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#rescue fic
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**MASTERLIST**
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You can't stand your job as the arrogant Loki Laufeyson's personal PR rep, but when the quinjet crashes on your way to a summit and leaves you and your cocky co-worker stranded on an uncharted island, you force yourself to work together for your survival. When Loki contracts a devastating disease while awaiting rescue, his feelings for you change, and you find your tropical nightmare turning into the ultimate paradise you never thought it could be.
PAIRING: Avengers!Loki x Reader
GENRES: enemies-to-lovers, castaway romance, comedy, smut
CONTENT WARNINGS (18+ ONLY): some verbal abuse and Dub!con; descriptions of plane crashes, injuries, and disease; smut, look for individual warnings
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Chapter 1: "Thanks, I Hate You" --Coming May 1st
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PLEASE COMMENT/REBLOG IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED (likes alone do not count!)
Tags: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtufff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson2 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki @soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah
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rosaren2498 · 1 year
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Sweet Dream or Beautiful Nightmare
WARNINGS/TAGS: Fem!Reader (no use of y/n), 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!! SMUT, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Vaginal Sex, Possessive!Dream, Possessive!Reader, Violent Reader (Not Towards Dream), Hair-Pulling Kink (?), Creampie, Rescue Fic, Violence (Unsure If It's Graphic, Please Be Safe), They Are Just So Unhinged Guys, Slight Angst (Dream Being Left Alone With His Thoughts Is Rarely Good), Blood, Rough Sex, Nightmare!Reader, Dream Totally Has A Compentancy Kink, As Well As A Damsel In Distress Kink, Claws, Fangs
Someone please inform me if I missed anything in the tags, I'm trying to hard but I've never been good at tagging
Part 7 of the 'It Isn't Abduction If You're Willing' series
I've had this finished (as well as at least two others) for a while (at least a month.) I've had no motivation to transfer any of them, so I apologize for the delay. This is the longest one I have written (I believe) as it's 35 pages on my notes. Hope you enjoy it!
Title is from 'Sweet Dreams' by Beyonce which is basically the song I associate with Dream the most right now. If you haven't heard it, listen to it
---
The day had started just like any other.
Like nearly every morning, you woke in Dream's arms, your head resting on his chest, your body aching pleasantly from the previous night's activities. Dream pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, but you lifted your head with a soft whine, pouting. He chuckled and gave you a proper kiss, slow but deep, tongues tangling lazily; your favorite way to wake up, if you were being honest with yourself. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours and you gave him the brightest smile you were capable of so soon after waking; the awe in his eyes made you feel cherished.
You both lounged in bed for as long as possible, enjoying the closeness, the tactile sensation of someone's body pressed against yours, Dream's body. You shared more than a few lazy, hot, messy kisses, and a little heavy petting, but not much more; you were both mostly just content to bask in each other's presence. When you finally extracted yourself from his arms, albeit very reluctantly, you made your way to the bathroom he had created just for you. Most people wouldn't like a dark-colored bathroom but seeing the black, purple, and blue colors never failed to make you think of Dream; you loved it for that alone.
You kept the lights dim when you flipped them - bright light often hurt your eyes and gave you headaches, though they also reminded you of your time imprisoned - as you approached the shower. Said shower was big enough to hold at least three people comfortably, though the massive bath half-sunk into the floor across from it could hold five people. Maybe you would take a bath later; for now, you turned the shower on, letting the water get hot before stepping under the spray. You shuddered at the heat of it as the water rolled down your body, relaxing your sore and aching muscles; Dream always left you sore in the best ways.
As you began washing your body, you traced the bruises and hickeys that you could see, smiling at the sight of them. Most people seemed to have an issue with being marked; you had never understood why. For you, the bruises and hickeys were reminders that you were wanted; that you were loved. The fact that Dream enjoyed leaving them thrilled you.
You didn't jump when arms wrapped around your waist from behind, merely sighing contentedly and leaning back in Dream's embrace. You stood there together for a quiet moment - as neither of you had any need to speak - before he grabbed his shampoo. He began to massage it into your hair, nails lightly scratching your scalp as he did, causing a happy hum to leave you. Once the shampoo was rinsed away, he lathered your hair in conditioner and left it to sit for a bit. You took the opportunity to turn around, shifting the both of you around until he was under the spray. When his hair was sufficiently wet, you grabbed your own shampoo; you both did so love smelling like each other. He ducked his head just a bit and you smiled, returning the gentle care he had easily offered. When his conditioner was in, he rinsed yours out and then you began to gently wash his body, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses everywhere you could reach.
When you were both completely clean, you kissed him. Dream tugged you closer by your waist with a pleased noise, wrapping his arms around you again. The kiss quickly grew heated and you whimpered into his mouth when one of his hands slipped between your legs. He slid his finger along your slit and you pulled away from his mouth just enough to pant, fighting the urge to rock your hips. He slipped a finger into you and you moaned softly, your eyes fluttering. You bit your lip as you rocked against his finger in little motions, unable to help it; when he added a second one, your knees nearly buckled at the lick of pleasure up your spine, but his arm around your waist kept you upright. He shifted, crowding you against the water-warmed tile and you moaned his name as he began steadily fucking you with his fingers.
"Always so wet for me, little dreamling."
Your breath hitched and you whimpered.
"Only for you."
His possessive growl had you shuddering and clenching around his fingers. He added a third, and you couldn't contain your breathless cry of pleasure when he curled them inside you. His fingers were long, like an artist's, which allowed him to easily rub against that spot inside you that had you seeing stars; or maybe that was just his eyes.
"Yes." The word came out almost as a growl. "You are mine, and only mine, forever."
Your body began trembling as your orgasm rushed towards you embarrassingly quick, high-pitched whimpers and moans filling the room.
"Yes, yes, yes! Yes, I'm yours. Always yours, only yours." You gasped for breath, whining as he curled his fingers again; your mouth was quickly getting away from you. "My Dream, my North Star. I belong to you in a way I have never belonged to anyone. I swear that I will never belong to anyone else ever again; just you."
