isn't my native language. I only wrote it in English because I wanted to share this with as many fans I could). Positive criticism is welcomed. Please don't be rude. And don't come at me for how I depicted characters because this is my interpratation of them.
Chapter 3  Chapter 4.5
Chapter 4 - Denial
Sun was working only for an hour but he already started feeling first signs of weariness. As always taking care of kids was very demanding. He felt like he was barely keeping up. But neither Lunar nor kids didn't notice anything. Or even if they did, they did nothing about it. He tried his best to not slack at work. But it was really hard to do with the constant waves of pain surging from his neck throughout his whole body. He tried not to flinch at every jolt of pain. And he also tried not to hiss and swear with every major movement he had to do. He attempted to hold his head straight but with no avail. It was simply impossible to do when you must pay attention to what every kid is doing in the Daycare. Yet, somehow he managed to do everything without raising any suspicions towards himself. The day barely started and Sun didn't know what to do about the pain. It was on entirely new level compared to what he usually dealt with. He couldn't just simply start working mindlessly like he always did. Turning off thinking didn't seem to help in this case. Usually engaging in kids activities didn't require from him any deeper thinking or anything like that. Most of the time when he was feeling pain he still was able to work even if on almost automatic mode. He wasn't even afraid that he wouldn't notice that some kid might be in danger then because he developed some kind of six sense when it comes to this type of things. It was probably from years of experience with working with kids or maybe it was like that just due to his programming. In other words he didn't need to think when he was working at the Daycare. And most of the time playing with kids made Sun feel better. It filled his heart (even if he doesn't technically has one) with joy which let him forget about any problems he had to deal with outside of work. Except that one time when you screwed everything up royally.
The images of July 16th massacre from his nightmare... No. The images of July 16th massacre he did... resurfaced in his mind briefly at the reminder. Sun froze in place for a moment. But he quickly regained himself. He tried his best not to focus on those painful memories. But they still kept resurfacing. The harder he tried to push them back, the more they intruded his mind. He tried his best not to whine or flinch every time the blood and gore from that day flashed before his eyes. He felt like he was barely holding his "gastric" contents intact. He tried really hard not to gagg from all those nauseating memories. Calm down... Calm down... He tried to ease his nerves even just a little. Unfortunately it didn't work. Everything began to blurr. The screams of joy coming from kids were intermixing with the screams of terror from the nightm- from his memories. Sun wasn't sure anymore if any of the kids got hurt or if it was only just his imagination. His senses were tricking him. To make sure that he didn't miss anything bad happening at the Daycare (and that he didn't act suspicious), he tried to maintain focus on every detail. But the harder he tried to stay focused, the more the pain reared its ugly head. After half a day the pain became so unbearable that it was very hard for him to maintain focus which was what caused the increase of said pain in the first place, ironically. But Sun wasn't laughing. He wanted to curl in himself and cry. It was a miracle that no one noticed that something was going on with him. Ha ha... It's always like that... Better to have it like that than to draw attention to yourself, you disgusting piece of shit. Yeah... right... The mere thought of the possibility of the situation in which he would have to explain himself and tell about what happened last night made his skin crawl and his stomach churn. He wanted to puke so badly. But he somewhat managed not to.
Everything went surprisingly... fine. It was closer to the naptime. Despite Sun having a massive headache and the fact that he couldn't feel his own neck, he didn't draw any attention to himself. He felt almost like his head could fall off at any moment. He wasn't even sure if his head was still holding onto his neck or if it was just barely hanging. But no one had pointed fingers at him with fear or shock which could indicate that something bad was going on. So he could safely assume that everything was fine. Even though he was feeling very far from fine. Than maybe it isn't really that bad, huh? You've never thought about that. Ha! How could I forgot that you're that much stupid and self absorbed to the point that you wouldn't even think about the very highly possible scenerio in which you're just exaggerating! What a pussy! ...yeah... What was I thinking..? Sun looked at his hands in which he was holding something round and squishy..? ..?.. For the brief moment he thought that it was child's head. He gasped soundlessly. I-it i-it it-t... c-ca-ca-ca-c-can'...t-t-t... He found himself unable to breath. Only when he dropped this thing, he realised that it wasn't... child's head... or any head in particular. It was just completely normal and very ordinarily looking rubber ball. The state of shock he was in lasted merely for a split second. But for Sun it felt like whole ages passed before his eyes. The ball rolled under one of the installations. He blinked slowly few times to clear his vision. Only then he noticed that some kid was staring mindlessly at him.
- You missed... - little boy had spoken - ..?.. wha... - Sun couldn't wrap his head around what this kid was talking about. - You missed. - boy repeated - You were supposed to throw it to me. - he added with visible pout on his face. Sun still didn't know what exactly was going on but he decided to get along with whatever this kid told him they were doing.
- Y-yeah..! You're right..! Um... It's just... I didn't want to use my super robotic strength! - he said that while showing of his nonexistent biceps on his right arm. The kid smirked at the statement and said firmly - We all know that you're weaker than a baby! - Wha..?! - W-who said that..?! - Sun was shaken by the brat's words.
- Moon... Jessie, Alan, Lucas... ee... and... and... many other kids... and... em... Even Lunar said that! - the boy was bouncing on his feet when he was saying all of this and when he said Lunar's name, he pointed vigorously in direction where mentioned animatronic stood. Sun was shocked by these words but only just a little because he realised that he was too tired to give a damn about it. He still instinctively wanted to turn his head into pointed direction though. But the sudden spark of pain from his neck reminded him just in time not to do that. Sun pouted at those revelations and then approached the installation where the ball rolled under.