Your voice was beginning to tremble with the effort it took to speak around your pleasure. You allowed your head to fall back against the tile, looking up at him, at your North Star. His eyes were wild with a possessiveness that would scare - and had scared - anyone else, but not you. You would never be afraid of how much he felt, you reveled in it, for you felt the same. "I am yours, as you are mine. No other shall get to see you like this. No other will get to feel your fingers inside them like this. No other will have your heart as I do." You placed your hand over where his heart was, the heart he didn't need, but manifested just your you.
Dream kissed you until you were dizzy with it, your head spinning with pleasure. When he pulled back, his free hand left your waist and slid up your body, resting at the base of your throat, fingers against your rapid pulse; he didn't squeeze, but you still shuddered, another high-pitched noise slipping from your mouth. He brought his lips to your ear, his voice a deep rasp. "No one will ever see your beauty as you cum, trembling, and shaking, and crying. None but me." He gave a vicious twist of his fingers, rubbing cruelly against that special spot, and the coil in your belly exploded. You rose his fingers through your orgasm until you were a panting, shaking, and trembling mess just like he wanted. When he finally removed his fingers, he immediately sucked them into his mouth, cleaning them off; you whimpered at the sight and he flashed you a smirk.
"Menace." Your voice was still shaky, but you couldn't bring yourself to mind. Not when he kissed you again, and certainly not when he dragged one of your legs up and around his waist, rocking his hips just enough to rub his cock against you.
"I would have you again, fill you like I know you enjoy, if you would but allow it."
You shuddered and nodded rapidly, using the leg now around his waist to pull him even closer; you couldn't have given less of a fuck about the fact that you had just gotten clean. "Yes, yes, always. I could never deny you anything, my love, least of all your pleasure."
His deep groan had yet another shudder racing down your spine, then he was pushing into you in one smooth stroke, burying his cock to the hilt. Your back arched off the tiles as you moaned loudly, pressing your chest against his. His hand left the base of your throat, sliding back down your body to grip your waist again to keep you upright; he rolled his hips in slow thrusts, punching moans and whimpers out of you each time he sank in to the hilt.
You panted into each other's mouths, sharing breath as your eyes locked; you couldn't look away from the sheer intensity in his eyes; you didn't want to look away. You slid one of your hands into his wet, silky hair and tugged, crying out when he groaned deep in his chest and gave a particularly harsh thrust; oh, you wouldn't last much longer. You threaded your other hand into his hair and then tugged with both hands. You enjoyed the growl that slipped out of his mouth almost as much as the way his thrusts turned rough, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin echoing against the tile' the slick slide of your bodies was downright obscene. Your sounds were quickly turning breathy.
"Dream, my Dream, please. Cum inside me, fill me up. Need it, Dream. Need to feel your spend coat me from the inside, like a claim, need to feel it dripping out of me because there's so much of it that I couldn't possibly hold it all inside. Please, I'm so close."
A dark, guttural noise slipped from his mouth, causing a shiver to race down your spine and you to clench around him. You felt his cock twitch heavily inside you before feeling the sudden rush of hot liquid and a desperate cry left you as your orgasm swept you away. Dream didn't stop, fucking both of you through your orgasms until all that was left were little aftershocks that had you clenching erratically around his cock. You could feel his cool breath against the heated skin of your neck as he panted, causing you to shiver as you tried to get your own gasping breaths under control. When he finally, slowly, pulled his cock out, you felt a gush of liquid down your thighs that had a high-pitched whimper tumbling from your mouth. He smirked before kissing you, delving his tongue into your mouth to taste you; you kissed back eagerly.
"I'm going to feel that all day."
Something that could only be called a purr rumbled through his chest, and his smirk turned outright wicked. "Good. I want you to spend the whole day thinking of me. And when we're no longer busy, regardless of where you are, I am going to find you and fill you again and again. When you're full to the brim, I will put a plug in you so that not a single drop escapes. You will sleep with my seed buried as deep into you as possible and come the next morning, I will add more."
You whined, squirming at the thought, pupils dilating. "Promise?"
He kissed you passionately, harshly, sucking on your tongue before pulling back. "I swear."
---
After cleaning up, again, you went your separate ways for now. Dream had Kingly duties, dreams and nightmares to create, and you had promised to help Lucienne in the library; a ton of new books had appeared and they needed sorting. It was several hours before you saw him again, though it had felt like an eternity - as being away from him always did - and you accepted his greeting kiss with relief. Unfortunately, for both of you, he was not quite done with being a king for the day - there were a few particular books he needed to check - but you simply sent him to his throne room with the promise of getting the books for him; you absolutely loved doing anything you could for him. Once gathered, you made your way to the throne room, to him, humming a song from the Waking World under your breath.
You pushed open the doors and made your way to the base of the stairs. Dream was perched on the fifth step, robe spilled out around him; you couldn't help but admire the veritable night sky you could see inside. You would never get over the fact that he sat on the stairs that led to his throne, rather than the throne itself when he didn't have to be political; it was both adorable and sweet. You handed him the books, getting a chaste kiss as a thank you. You turned and began making your way back to the doors of the library, freezing mid-step at the abrupt feeling of wrongness that flooded your awareness like ice. You heard a sharp intake of breath and a small thud as pain and panic, feelings that did not belong to you, thrashed in your head. You whipped around to see the books on the floor and Dream hunched over, the edges of his form blurring.
"Not... again."
You were confused for only a second, crying out for him as you quickly realized what was happening. No, no, not again! Don't do this to him again!! He was gone before you could close the distance, and as you felt that precious bond between you go completely silent, you s c r e a m e d.
---
Dream awoke feeling dizzy. He'd fought the pull of the summoning spell with all his power, but it had dug into his very core, hooked him like a fish and he was powerless to stop it. He couldn't feel his power, and his chest - and the back of his head - felt empty in a way he'd never experienced; as if something he'd never noticed was there was suddenly gone. It wasn't the emptiness of being disconnected from the Dreaming, nor the collective unconscious; he was intimately familiar with the feeling of that after a century, and that feeling had already settled in his gut. No, this was a hollow feeling, an emptiness that was like he'd been cut off from something else. Something potentially more important, something vital that he truly hadn't even known was there; it left him feeling bereft.
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the cursed golden binding circle; he suddenly wished he had found the grimoire before and had burned it. The second thing he saw were the three people standing just outside it, staring at him; the one standing slightly in front of the others was eying him gleefully, while the other two were studying him warily. A quick glance around revealed a mostly bare room; it was clear that he was in yet another basement.
Once they realized he was awake, he learned their names - Mark, Tristan, and Ryan - and that they had found the grimoire, deciding to summon Death like Burgess had tried to before them. It seemed Burgess had never explained that the summoning spell had never caught Death; it figured he wouldn't admit to his own mistakes. However, they seemed to know even less than Burgess had about what they were doing, or even who he was. Unfortunately for him, as long as the binding circle remained intact, there was little he could do. He refused to answer their questions or demands, giving them the same silence he had given Burgess. Eventually, they grew bored and irritated and left the room; they left no guards behind to watch him and he was, thankfully still fully clothed; he would have already used his sand to escape, but he knew it wouldn't work with the binding circle intact; he couldn't use his sand without access to his power. He shifted in the circle to get more comfortable, settling in to wait. He would not need to wait long; surely you would come for him.
---
Time passed excruciatingly slowly. His new captors came down frequently, demanding the same gifts that Burgess had demanded of him, but he merely glared silently at them whenever any of them showed; while Mark and Tristan were clearly shaken by his rage, Ryan was not to be deterred and refused to let the other two leave. He, once more, could do nothing but think. The more time that passed, the less certain he was that you would come; why would you? He had taken you from your home realm, against your will, and had claimed you as his without a thought as to whether it was what you wanted; he knew it was wrong and yet he had still done it. Surely you were happy that he was gone.
His captors were getting more angry with his silence now; or rather, Ryan was as Mark and Tristan seemed to only get more and more freaked out; he couldn't deny he felt a bit of pride at that. Ryan shouted at him, cried that he had captured him by the laws of magic and that Dream owed them boons now; that Ryan owned him. It made him furious, made him feel sick, but still, there was nothing he could do.
He was unsure how much time had passed when he suddenly heard the flutter of wings; his captors were not in the room at the moment and he'd lost track of how long it'd been since he'd last seen them. His head snapped up and his heart dropped into his stomach when he saw Matthew creeping closer to the edge of the circle.
"Don't worry, Boss, help's on the way. We'll get you out."
Dream barely registered the words, too panicked by Matthew's appearance; he could only see Jessamy's determination to free him, see her blood splattered on the glass sphere that had kept him imprisoned.
"You have to leave." It isn't safe, he didn't say. They will kill you, he thought.
Matthew cawed in protest. "I'm not leaving you alone down here! They're right outside the house, and I'll keep out of sight, but I'm not leaving you."
He watched as Matthew flew around the edge of the circle until he was at the back of it, hidden from the view of the doorway by Dream's body; who were the they that Matthew spoke of?
Less than a minute later, the very foundations of the house shook. His captors spilled into the room, two - Mark and Tristan - gripping guns in shaking hands while the third, the leader Ryan, held a knife tightly in his hand. Matthew kept still, and silent, behind Dream as Ryan stalked over to the circle, scowling; Dream could have laughed at the attempt to intimidate him.
Before Ryan could speak, the house shook again and the door to the room was practically blown off its hinges; Ryan spun around to face the door as the other two raised their guns; they looked like they were going to piss themselves any second except for Ryan. Shadows were spilling into the room from the open doorway, shadows much like Dream's own, but these swirled with deep blues and purples that he'd never seen in his own before; a veritable galaxy of color amongst the black. Then, a voice rang out, echoing with power.
"Release him."
It was a voice he recognized, and he would've sobbed in relief at hearing it if he weren't more than a little confused.
Ryan snarled. "We have captured it by the laws of magic; it's ours!"
A growl reverberated so loudly, so strongly, in the room that Dream felt it in his chest. He caught the sound of two other growls, quieter but no less furious; one more animalistic while the other more human.
"He does not belong to you. Release him or you will meet an end so cruel, the devil will weep."
He shuddered at the barely contained fury and possessiveness in his Queen's voice. When none of his captors made a move to free him, the shadows in the room - still with those strange and beautiful colors - began to form a familiar shape. Directly out of the shadows stepped his Queen, but you looked... different.
Shadows dripped from your form, and your hair moved and shifted in the air, defying gravity like you were underwater; there were swirling blue and purple inch-long claws tipping your fingers. The breath in his throat, the breath he didn't need, hitched when he saw how your eyes glowed with the white-hot fury of a thousand stars. Was this what he looked like when he was angry? He'd never seen anything more stunning.
He choked on a panicked shout when two gunshots rang out, but it took him a moment to realize the cries that followed were not from you. The two captors that had been wielding guns were now on the floor clutching at their respective calves, which were spilling crimson blood onto the floor; the shots had come from the doorway, still cloaked in your shadows. He watched, startled, as Ryan stalked forward, surely stupid rather than brave. Dream heard the sound of a blade slicing through air and then Ryan grunted in pain; a very familiar knife was sticking out of his right thigh.
Dream settled back to watch in awe as you advanced on the human now kneeling on the floor; Ryan pulled the knife out with another grunt and tossed it to the ground, giving you a pathetic snarl that cut off quickly when you wrapped a hand around his throat. Dream felt heat slowly creeping up his neck and spreading across his face as he watched, heavy-lidded, as you lifted Ryan clear off the ground, as you defended him. No one, save for Hob in 1789, had ever defended him before: it was just as heady a feeling now as it had been then.
You allowed a dark growl to fall from your lips as you held the stupid human by his throat, baring a mouthful of fangs rather than human teeth. "You dared to take what is mine. Dared to steal my King right in front of me." You dragged a claw down the human's cheek, and Dream couldn't repress his pleasurable shudder as blood welled up from the ragged cut. "Death is too kind for the likes of you. Your friends, oh they will die, but you... your mind will be trapped in our realm, hunted by our nightmares, by me, and you will be torn to shreds over and over again until your body, here, gives out. Then, and only then, will you finally know peace. We will make Hell feel like Heaven."