He crouched slowly onto the rubber floor and tried to reach the ball with his right hand, very carefully not to provoke any sudden increase of pain. But with no avail. He began to slowly lose his vision. White dots started dancing in front of his eyes. But he kept going. He didn't want to ask for help because it could draw unnecessary attention towards him. Which could lead to questioning him. And that could lead to asking him about what happened. And then he would have to say about last night's events and he would have to do a lot of explaining etc. etc. And he definitely was better off without all the chaos it would cause. When he was still thinking about possible consequences of him asking for help, he felt sudden jolt of pain coming from his neck. He tried not to do any reaction. But it was impossible. Sun felt like he had a neck spasm. Even though he couldn't technically have it. He let out strangled cry. He couldn't even move. He lie on the rubber floor and began shaking uncontrollably. He was breathing spasmodically and groaning from time to time. The pain wouldn't go away. It only kept growing till it became excruciatingly unbearable. And on top of that he couldn't see anything. The pain completely blinded him.
Sun didn't know how long he was lying there till he felt light touch on his skin on his left hand. He didn't even hear that someone approached him. He was only feeling that light touch. It was moving gently from his hand up to his arm. Then it stopped. He waited for the touch to do something. But nothing happened. Then all of the sudden he felt that something was pulling him. The movement caused him so much pain. It hurt him like hell. He let out a loud shriek. The movement stopped. Sun was breathing heavily like he had run a marathon just a moment ago. He felt like his head was going to explode. Then suddenly something rolled him over. The pounding in his head was replaced by loud ringing. He felt like his body was heating and freezing alternately. The pain became so unbearable he could lose consciousness at any moment. But the sudden touch to his skin on his face made him feel as if someone put an ice bag on it. The chill went down his spine. It dulled the pain a little. He still couldn't see nor hear anything. But it cleared his head for a moment. He barely managed to wheezed out Lunar's name before he lost his consciousness.
Sun was preparing for work. He was almost done. Only some last touches left. He adjusted his clothes one last time and looked at the mirror. The reflection he saw petrified him. He exhaled with a loud hiss. It can't be..? He blinked slowly few times being confused at the sight. Am I dreaming..? He raised his right hand and touched his face. His skin was soft and smooth. He looked at the hand he lifted up. It was human hand. Very skinny with telescopic long fingers but still human nonetheless. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror once again. He saw a round face with protruding cheekbones. His cheeks were bright red. The smile plastered on his face showed his deep dimples which made his cheeks seem even more red. My face looks so stupid with this smile. His slightly crooked teeth made it even worse. He didn't like his smile. He winced a little at that and made an eye contact with his own reflection. What he saw made him twist his face with an aversion. He looked like he had a cataract on his eyes. Plus they were small deep- and wide-set. And almost nonexistent eyebrows didn't help his looks either. Why I have to look so disgusting? It grossed him out. Then he lowered his gaze a bit. He had very bulbous conk with long pointy tip. He shrinked at what he saw. His nose looked like something out of caricature. Then he looked up on top of his head. He had blond disheveled hair with split ends. Some of his strands looked like they were clumped together. Gross... I look terrible! Why I am so ugly?! He tried to regain his focus once again. There were more important things he should think about. He looked at his face once more. It was human face (even if ugly). He lifted up his second hand. That also belonged to human. Which meant that he was human. Sun was human. He made a face at his own reflection. He was tall and skinny which made his face look like it was bigger than in reality. He looked like some kind of abomination taken straight out from comic books. It doesn't matter. I should've start my shift already. He readjusted his lab coat once again and was ready to leave. He gave quick glance at his hideous reflection one last time before he closed the door behind himself.
He got on the elevator. He couldn't focus on anything. He felt like he was about to get sick. His vision became fuzzy. He was so tired. He slowly began to feel more and more sleepy. He didn't even realise when he dozed off. The sudden bump woke him up. He was standing in front of an archive room. He couldn't remember how he found himself there. But he could've sworn that he was in elevator just a moment ago. He shook his head dismissively. Stop thinking about nonsensical things! He reprimanded himself. It doesn't matter! Get back to work! He stretched his arms to set the archival files up on the shelf. He stared at his hands involuntarily, then his gaze shifted to his wrists. And suddenly out of nowhere some really messed up thoughts intruded his mind. My wrists are so thin... and so frail... What if... something sharp would cut through them..? It would be so easy to do that... down to the bone... so easy... How much blood would come out..? So much... so much... so easy... so much... too much... too easy... too much..! too easy..! Suddenly he saw the cut on his left wrist. Drops of blood started to seep through it. Then they became a thin trickle which was broadening out with passing seconds. Same was with the other hand. Sun was blinking rapidly at the bizarre yet terrifying sight. His hands began slightly shaking. He started to take short shallow breaths. He pulled his hands closer to himself but didn't do anything else. He stood frozen in one place. Blood flowed in streams and cuts were opening more and more till bones became visible. Blood was seeping into his clothes and staining them increasingly. Sun was losing blood fast. Everything was happening so quickly. Too quickly. He began to panic. He tried his best to stop the flow, to cover the wounds. But it didn't do much if anything. He was trembling miserably at that point. He broke crying. I can't... I-I can't... I can't s-s-stop it... I-it it-t f-f-flows f-flows t-to f-fast... He slowly began losing consciousness. After few moments he felt very lightheaded and everything around him became so blurry. He slowly sat at the concrete floor and curled in himself. He could feel that his body was slowly losing heat. His vision was narrowing until darkness overcame him completely.