Your shadows rushed out, enveloping the man that began screaming as soon as they tuched him, before he abruptly went limp in your grasp; you dropped him without care, turning to the other two. They immediately burst into pleas for mercy but you merely ignored them, advancing on the closest one. You dug your claws in and tore at his flesh; his scream had Dream shuddering again as he watched you tear and rip both of the remaining humans o shreds; there was little left of them but broken bones, blood, and strips of flesh. When they were dead, you turned to him, giving him a quick once-over before picking up the discarded, familiar, knife and holding it out behind you.
"I believe this is yours."
Dream tilted his had at you before, through the still-shadowed doorway, Corinthian stepped into the room, immediately followed by Hob: your shadows had kept them hidden from view, kept them safe. Oh, he loved you so much.
Corinthian silently took the knife, cleaned the blood off, and put it back in his holster; both he and Hob looked almost as murderous as you did. Your voice rang out again.
"We cannot break the biding circle; you'll have to."
Hob didn't hesitate to step forward, dropping to his knees and ripping his jacket off to use it to scrub at the paint on the floor; the material gave way quickly enough and Dream gasped sharply as his power flooded through him once more. What nearly made him cry out was the bond - the bond he hadn't even realized you had - bursting open in his chest and the back of his head, your feelings filling him; a protective fury, the likes of which he had never felt before, whirled through him, quickly followed by desperation and a relief that nearly choked him. Then, he was in your arms, your hands - still ripped in those beautiful claws and dripping with blood - caressing his face oh so gently.
"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" Your hands trailed over his body, gentle as a feather, checking for any wounds.
He could resist no longer and dragged you bodily into a fierce kiss. He shoved his tongue into your mouth, curling it around one of your fangs with a deep, vibrating groan. When he pulled back, he was panting. "You are... magnificent."
You practically purred at the praise even as you jerked your head towards Hob and Corinthian. "You should thank them. Corinthian kept me from tearing the entire world down while trying to find you, and Hob managed to track the grimoire down; it's how we found you. I was beside myself the second you vanished; I'm sorry it took so long."
Dream shushed you softly, pulling you into his embrace with a shuddering sigh. He looked over your shoulder at his dearest friend and his little nightmare. "Thank you both; I will not forget this."
Hob smiled and nodded once. "No need to thank me, my friend."
Corinthian, however, seemed startled. He suddenly shrugged, affecting a look of indifference. "Couldn't exactly have her ripping all the realms apart."
Dream smiled at his masterpiece. "Still... thank you."
Corinthian visibly hesitated before nodding once with a quick jerk of his head. "You're welcome, my Lord."
You nuzzled his chest, voice soft when you spoke. "Home?"
Dream tightened his arms around you. "Yes. Home."
---
Less than half an hour later, having gotten Hob home safe, and sent Corinthian and Matthew off to do their jobs, you and Dream were finally back in your chambers. A week. He'd been missing for a week, and though it technically wasn't a long time, it was far too long for you. It was taking every ounce of self-control you still had to not pounce on him; you'd missed him more than you'd ever be able to explain but you figured he'd likely need some time. You were just about to make a move towards the bathroom in order to wash the blood off you when Dream pounced on you, pushing you onto the bed and crawling over you like a predator; it sent a pleasurable shiver rolling down your spine.
"Do you have any idea how stunning you look right now? I hadn't even realized we were bound, let alone that you could wield my power with such ease."
You moaned as he devoured your mouth in a desperate kiss, shoving your tongue into his mouth to finally taste him. You clung to him, keeping his body pressed tightly against yours even as your clothes vanished into sand. He pressed you back into the bed, eyes like the black void of distant space from side-to-side, twin stars shining where the pupils would be. You automatically spread your legs wide for him and he settled between them like it was where he belonged.
"You're absolutely gorgeous. Covered in the blood of those who would have done me harm, wielding my power like you were born for it.... Breathtaking. My sweet dreamling, my beautiful nightmare."
You shuddered and whined, power no longer echoing in your voice, though you still had claws, your hair was still wilder than ever, and your eyes still shined like his. "Please, I can't wait; I need to feel you."
Thankfully, he didn't make you wait any longer, plundering your mouth as he buried his cock as deep inside you as possible. Your back arched at the sudden burn of the stretch, but you only moaned desperately. You clung tighter to him, smearing still-drying blood along his skin as he started an almost punishing rhythm; it was clear that any control he had was long gone. You traced a path along his skin with your too-long-to-be-human tongue, following the trail of blood you had left behind, licking him clean and causing him to growl. His hand threaded through your hair and he pulled your head back sharply, muffling your loud moan as he shoved his own not-quite-human tongue into your mouth, chasing the iron tang of the blood.
You rolled your hips in time with his, meeting him thrust for thrust, the slap of skin-on-skin contact loud in the room; fuck, you had missed him so much. You sucked on his tongue and smirked when he abruptly pulled back with an absolutely wild look in his eyes. He growled deep in his chest, his free hand gripping your hip tight enough to bruise; you hoped it would. The hand still in your hair yanked your head further back - far enough that your back arched with it = and latched onto your neck, biting and sucking marks almost viciously into your skin as he fucked into your harder. You dug your newly-acquired claws into his back, dragging them down and ripping an absolutely filthy growl from his mouth that caused you to shudder; you whined high in your throat at the sharp scrape of fangs that you knew he didn't have seconds before, clenching around his cock; you kind of hoped he'd bite you, hard enough to draw blood.
You could feel the pressure in the air as his power rose, could taste the slight humanness of him that usually lingered vanish completely when he kissed you again; you let the power resting inside you rise to meet his, intertwining in the air like silver ribbons. You rocked your hips into his, both of you chasing your pleasure, gasping and moaning into each other's mouths due to how rough and desperate you both were.
You keened at a particularly deep thrust, pulling away from his sinful mouth to speak. "I'm so close." Your voice was hoarse and breathless, but you continued nonetheless. "Please, can I cum? Please let me cum, my Dream, my North Star, please."
Dream gave a deep groan, snapping his hips harder into the cradle of your thighs, causing your back to arch again. "So good for me, asking permission. Yes, yes my love, cum for me."
You didn't need anything more than his permission, that coil in your belly, which had been tightening, snapping abruptly as soon as the words left his lips. You gasped his name as your orgasm crashed into you, sweeping you away in a tidalwave of pure bliss. You whimpered when Dream's hips stuttered once, twice, and then he buried his cock deep inside you, head thrown back with a silent cry as he came. You clung to each other in the aftermath, hands roaming each other's bodies as if reacquainting yourselves, gentling each other. You pressed your mouth to his in a loving kiss and he sighed blissfully into the kiss. Without pulling out, he carefully rolled you both onto your sides, holding you as close as possible. As most of your more inhuman features finally faded, until only the stars in your eyes remained, you traced random shapes over his heart before giving his chest a small kiss. You met his curious gaze and allowed that power to bleed into your voice once more.
"I will never allow anyone to hurt you, and I will never allow you to be taken from me; I would slaughter any who dare attempt either. I will never allow anyone to take me from you, nor will I allow anyone to get in between us. And if something happened, something like this, I would fight to get you back, or fight until I was returned to you. I would fight with teeth or fangs, nails or claws, with every last breath in my body, and I would not rest until we were safe in each other's arms again. I will always come for you, and I will always come back to you, because you are mine, and I am yours."
You felt more than heard his breath hitch as he tried to pull you even closer, despite no space actually existing between you. He took a shuddering breath, and then spoke.
"I swear to never doubt your love, and to always love you in return. I will never allow harm to come to you, and I will punish all who attempt to do so. I will never allow myself to be taken from you, nor allow you to be taken from me. And if we are separated, I will not know peace until we are reunited once more. I will protect and love you as fiercely as you would protect and love me. For you are mine, as I am yours."
Both of your oaths rang with power, and you felt them twine around you, settling into your skin with a shudder.
"I love you."
"As I love you."
You shared another loving and gentle kisss, then settled, allowing your bodies to relax for the first time in a week. You were more than content to simply hold each other once more, everything else could wait; right now, you needed to hold, and be held by, him.
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last-capy-hupping · 8 months
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Announcement to readers of my two main WIPS, Running Up That Hill (sequel to Mad Season and Poison) and Anywhere With You:
I’m okay. I’m still writing. I’m not on hiatus. I’m just halfway through a two week vacation abroad with my friends, so I have very little spare time to write. I was caught up with my TRSB fic before I left and too tired/distracted to write on the flights over. Anyway, expect to see updates around the 16th and 17th. With luck, I’ll update sooner, but I can’t guarantee that.
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katblu42 · 11 months
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Jasmine and Jade (fic Reblog for @thunder-pride)
The themes of this wonderful event are not ones that feature in my fics as a general rule - I'm not a shippy writer at all, and the as such the main characters preferences don't factor in to the stories - so I have been at a loss as to how to contribute.
I do have one story that features a couple who could fit today's theme, but they are OCs. From the moment this story began forming in my mind Jasmine and Jade presented themselves as a couple. They have so much backstory that did not fit into the fic, and I was a little shy about spelling out the intricacies of their relationship while I was still so new to the fandom. I hope the love they have for each other is evident anyway.
Originally written for Easter Tag 2021 (prompts from @bonsaiiiiiii) Approx 6435 words, so I have only posted a taste here (link to AO3 at end of post).
Jasmine and Jade
“International Rescue, we have a situation,” John’s holographic figure announced as the last echoes of the alarm died away.  Once he was sure he had the full attention of his brothers and sister he filled them in.  “An EPIRB device has been activated in a remote section of a national park in Vietnam.  Local authorities have requested assistance.  The remote location combined with challenging terrain makes access to the area difficult.  There is also a weather concern.  Heavy rainfall expected to hit the area soon and continue over the next 12 hours will likely cause rock falls and mud slides as well as flooding in the cave systems.”
“How many people are we looking for?”  Virgil asked, already on his way to his launch chute.
“The EPIRB device is registered as belonging to a pair of visitors who entered the national park two days ago.”  John replied.  “This rescue could turn ugly quickly.  I suggest you take Alan and Gordon with you on this one.  Thunderbird 4 may be required to traverse the river system that runs through the caves and canyons.”
“FAB,” two voices responded as the youngsters raced off to suit up.
“I’ll head out there too,” Scott suggested.  “I’ll liaise with the local authorities and park rangers and co-ordinate on site.”
“FAB.”
And with that Kayo was left alone in the sunken lounge to wait and watch as her brothers took off towards Vietnam.
Jasmine was exhausted.  The fall had left her battered and bruised, scrapes and scratches all over her hands, knees, forearms and shins from her attempts at grabbing hold of something on the way down. 
Initially when they had cut the rope she thought she had a chance of making it to the top without the safety of Jade’s belay.  Then she’d heard the gunshot.  She hadn’t dared look down to where she could hear Jade yelling for her to get out and get help.  But when she’d looked up there was someone waiting for her, a stranger with a vicious grin and a gun. 
Fear had frozen her to the spot as she’d tried to figure out whether to go up or attempt to climb back down and help Jade.  In the end fate decided for her as her hand had begun to slip on rocks already slick from earlier rain.  Her attempt to adjust her hold failed and she slid several feet before hitting a protruding rock. Hard.  She’d jarred her right hip but managed to hold fast and catch her breath. 
She had caught sight of the canyon floor below her and seen Jade being dragged back toward the cave entrance by two men dressed like Indiana Jones wannabes.  She could hear a voice above her but she hadn’t thought he was talking to her – maybe the guys below that had Jade were talking to the guy above through some kind of radio.  Jasmine had tried to haul herself into a sitting position on the rock, but her foot had hit loose stones and she’d slipped again, this time bouncing and scraping down the cliff face until reaching the bottom. 