Sun woke up standing in giant dark hall. He couldn't remember what exactly had happened. He probably dozed off for a moment. He was blinking slowly to adjust his vision to small amount of light. The light was seeping through small windows placed at the top of each wall. After awhile he started to see the outlines of some things which were placed across whole hall. It looked like they were standing on some kind of pedestals because they were placed weirdly too high to be standing on their own. Only after few moments later he was able to see that those things were placed on different heights. Too different for it to be considered as some type of method of organising things. The outlines became more clear. They look oddly familiar. When Sun was wondering what those things reminded him of, he realised that they weren't standing on any pedestals. They weren't standing on anything in particular. They were floating in the air. No... They aren't floating... I can see something... something coming from above them... No. He worded it wrongly. They are... hanging... on something... No. Not something. He began to see everything more clearly. They're hanging on the... ropes..?! He felt like the ice-cold shiver ran down his spine. Only then he remembered what those shapes reminded him of. After realisation he began to see everything clearly. Those things were in fact human bodies. Human bodies hanging from above. And there were plenty of them. Dead bodies were hanging across whole hall. Sun began to tremble terrified by what he saw. Then all of a sudden the light became brighter which allowed him to see that there was one empty rope hanging in the middle of the hall. The light shone directly at it. It felt like it was calling him to come closer. Despite the overwhelming fear he was feeling, Sun was never in his whole life been so tempted to do anything as at that moment. He began slowly approaching the lonely rope. As he was reaching closer to it, he started to hear voice which was chanting to his ear things that would make more than one person blood run cold. Why are you still alive? Why do you keep making others suffer? Why don't you end misery of others? Why don't you just kill yourself? How dare you? You're so selfish! How dare you? You don't deserve anything! How dare you? Stop pitying yourself! How dare you?! How dare you?! How dare you?! Only then Sun realised that those bodies which were hanging there belonged to those who he killed. Children, that agent, those guards to name a few. And there were also bodies which belonged to those who he was killing bit by bit by his mere existence. His brothers (Moon and Lunar), Roxanne, Gregory, Monty, Freddy and many many others. They were all there.
He finally reached his destination. The urge to do as the voice said was overwhelmingly unbearable. He didn't have to even grab the rope as it was moving on its own. It slowly wrapped around his neck like a snake ready to squeez the life out of its prey. Despite that he still was slightly afraid of what was about to happen he felt somewhat numb as snake-like rope was squeezing the living daylights out of him. He thought that he was even more afraid of the fact that he finally accepted his fate rather than dying in itself. Then he felt that snake-like rope began slowly pulling him up which sped up the suffocation process. He was dying slowly and painfully as the voice kept chanting his sins and wrong-doings. No one should pity me. No one should care about me. No one should love me. It shouldn't matter. I shouldn't matter. I don't deserve anything. I don't deserve to live. These were the last thoughts he had before he lost consciousness.
Sun woke up puzzled. He didn't remember what had happened. At first he thought that he didn't die and that him being hanged was only just a dream. Looking at ceiling he thought that he still was in the archive room. But with senses coming back to him, he realised that he wasn't human anymore. He was a robot. No. That wasn't even that. He was robot once again. When his senses came back to him fully, he realised that he was wrong all along. He never was human. And he wasn't robot once again. In fact he always has been a robot. He was dreaming. It was just a dream. Or rather nightmare. He didn't die, to his own relief. And in fact he wouldn't die from simply being hanged. Because It's not so easy to kill a robot. It reminded him of last night's events once again though. It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter. Nothing had happened. Nothing would happen. He tried as hard as he could to ignore the fact that he had this nightmare solely because of what he tried to do to himself last night. But in fact he was really afraid to admit to himself that what he tried to do would have very negative imapct on others which he was fully aware of. And that's what terrified him the most. He tried to do the most selfish thing which would cause suffering to his close ones. So, he really was the worst, huh? He was about to cry but he felt sudden surge of pain. His neck pain began to slowly get back to him. But that wasn't the worst thing because all of the sudden he saw that something was slowly approaching him from the shadows of the ceiling. His heart skipped at the sight. He definitely was hallucinating. It had to be like that. It couldn't be what he thought it was. Th-th-there are n-n-no ro-opes c-c-coming f-f-from the c-c-ceiling in m-m-my ro-room... He was terrified at the thought. He tried his best to stand up from his bed (which he realised he was lying on it only moments ago). But he stood up too fast which made him dizzy which in turn made him nauseous. He gagged but luckily for him nothing came out of it. He could barely stand on his feet. He was swaying terribly. He had to hold onto something quickly before he fall down. He leaped at a dollhouse nearby his bed. The pain made him gagg once again but he didn't vomit anything. He was breathing heavily and felt like he was about to get sick.
He tried to compose himself not to draw any suspicions towards himself. He kept holding dearly onto dollhouse's roof. But then he was snapped out of his thoughts by a high voice which belonged to Lunar.
- Um... I see that you feel better now... - the Moon's second half said carefully. - Ee... but... what are you doing... near m- a-a dollhouse..? - he stuttered a little.
Sun felt like the heat went through his whole body. He wanted to puke so badly at the moment. But he managed somehow not to do that.
- Um... - he knew that he should turn around to stand face to face with Lunar so the latter wouldn't get suspicious of him. But he felt like he couldn't do it. Yet he still tried his best to do that. - I-I wanted t-to make sure t-that everything i-is clean..! - he tried to sound as casual as he could.
- Oh, okay... - So he bought it..? Sun wasn't sure about that. - Um... I wanted to ask you... how are you... feeling..? Because you screamed in pain and then you passed out and I didn't exactly know what to do and... and...! - Lunar was visibly shaken by what happened.
- E-easy..! L-lunar..! It's okay..! I'm fine..! N-nothing happened..! I-I just..! S-something h-hurt in my arm..! Y-yes... arm..! I-it's just... ee... I'm... I'm... not..! I'm not s-stretched enough.., ya see..?! - He said that while showing of his arm and shaking it to prove his point. How stupid can you actually be? Really? You're not stretched enough? You're fucking robot! Wake up, you imbecile! What a pathetic excuse. Sun was praying that Lunar would buy it though.