“You still alive down there?” a male voice had bellowed from the top of the cliff. 
Instinct told Jasmine not to answer.  Instead she had taken time to asses her injuries.  Nothing broken, so far as she could tell.  Her hip was complaining, there were tears in her clothing and blood stains beginning to appear in places, the cuts in her left leg needed dressing, but didn’t look too deep, and her right ankle was tender, but otherwise she considered herself very lucky. 
Taking stock of her surroundings she realised she had landed a few metres away from where her original ascent had begun.  Jade’s backpack was still lying on the ground next to the severed belay line.  When Jasmine attempted to retrieve the backpack another gunshot rang out, and the bullet ricocheted off the rocks a few feet to her left.  Looking up she spied the gunman far above her and her heart lurched in fear – for him.
“Get back from the edge!” she yelled up at him.  It was mere seconds later that the rock he stood on gave way and he was tumbling down the rockface.
Now she was sitting with her back against rocks, tired and sore, beginning to shiver as the cloud cover increased, trying to keep an unconscious, unknown enemy alive.  She had activated the EPIRB alarm from her own pack, and used the medical kit Jade had carried in hers to treat what she could of the man’s injuries as well as the cut on her own leg.  She had tried the man’s radio, but it seemed to have been broken in the fall.  She had considered leaving him and going after Jade, wondering why the other men had taken her, and what they might be doing to her, but staying put was safer.  She just had to trust that someone would come in answer to her beacon in time to find and rescue Jade.
The canyon was rapidly growing dark.  A look skyward confirmed the ominous threat presented by the gathering storm clouds.  Jasmine could hear the rumble of distant thunder as the rain began to pelt the surrounding rock and the surface of the river that ran through the canyon.  This was why she and Jade had given up on their quest for the next clue in the treasure hunt and decided to make their way back out of the canyon.  They were right on the edge of the rainy season, and once the rain began it would not take long for the water level in the river to rise.  The cave system was known to be prone to flooding.  Water would come at you from below, with the river and its network of creeks and streams winding through the various caverns, tunnels and caves, and from above trickling down through cracks, crevices and swallow holes in the rocks and earth overhead.  Rock and mudslides in these caverns and caves were common in heavy rain and Jasmine and Jade had stayed as long as they dared before this weather system had arrived.
Despite the cold and the rain and the intense worry about the well-being of her closest friend Jasmine must have fallen asleep.  She didn’t remember closing her eyes, but now she was struggling to open them.  She was aware that the distant and intermittent rumbles of thunder seemed to have become much louder, closer.  There was something not quite right about the deep rumbling sound reverberating through the canyon.  Between the loud cracking booms that came seconds after lightning the rumbling sound never completely died away, and instead of fading it seemed to be growing consistently louder.  It was the oddness of the sound that gave her the mental strength to drag her eyes open.  The river had moved closer to her – or rather the water level had risen significantly and she wondered how long she’d been asleep.  She could feel the rumble of the thunder now, vibrating through her bones, unceasing and growing in intensity.  The realisation that this wasn’t thunder came milliseconds before she saw the flash of blue and silver overhead.  Not thunder – a Thunderbird.
Read the rest here
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I adore platonic Ravenation so, so much. So much that I wrote an angsty fic for them! 😁
Summary: Lilith gets hurt, Steve is a good friend, and Darius has a lot of feelings.
Shoot me a comment if you read!
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Trigger warnings: violence, torture, execution, injury, grief.
Extra credits:
@sound-under-the-sea for beta reading and editing it for me!
@itsnicsalad who I stole the platonic ship name ‘ravenation’ from, lol.
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buffyaddict13 · 1 year
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The Waters of Lethe by buffyaddict13
Chapter 5: Submerged
Detective Tsukauchi asks for Eraser Head’s help investigating a series of abductions around Musutafu.
The abductees–taken specifically for their Quirks–are sold on the dark web to the highest bidder. The man in charge of the Quirk Trafficking Ring is known as Oblivion. His Quirk is like the River Lethe of Greek mythology…all who encounter it enter a state of forgetfulness, and their memories are erased.
Aizawa gets a little closer to the investigation than he intends.
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wasted-and-ready · 1 year
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“Nightwing!” Tim called quietly, as he reached for his flashlight. There was no answer from below. He whipped out the flashlight and clicked it on, shining it down into the dark. At the very bottom of the hole, the white light of the flashlight illuminated an organic shape. It was wrapped in tight black fabric and topped with a mess of black hair.
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ky-landfill · 1 month
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azaisya · 1 month
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@just-another-linguist and @melestasflight both requested Fingon which was v exciting. Fingon is one of the characters that really stuck with me the first time I read the Silm, but I’ve never actually drawn him. In my mind this is like a Valinor-era Fingon!
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dapper-lil-arts · 1 month
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Darlings. is it gay when the phantom you created as a manifestation of your dreadfull loneliness takes the form of one of your closest friends.
Fanart of this pretty good horror rarijack fanfic, "The haunting of carroussel boutique" personaly i am surprised the writer didnt take the chance to point out how fucking funny this is. Me n kim started laughing about it during stream and i just had to draw this
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thatonebirdwrites · 4 months
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When the news came, Lena was in a meeting with Sam and the L-Corp's board. She'd long ago set all alerts for Supergirl to come through to her phone, but ones where Supergirl was injured had been set to ignore all other settings.
The ring caused Sam to jump, but Lena kept her cool. She glanced down at her phone, and felt her veins turn to ice. A brief message that Supergirl had fallen from the sky.
Shit.
Lena grabbed her phone and bag. "I regret that I must take this call. An emergency has come up."
Sam looked at her, her brow furrowed in worry. "I can handle this, Lena. Go."
With a tight smile to her friend and CFO, Lena hurried from the room. She swapped out her shoes, and took off in a sprint. The alert had given her an intersection, but she needed to know if Alex knew about this yet.
Lena: Alex, I'm incoming.
Alex: wait, what?
Lena: Kara, she's fallen.
Alex: The hell? She's supposed to be eating lunch! Was in a meeting. Where?
Lena forwarded the alert's text, baffled that Alex had no idea.
Alex: How close are you? It's gonna take me fifteen minutes. J'onn unavailable.
Lena: Be there in five.
The doors of the elevator opened. Why drive when she could take the helicopter? When her pilot reached the intersection, Lena stared in horror. Someone had what looked like a missile launcher over their shoulder, and Kara laid in a cracked hole in the street in front of Noonan's. So Alex had been correct, Kara had been getting lunch, as drinks and food was spilled across the curb. People clustered in the doorways of the cafe and storefronts, and Kara's supersuit had a burn mark across its front.
Fuck.
"Hold us steady," Lena ordered the pilot. She grabbed a bag from behind her seat. In case of an attack -- considering she had quarterly assassination attempts all the time -- she had some specific weapons in here. One of them was a shotgun with some unusual shells. She flicked through her supplies and decided on a particularly useful set. She popped in the shells, cocked the gun, and threw open the door. The person started to look up, but Lena wasn't giving them a chance to react. She fired. The shots slammed into the person's back and immediately ice formed. She fired again. This time the person fell to the ground as a block of ice. Cryo shells had their use. She reloaded and gestured to her pilot.
He brought the helicopter closer to the ground. "Watch my back," she said, mostly out of habit, though she doubted the pilot could do anything. "And stay in the air. We'll need a quick exit." "Right, Ms. Luthor." He kept his gaze on the controls, his voice coming through her headset.
She jumped to the ground, her shotgun cocked. As she scanned the area, she realized, to her dismay, that another person stood in the shadows of the storefront across from Noonan's, armed with some sort of long rifle. Why the person hadn't fired yet confused her.
Lena aimed but didn't fire yet. She didn't have confidence that her shot would hit before the other took her out. "Step away from Supergirl."
The person wasn't that much taller than herself. Curly blonde hair leaked out of the black beanie, and blue eyes regarded her from under a black mask, their clothes definitely assassin-like. "Stay out of this, Luthor." A high-pitched voice. Possibly a woman?
"This is my business." Lena stalked closer. "Don't think I won't take you out like your friend there." She nodded at the other person dressed in black with a black mask over their face, their eyes closed. Ice was still encased around their lower body.
Lena wished she'd seen the person earlier. Otherwise she'd have fired on them too. Now they were in a stand-off exactly when Kara needed her the most.
"I don't want to do this," the woman in black said. "You're not on our list."
"Then step away now. Don't think I won't fire."
The woman stared at her for a long moment as if sizing her up. Her voice timbre changed to a hint of coy and frustrated. "Why do you care, Lena Luthor? Doesn't your family hate Kryptonians?"
Lena rolled her eyes. "I'm not them." She needed to distract her somehow. At least until Alex got here or Lena could fire the shot without getting hit in turn. "Now, how about you put down your weapon, I'll put down mine, and we'll talk like civilized people?"
The woman hesitated, her rifle moved just an inch down.
That was when the shot came from above. The bullet hit the woman's shoulder, she staggered backward, and Lena took the shot. Two blasts later, the woman was encased in ice like her friend.
Lena slung the shotgun over her shoulder and raced to Kara's side. "Supergirl!" She dropped next to her and felt for Kara's pulse. It was faint, far too faint. "Dammit." She didn't have time to check for injuries. Kara needed extracted immediately. "Riordan, drop the stretcher," she said into her headset.
The helicopter hovered closer, and a side door slid open. The stretcher shot out, swung, and slowed to a stop above her head. She reached up, snagged its side, and pulled on its rope until she had it next to Kara. It took two tries to lift the Kryptonian -- damn, Kara was heavy -- until she had Kara on and belted in securely. Flicking the switch on the bottom of the stretcher, a set of footrests dropped into place.
After she clamped her shoes onto the footrests, she noticed several people had started to come out of the stores with their phones in their hands, likely recording her rescue.
Whatever. All Lena cared about was Kara. "Go," she ordered her pilot, and held on tightly as the helicopter lifted toward the sky.
TO BE CONTiNUED...
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beescake · 2 months
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PLEASE PLEASE MEGADUMP THE ARASOL!!! PLEAAASEE MR BEESCAKE I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU
HFHGHD GLADLY aaa i’ve been adding notes to it here and there for months but just hesitant to post it bcs im 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂
also this is just my own takeaway of the events, it doesn’t necessarily comply to the Ultimate Truth of Canon-Alignment or represent the actual facts of what hussie intended! v sentimental smh but hopefully its still interesting to read
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i love when characters inform each other by proximity, it's one of my fave things to see in media :') it feels even more significant when two characters deliberately choose to stick together, so that when one operates, you can tell the other is similarly aligned in associative solidarity.
sollux is a keystone of this trope — whoever he aligns with is a wordless statement, a nod of approval. this stood out to me bcs the main four humans were alr friends by default, but once you reach hivebent you realize the trolls can actively choose who they want to hang out with.
and as we all know, after assessing every troll's biases/loyalties, sollux is the only one who maintains his selective preference for innately Good 👍 people.
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aradia is such a beautiful character honestly, she evokes such incredible feelings in me. she might not have been consistently written with care but the best parts of her character are truly stunning. i think it's easy to remember sollux as the self-sacrificing one bc he's so open about it (and his friends frequently react to his Moments) but when you compare him to aradia, it's always struck me
how much more. raw it is
to be so alone as an agent of time, having to orchestrate immeasurably harrowing events nobody understands or gives a fuck about
with your role painted in the story as one who must tend to the needs of the narrative, responsible to match every next note
because when you're given the capabilities, it becomes your duty to carry it out.
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it becomes expected of you to keep experimenting and arranging the machinations to work for everyone, dusting off hundreds of necessary failures to keep going
and having to be so unwavering in your drive knowing miserably that there's no one who can help you but yourself.