- Oh, I see... Hmm... If you want any... help... or some- anything else... erm... You can always ask me..! Ee... so... so I-I need to go..! The naptime will be over soon and... um... the children must to be sent back to their parents..! They will be here any moment now..! But I'll take care of it on my own..! Because you should rest..! Even if you said you're fine... you should still rest..! And don't say no! Em... I-I I'll better go... - after he said that, he stormed out of their room. Sun didn't even have time to say anything back. Lunar sounded very determined even if it was visibly obvious that he felt uncomfortable around Sun. He probably still thinks that I don't like him... Because it's true. ........ Sun didn't respond to that because he didn't know how. He didn't feel like he didn't like Lunar but at the same time he knew that he felt a little bit (very) of jealous over Lunar. He shrinked a little at that. He didn't want to be so awful toward Lunar but here he was all bad and horrible. Is it really that much visible..? That I am... a terrible pers- trash..?! You see... You just got to the point when your shit became really hard to keep in. He felt nauseous at this thought. ...... He started taking heavy shallow breaths. He basically felt like it was too hard to breath. And don't forget that you look like Eclipse. Sun felt like he was about to throw up once more. But he managed to keep his "gastric" contents intact. Yeah... I look like Eclipse... ..... Eclipse... ..?.. I kinda... I didn't kill... him exactly... But... I tried... nonetheless... Sun sighed heavily. He felt growing tightness in his chest. I feel like I could've done more... to... to... stop him... or maybe... even help... him..? He felt pang in his heart. And... and... he was... right... about... me... ..... And I deserved what he had done to me..! So..! So... If only... I could keep him in... But you couldn't. Because you can't do anything. You're good for nothing. And imagine if it would turn out that YOU were the reason behind why Eclipse acted like he acted. Sun's stomach flipped. His vision became fuzzy. He began breathing very heavily. What if... I... I was a... was a... reason... for Eclipse's... behaviour... He started to gagg immidiately at this thought. To stop himself from throwing up he decided to get back to his bed. He reached it barely on shaky feet. He collapsed heavily on his bed. It caused a sudden shot of sharp pain in his neck. He swore under his breath. He gagged once again. He pressed his face onto his pillow despite the pain it caused him. You wouldn't have to deal with the pain if you didn't try to "end your life" so miserably. The voice said the part about "ending his life" mockingly. Suck it up if you don't want to draw unnecessary attention to yourself, you disgusting fucker. Attention whore! Sun felt like he was going to cry but he knew exactly that the voice was absolutely right. It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter. Nothing had happened. Nothing would happen. It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter. Nothing had happened. Nothing would happen. It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter. Nothing had happened. Nothing would happen. And so on and so on. It somehow made him feel... better..? He slowly got up from his bed and started preparing for helping Lunar to clean the Daycare. He knew what he had to do. He was going to fake till he would make it. No more pitying myself! No more being such a cowardly pussy! He just decided to keep repeating to himself that if it shouldn't matter, he also shouldn't matter and that no one should care about him thus he himself shouldn't care about himself anymore. It doesn't matter. I don't matter. It shouldn't matter. I shouldn't matter. No one should care. I shouldn't care. These weird thoughts even if they hurt Sun a little, gave him energy to keep going. Maybe it wasn't good for him. But what was bad for him, was actually good for him, wasn't it? Because what else, but bad things, did someone as awful as him deserve? With these intoxicating his mind thoughts Sun went straight to help Lunar with Daycare before Moon would have to go for another “searching for Eclipse’s backups” round.
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sarcastic-salem · 1 year
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Snack Time
Note: This is just a silly one shot I wrote about me and Loki. There is no real rhyme or reason to it. The flow might be a bit off, and I cried while writing it.
It is based off my real life and personal relationship with Loki. I am a Godspouse, so there are romantic (but not sexual) elements. If that’s something you’re not okay with then you may as well keep scrolling👍🏻
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I was relaxing on the lounge under the fluffy down comforter when I heard Loki pop in. I smiled up at him as he bent down to peck me on the lips. He had blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled, a gold ring in his nose, and black studded spacers in his ears. He was wearing his ginger hair in an intricately woven, fishtail braid that fell over his shoulder with a yellow daisy barrette hanging from the bottom. The braid fell over the shoulder of a fluffy, forest green knitted sweater that I thought Sigyn must have made for him.
Or maybe he had made it himself — he had invented the fishing net after all.
“Hello, lovely,” Loki smiled down at me.
I reached out and wove my fingers between his. A chainlink bracelet dangled from his wrist and he was wearing rings made from various metals and stones on each of his fingers. A tattoo of a snake peaked out from beneath the sleeve of his sweater. “Hey, Lokes,” I said somewhat breathlessly.
After all this time, I was still surprised that he had chosen me to be with even for a fraction of a second.
He kissed me a second time and then a third quickly before pulling away. “Can I sit with you?”
“Oh, of course,” I said jumping to my feet. How could I have left him just standing there? I wondered. I couldn’t believe I had been so dumb.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Loki chuckled. He reached across the lounge and lifted me, bridal style, in one swift movement. Then he sat down, pulling me into his lap. “How have you been?” He smiled down at me.
I reached out to finger the edge of his braid. “Bored,” I said simply.
“Oh?” Loki said with raised eyebrows. “What have you been doing all day?”
I felt the blood drain from my face. Loki didn’t care how I spent my time, but I knew he’d be disappointed when he found out I’d spent the whole day on social media. We both agreed that it wasn’t great for my mental health, but I couldn’t help but feel like social media was the only place I truly existed. All of my friends were online, social media had helped me learn things about myself that I never would have known without, and it let vent my frustrations and share my thoughts with likeminded people. I wasn’t close to my family and I didn’t know how to make friends, especially not while I was recovering from agoraphobia.
If I died, my social media accounts would be the only things I’d left behind, I realized feeling shame seep into my bones.
“Milo?” Loki reached out to brush my hair out of my face and startled, I couldn’t help but pull away. He instantly withdrew his hand. “Hey,” he said sweetly, calmly. “Easy, love — its just me.” I nodded as I remembered he would never hurt me. He reached out again. “Can I—“
I took his hand and pulled it towards me, leaning into his touched when he placed it against my cheek. “I’m sorry,” I whimpered as his calloused thumb traced the line of my cheekbone.
I had struggled for years with my PTSD — first because of growing up with my mom, and now because of several failed abusive relationships and assaults. Sometimes I would flinch when my cats jumped on me or if I saw a dark object out of the corner of my eye or if someone approached me while I was thinking or reading. It wasn’t on purpose — it was no one’s fault, definitely not Loki’s.
It was just me — I lived constantly in fight or flight mode.
Loki frowned and said, “Tell me what’s wrong, baby.” He was like this when I got scared, more dominant. Paternal almost.
If I was anxious or depressed there was a higher chance of me regressing into what we had come to call dark littlespace. By reading online, I had realized it was a mindset triggered by trauma. When I felt this way, I couldn’t help but curl up and cry like a small child. I would fixate on traumatic moments from my childhood and adolescence. Then reach for my cats or a pillow or a stuffed animal, overwhelmed with too much depression and shame and fear to think logically.
Sometimes it was better to have Loki there to help me think through what the next best step would be. To ease me back into the world of adulthood, and to keep me from hurting myself when I was small.
I pressed my head against his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’m wasting my life….” I told him.
Loki pulled away as he wrapped his arms my waist. “How much time did you spend online today?” He asked knowingly, sympathetically. Loki was by far the most understanding of all the Gods. “Did you eat yet?” He poked me gently in the stomach with his index finger.
“Loki…” I whined even though I knew he was right. My mood was always worse when I skipped meals and I’d spent the past few days living mostly off of coffee.
“C’mon,” Loki sighed, getting to his feet and pulling me by the hand into the cluttered kitchen.
It was a galley kitchen with no room for a table and a breakfast bar so tiny it only fit one barstool. A utility rack with three shelves held spices and bread and condiments and mixing bowls because there wasn’t enough cupboard space. It was one of my least favorite rooms in the house.
“Ok, let’s see,” Loki said, pulling open a cupboard that was full of mismatched dishware. He grabbed a sage green bowl and pulled a spoon out of the utensil drawer. He smiled down at me. “You want to or should I?”
“I’ll do it.” I took the dishes from him, although I could really only make cold cereal or microwave meals when I was regressed. I grabbed a box of Cocoa Krispies.
“That’s a good girl,” Loki said, kissing the top of my head. He had a million pet names for me, most of which I had picked out. I loved all of them, but he would switch to another if I wasn’t in the mood for one.
“I love you,” I told him, smiling.
He leaned down and kissed me again. “I love you, too, my little one.”
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imptwins · 1 year
Text
Another Stranger Me
Another Stranger Me is up first for my fic reposts on here. Start nice and gentle, y’know? Plus, as a finished project (at least until Ch3-5 come out and likely reignite my desire to spread this AU/hc) it’s one of the single pieces I’m most happy with.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/38792208
♥ Fandom: Deltarune ♥ Rating: Teen ♥ 2nd Person POV ♥ Words: 18,848 ♥ Finished (for now lol) ♥ CW: Temporary moderate transphobia (misgendering, invalidation) from the POV character, fairly surface-level transphobia exploration ♥ Themes: Egg cracking, coming out, queer/trans mentorship, angst, hurt/comfort
When every moment is spent in survival mode, when all of your existence is a constant formless haze of anger and frustration and loathing and disgust, sometimes it takes a little outside help to realize what should have been obvious. A young dragon gets sucked into an ancient prophecy of legendary heroes with someone they absolutely detest, but the biggest revelation in that fantastical world is far more important and far more mundane.
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Preview: 
"Welcome, Heroes...!"
It almost makes you jump. Okay, maybe it makes you jump a little.
"Who's there?!" you bark, fists clenching in preparation for another fight. Or another running the hell away session, same thing.
"Do not be alarmed," the voice continues. "I am not your enemy. Please come forward, both of you."
Of course you're fucking alarmed, this whole ordeal has been nonstop bizarre bullshit. But then the last person to assault you hadn't bothered to give you any warning, and besides, surely such a soft, gentle voice couldn't belong to anything but a wimp. As you and Kris walk forward you spot a figure completely obscured by a brown cloak standing in the middle of the room, just outside what looks like the door to the actual castle interior.
"Welcome," they say, their voice still projecting far more than it should for its quiet owner. "I am the Prince of this Kingdom... The Kingdom of Darkness. Kris, Susie, there is a LEGEND-"
"What the fuck did you just call me?" you wheeze out. You have to strangle the words out of yourself. You feel like you've been winded, like someone slammed you in the stomach with a baseball bat and knocked every last wisp of oxygen out of you. Your mouth is dry. Nobody could know that name. You've never told a single fucking soul that name.
"Uh... Is your name not Susie?" the figure asks in a clearly panicked voice while feeling like they're looking at you. "I was, um. I was under the impression that, uh, you would be named Susie." Beside you Kris glances over with those piercing ruby eyes, but says nothing, conveys nothing in their expression.
"My name is..." you grunt out from the effort and trail off. You don't want to say it. You're in some weird-ass alien world, or you're hallucinating, or you're dead and just imagining things. Maybe you're in fucking Narnia. Either way, you're away from class, away from that stupid roll call every morning, away from Alphys and the other students and your mother and the shadow of your father. Your body is different. Maybe Susie wouldn't be such a stupid name with this body...?
The only one who knows who you are is Kris. You glance at him again and he's still got that same expression, piercing but neutral. No laughing, no sneering, no mockingly raised eyebrow. None of the reactions you would have ever expected.
"... It's fine," he says softly after you've been staring for what feels like minutes. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't have to. The temptation grips onto that tiny assurance and, while your guard is down, you blurt out the words before you can even think of stopping yourself.
"Nah. My name's Susie," you say. You try to sound dismissive, casual, totally nonchalant. Kris' gaze lingers on you a moment longer before he looks back ahead to the robed figure with what you could have sworn was a smile. The figure looks at you for a moment longer then continues as if they never stopped.
They're going off about some prophecy of light and darkness or whatever, some real cliche shit. You barely hear a word. You think about how nobody could know that name because you've only ever thought of it when you imagined what it would've been like to be a girl. You used it in the videogames that people used to sometimes lend you, before you started growing into such a fucking brute that people were terrified of you on appearance alone. Any time you had to name a girl, or had the opportunity to create one. You used it in stories and for drawings you have hidden under stacks of sheets in your room, locked in an old plastic tool box along with some other things you don't want anyone seeing, that nobody has or will ever see.
You never thought anyone would ever use that name for you, and you certainly never thought it would make you feel so warm, so full, so light, as if letting out a breath you'd been holding for as long as you could remember.
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hearts-and-stars · 1 year
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1, 5, 10, 12, and 13 for ur new love Isaac! 💜💚
im not gunna lie i got so flustered by this oh god-
ty for the ask!! @leasboyfriend
also fair warning i have't finished the game yet nor have i played 2 or 3 so everything is only based off of what i know right now~
1. How does your F/O respond to seeing you hurt or upset? Do they act caring, immediately go into “who do I have to beat up” mode, or both?
It's a mix or both! First reaction is caring and trying to make me feel better/help patch me up, then he's about to blast whoever or whatever hurt me to bits with his trust Plasma Cutter >:)
5. Do you and your F/O sleep together at night? Is there a specific sleeping arrangement? Who hogs the blankets and pillows?
We do! Especially after Nicole left for the job on the Ishi.mura! Prior to her leaving, Isaac would sleep in the middle with Nicole and I on either side of him. He was the eternal middle spoon, which he didn't mind. Meant he could cuddle both of us at once <3
Okay so... We're both pillow/blanket hogs. It is a CONSTANT battle all night long, of which Isaac usually wins lmao.
But then I usually end up using him as a pillow so ha XD
10. What’s your favorite physical feature of your F/O? What about your favorite aspect of their personality?
His eyes and hair are my favorite physical features!!! I lov his ginger hair n his pretty dark brown eyes <333
Favorite aspect of his personality is that hes just... so unphased by anything. Like... Fighting of the necromorphs was scary at first, and then it was just an inconvenience. He was just Not Phased by it at all and I love that about him lmao.
Like, I'm over here, losing my GODAMN mind bc WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON- and he's just... "okay guess this is happening now"
12. What’s your favorite way to be touched by your F/O? Were either of you touch starved before your relationship developed?
H u g s. Big, arms wrapped around each other's whole torso hugs.
I was definitely touch starved, Isaac wasn't. Though, when we started dating he had already been dating Nicole for a little while so he was passed the point of being touch starved.
13. What’s you and your F/O’s morning routine? What about bedtime routine?
Our morning routine (prior to the incident on the Ishimura) is waking up together roughly around the same time (we work together) and say our good mornings. I usually shower first while he goes and gets coffee going for the two of us. He drinks his coffee while I shower and get dressed and then we switch, the two of us doing various tasks while drinking our coffee (checking emails, watching the news, etc.) Once we're both showered and dressed, we usually have about an hour before we have to leave for work, where we just spend time together or send Nicole a quick message before it's time to leave.
Our night/bedtime routine is similar. The MOMENT we both get home we shower. Being mechanical engineers, sometimes we get fucking disgusting. Sometimes its the race to see who gets the shower first, sometimes we just say fuck it and shower together. Some nights after showering and changing into pjs, we'll try to call Nicole and if she answers we'll all talk for a bit before Isaac and I wind down for the night for a bit, usually by watching tv or playing videogames, and then around 11-12 ish we'll go to bed.
And start the same thing over in the mornin~
ty again for the ask!!
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blazingstarship · 2 years
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1, 4, and 11 for the questions that make you think? 👀
— @dark-magical-ships 💙
HEEYYYY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING IN DEAR @dark-magical-ships!!!💙💙💙
1. How does your F/O respond to seeing you hurt or upset? Do they act caring, immediately go into “who do I have to beat up” mode, or both?
Yusei tries to make contact with me and offers comfort first with words. He doesnt like it when Im upset and mostly when I am upset its easily been helped by just saying sweet things to me or an affectionate hug or snuggle time. Yusei cares and want to get whatever makes me upset or hurt me go away. He sure is also the type when he sees a bruise on my body he immediately asks “What happen, who did this?”
Im just like “Honest I have no idea. One day there is nothing and the other day well tada a blue spot. Tho it matches with my eyes dont ya think?”
Joke aside, when someone dares to lay a finger on me, Yus would go “touch her and I knock you out.” And he will.
4. Does your F/O prefer sunny days or rainy days? What about you? Do your preferences match? How do you both handle these days? What do you do together on either of these days?
Yusei doesnt prefer sunny or rainy, specially with duels like no matter the weather its always time for a duel.
Uhmmm tho sunny days (with a normal temperature) is very nice to do stuff outside like driving (I prefer sunny day driving) and walking and outside dates. But with rainy days I like to be mostly inside and just relax. Yusei just works inside and on his runner or repair works he does once in a while and Im just doing my own thing in the same area, and we end up doing something together inside like baking cookies, watch a movie and play the game old fashion way (no disks, no runners…just old school). It kinda became our thing during rainy days.
11. Does your F/O have any creative hobbies? If so, what are they? If you have similar hobbies, do you and your F/O encourage each other or work together at all?
Yusei really likes to create things from scarps and I must say I am impressed how he can make out from all those junk stuff something awesome and functional. While he is great with working with metal and computers, I think he would like to know how to do woodcraft. Im sure he would make wonderful things… We once made something together from scraps and it has a place in our forever home…well our forever garage.
Im more of the type that likes to draw, traditional and digital. I have asked Yus to draw something since he can design whole runners and concepts of engineering. Surprising he isnt such a bad artist, a hidden talent tho! I have asked him to draw me or us together but thats still on hold but not off the table. Tho I have an idea he made a sketch of me but hes just too shy to show or think its not perfect yet.
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jaeminscoffee · 3 years
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Daddy Issues | S. Jn
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Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader
Genre | Smut, fluff
Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]
Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.
a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic
Minors try not to interact! <3
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Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right? 
There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place. 
Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad) 
Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense. 
But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend. 
More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people. 
Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny. 
You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you. 
But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks. 
You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look. 
A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it" 
But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.
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"Y/n." 
You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.
Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing. 
And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.
"Tomorrow at mine." 
It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda. 
Ironic, huh? 
"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night. 
Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"
"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location. 
"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze. 
"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.
"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder. 
"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.
"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming. 
Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.
You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning. 
"Answer me." 
"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement. 
"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"
"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,
"you're what?" 
"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place. 
"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot. 
"I am.. I am a who-"
The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study. 
You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling. 
"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command. 
Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck. 
Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands. 
"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.
You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features. 
The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.
You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking. 
"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode 
Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?" 
"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.
"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions. 
"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you. 
"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,
"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear. 
"Yeah? Did she mention which one?" 
"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in. 
"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck." 
You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?" 
"It's not my fault! You-"
"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed. 
"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"
"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?" 
"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.
"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.
In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum. 
"Say it, Y/n." 
"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad. 
"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"
Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.
"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds. 
"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. 
"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.
"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.
"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers. 
"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.
"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?" 
You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach. 
"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.
"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe. 
Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully. 
You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.." 
You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration, 
"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night. 
You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity. 
Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.
"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly. 
You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!" 
"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock" 
Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad. 
Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."
Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel" 
He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.  
Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace, 
"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm. 
"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast. 
"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you. 
"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper. 
He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name. 
Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure. 
You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls, 
"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for. 
You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed. 
You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him. 
But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side, 
You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad, 
"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???" 
"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"
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redorich · 3 years
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A favorite trope of mine has always been- getting to see another person’s past. Is it some kind of judgment thing by a higher power? Something like Freeze Day from SCTFOE? Person trapped in a nightmare and their nightmare is being projected? Who knows. All that’s important is after months of healing, some of the Hermits get to see exactly what Tommy went through. It shows short clips of him before being happy, the rise and fall of Manburg, Wilbur going insane, the festival, the withers, all of it. Just short clips of these things though. The last clip of the SMP is just Dream’s mask outlined by his green hood saying, “you’ll stay here alone with just me until you learn to be quite and respectful and not fight those who are in power over you. Even if you have to stay out here *forever*.”
This turned into a whole drabble smh xD
((btw @give-grian-rights helped me so thank you))
-------
The remaining hermits aren’t sure what happened. They have no way of knowing. There was a witch involved, Cub thinks, but what their fallen friends must have done to piss her off to the point of getting cursed is beyond their ken. Among those laid out are Cleo, Grian, Xisuma, Zedaph, and Tommy.
Scar and Cub work their Vex magic together to figure out that their friends are trapped in their worst memories. (Etho calls it a Demonic Hell Viewing Illusion, and False smacks him upside the head for the Naruto reference.) Holding hands with a victim pulls you in, but that’s what they’re counting on. Joe’s already wading through Cleo’s nightmare before anyone gets the chance to ask, and Impulse and Tango aren’t far behind doing the same for Zedaph. However, it doesn’t work for Grian, Xisuma, and Tommy; they were found already holding hands. They must have figured something out about the curse before they succumbed to it. All the hermits can do for them, for the time being, is hope.
Tommy, Grian, and Xisuma wake to the smell of sulphur and smoke. The ground is orange and littered with bullets. Grian grabs Tommy’s hand, and Xisuma grabs a discarded rifle. Tommy points his finger up at the top of a mound of scrap metal and dead bodies. There’s a nether portal, except the obsidian is whiter than quartz. That's where they have to go to get out of here.
All around them, demons lurch and shriek and hiss and all sorts of unholy behavior, bodily flinging themselves at the trio as though they know none of them can take the men on their own, and that just by dogpiling them all one of them will get lucky. Xisuma instantly snaps into a professional mode, the way he sometimes does when he's killing zombies but they keep social spawning. He takes up the lead with machine gun fire and grenades, carving a path through the crowd. Grian takes up the rear with a handgun. Neither Xisuma nor Tommy ask why Grian is so comfortable with a gun. They've got more pressing issues.
An imp gets lucky. It's just enough to crack the visor of Xisuma's helmet, and the imp instantly gets mowed down.
"I can't see," Xisuma rasps through gritted teeth.
"Then take the helmet off," Tommy says, cleaving through an enemy with a sharp piece of scrap metal. Grian breathes in sharply. As far as Grian's aware, Xisuma always wears his helmet.
Xisuma goes quiet for a second. "I suppose you've got a point."
The helmet gets dropped to the ground and demon limbs shuffle it away. They don't have time to look at Xisuma's wild brown hair, his purple eyes, the burn scars on his jaw.
They make it to the portal all in one piece. Xisuma takes one last wistful look at the Martian hellscape, then takes his friends' hands. They step through the portal together.
----
They step out of the portal into the foyer of a high school. Grian's eyes shutter.
"We'll be headed toward the roof, I believe," he says, staring dully through the spectre of a broken, bloody man holding a rope.
Tommy latches onto Grian's clammy hand to ground him as the three ascend stairs and traverse the dark, winding hallways. The ghost follows them. It isn't like Ghostbur-- it's, well, not vengeful, but it's not kind. The man named Gareth keens about Grian's sins, about a boy named Taurtis who Gareth hates, about mafia and yakuza, about his poor wife Jane.
On the last set of stairs, Gareth makes a wailing remark that causes Grian to bodily flinch. Tommy doesn't even know what the ghost said (he wasn't listening).
"Fuck off," Tommy says, "you're the shittest ghost I've ever met. Even my brother could..."
He trails off. This is not the way to fix things for Grian. On a hunch, he reaches into his pocket. Of course the object he's looking for is in there; it's his brother's coat.
He holds the object out to the ghost. "Have some blue."
Gareth warily takes it, dropping his rope. It floods periwinkle, then cyan, then dark royal blue. A weight seems lifted from the ghost's shoulders as he clutches the blue, mutters something about Jane, and leaves.
Tommy takes Grian's hand, then Xisuma's, and they go through the door to the school's rooftop together. They halt as one. The portal is there. Standing between them is a boy maybe Tommy's age, with a corpse at his feet.
"Sam," Grian whispers. "Taurtis."
The standing boy smiles, eyes obscured by a purple mask with a rectangular symbol on it, and flexes bloody wings. The corpse on the ground has blood all over its back, where wings once were, and broken headphones around his neck.
"Man, Grian, you really held out on me," Sam says. "This Watcher power really is something else--"
Sam topples over backward. His body hits the ground in front of the portal. Xisuma lowers his gun.
"He looked like bad news," Xisuma says.
Grian grimaces. "He was. Come on, let's go."
They once again step into the portal.
----
“Do you want to be a hero, Tommy?” Technoblade roars, “Then die like one!”
Their paltry little group of three gets no chance to take in their surroundings, to see what’s going on and where they need to go. All they can process is the legendary PvP champion, acolyte of the Blood God, Technoblade, unleashing Withers upon what once might have been a town.
Tommy yanks them into cover. “I don’t know where the portal is,” he hisses.
Grian squeezes his shoulder. “We’ll find it.”
Explosions rain hellfire down upon them from all angles-- not just the Withers, but TNT buried in the ground. They’re so close, they can see the man who set it off. And he must have, because he’s yelling about it, yelling about his L’Manberg and his unfinished symphony and begging his father to kill him. He’s wearing Tommy’s coat--
Bile rises in the back of Grian’s throat. Tommy wears his brother’s coat.
Tommy’s eyes are glued to the gleaming diamond sword that Wilbur gives to his father. He watches his brother die all over again, and he knows where he must go. He turns his back on his broken family and breathes.
“We need to go to the Nether,” he says. They nod.
The black portal is across the battlefield. They come across corpses more than once on their way, but ignore them. They can’t afford not to.
In the Nether, there is a rickety, dangerous pathway with no rails, made of cobblestone and obsidian and oak logs. Manic-depressive ravings on signs proclaim the path as the road to Logstedshire. Piglins try to knock them off to no avail, and ghasts blow up the bridge behind them as they run. On the other side of the Logstedshire portal is... actually not a hellscape, as Grian and Xisuma have come to expect, but a little village encampment. Nothing is blown up, nothing is amiss, except Tommy himself. And, of course, the figure they spot after they catch Tommy staring at it.
It’s Dream. The up-and-coming famous speedrunner who Grian faintly recalls killing once in MCC, which was apparently a big deal. The man approaches, and Grian realizes where he recognizes the mask from. It’s the same one that Tommy wears.
“Tommy,” Dream says conversationally, “items in the pit.”
Tommy’s hand wavers, reaches up to unclasp his chestplate, but Xisuma’s hand on his shoulder stops him.
“No,” Tommy says.
“No?” Dream parrots incredulously. “You know the rules. It’s for your own good. Armor in the pit. Tools in the pit. Friends in the pit.”
They all gasp, though for different reasons. Tommy’s eyes narrow. “Friends in the pit? You’ve never said that one before.”
Dream’s head twitches. “Friends in the pit. Friends. In the pit.”
The man’s voice is deeper than Tommy remembers. Something seems to resolve within Dream’s behavior, yet he keeps twitching. “You’re in exile, Tommy, you don’t need. Friends. I’m all you need. You were doing so good. I thought you learned to behave. I’m all you need. You don’t need friends.”
What happened to the eloquent poison that used to drip from Dream’s tongue like honey? He sounds like a broken record. All at once, Tommy staggers under the weight of the realization that this isn’t Dream. Somewhere underneath that horrible man that abused him is the real Dream, trapped in his own body and watching the dreamon that possessed him hurt his friends.
Xisuma’s gun makes an appearance again, but Tommy holds up a hand in a silent request for the admin to hold his fire. Tommy grabs Dream by the shoulders, removes Dream’s mask and then his own so that he can look the man in the eyes. “I know you’re in there, Dream. When I get out of this nightmare, I’ll save you. I swear it on my discs.”
Dream’s face twitches erratically. The movement spreads to his whole head, neck jerking. He raises straight up into the air, higher and higher, then explodes into a shower of items and no body. A white portal shimmers into existence.
“What the hell was that?!” Grian demands.
Tommy grins, taking the man’s hand and leading him to the portal. “I’ve got a friend to save.”
Grian snarls. “Tommy, he abused you. He’s not your friend.”
“That wasn’t Dream. It was a--”
“Dreamon,” Xisuma breathes.
Tommy nods. They walk through the portal together, and when they wake, holding each other close, they know they’ve got a mission. They can do it.
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