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or alternatively: to make things fun! so other people won't think twice about letting you go off on your own.
sure she's had some very good buds, notably thanks to Team Charge v Team Scourge antics.
and yet, at the end of the day, the one friend that kept choosing her time and time again was the friend with the highest standards.
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i can see why people like to define arasol as moirails/matesprits but surprisingly i find the nondescript, unlabeled aspect of their relationship more straightforward to understand.
there's no shortage of people who would accommodate sollux. most of the surviving trolls are his oldest friends bcs he’d chosen them well. his transparency with his feelings had built him strong friendships that won’t falter or break, regardless of how much of a dick he can be. they’ve already seen and accepted him at his worst, and they still like him for who he is.
contrast that with aradia, who'd been so approachable, friendly and reliable in her exchanges it was super fun to talk to her. but the moment she became depressed, all her connections broke down.
her friends became hesitant to interact with her (until she became god tier, “happy” and amicable again) because her gloom and resignation didn’t serve them. she dealt with it alone.
there’s def something of note here abt the disparity between the way male & female characters are written+perceived in homestuck (esp parallel arasol with davejade) but i won’t go into that lmaoo
with this in mind i like to think of sollux as a gift to her, a loyal companion given to complement and commend her resolve. she's capable of doing so much alone but hussie took the time to build her and sollux's relationship as one of a unit; a set.
the ambiguity of their status does complicate things, but i do believe it makes sense with their characters. aradia's relationship with romance is a rocky one, the dubious stringalong equius had with her is a pointed reminder that her feelings of attraction are ultimately controlled by the author writing her.
unlike the other trolls who can openly address and own up to their crushes, aradia had romantic emotions forced upon her (especially when hussie implies 'she kissed equius back on her own volition'). and it seems like her character is so intrinsically neutral abt attraction that even when forced by the almighty powers above, she's unable to retain it wholly.
however, looking back to pre-game when she could actually "choose" her own feelings, she did have a crush on sollux.
their soft spots for each other were so obvious to the point where other people could see it.
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taunting aside, when vriska comments on their unit as bf/gf it actually informs the audience that arasol's relationship is romantic in nature despite not aligning with the quadrant system.
even while dead, aradia could still describe her care for sollux, expressing that she would like to see him happy. if they had more time to explore their relationship on alternia, it's possible they could've settled in a quadrant once they grew older.
but going back to the lack of labels, their dynamic was affected once more when aradia became god tier.
to me, her ascension was both the perfect culmination and possible closure of her character. it's the light at the end of her journey toiling through countless of timelines where she had to actively assess and participate. that's why it's cool to see her being silly and having fun giving guidance, passively exploring and watching other people do their parts.
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and yet the joy of her freedom makes it hard to explore further introspection. if we take her by her word, she'd already come to terms with the hurt she's been through and forgiven those involved.
i can't help feeling attuned to how impersonal and detached it can be, to devote and meld your identity so completely with your designated position as Maid of Time until you've become hard for your old friends (and even some readers!) to personally connect to.
idk post-canon but i assume there’s some degree of similarity to be bridged here with aradia's god tier and how the hs2 humans' Ultimate forms was described as a consolidation of all their possibilities. since aradia's classpect is inherently of service to Time, going god-tier may have elevated her beyond personhood with the "game construct" possessing her entirely. sollux doesn't realize the extent of it bcs he's still mortal, but a part of him may have subconsciously understood this.
i think there is a core aspect to aradia that was lost to the dehumanizing glory of god tier — a core aspect that may have contained an element of why sollux enjoyed talking to her in the first place.
to him, aradia hadn't just been a nice girl, she was a cool girl. despite not having much in common, he's still willing to chill next to her so she's not alone while she does what needs to get done.
back on alternia, they held a mutual and equal-level regard for each other that could've definitely settled into something permanent. but now, he's placed himself in a position where he can be kept around or left behind at will. the parameters of the relationship are largely in aradia's court, so any label she suggests to identify their relationship with he's likely to accept.
but that's why it's so difficult to label it. because god tier aradia may not necessarily Want quadrants or relationship labels. rather than the initial romantic attachment, their commitment to each other had evolved into one fundamentally of companionship.
no label? ok fine. no matter what, he still thinks she's a good soul worth latching on to. the best, actually. aradia > everyone else.
even if it gets stilted at times. there's an unexpected struggle to connect when sollux's go-to default for talking points is his feelings about things, and aradia may not want to talk about emotions all the time.
not to mention god tier aradia became an observer, especially of chaos. but sollux's avoidance of involvement comes partially from his innate pressure to get involved if something goes wrong. and he can't always tell when something goes wrong, because aradia doesn't mind if things go wrong anymore.
it's a non-negotiable preference that causes them to take the occasional time apart, a new boundary that wouldn't have existed before the game and aradia's god tier.
but just like how his friends tolerated his moods, sollux accepts aradia as she is. with no quadrants, their connection doesn't break down because there's no implicit romantic expectations to be disappointed by or resentful over.
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sometimes when i see hs content that deliberately distances sollux from aradia, i assume this is the dissonance people might have felt. people might find it "easier" to be cynical about them bcs of this strange tension.
but idc lmao. grab that shit by the neck
lack of easy resolutions and cleanly tied ribbons is pretty standard of homestuck and imo it doesn't make arasol's dynamic any less incredible. with the right affection and consideration, there's still so much potential to develop the nuance of their relationship outside of the popular quadrant-based depictions.
hs has a lot of really great character compatibilities but the way aradia and sollux are in their own special orbit is why i can write this much about them in the first place. it's that frail innocence between first loves that makes it so sweet to me, two kids who grew up too fast playing guesswork without being clear where they're going.
ultimately i do think you're meant to feel a little tragedy for just how much they care for each other, even if they can't quite establish it in simple terms.
maybe they keep taking breaks to progress their own paths. maybe they remain as anchor partners while seeing other people. but even if you decide to separate them, they're still (awkwardly) texting each other updates all the while. and when they reunite it feels like coming home.
and well. more than anything, i like to believe that they do want to be exclusive.
they're just afraid. after all, they're still learning how to love, beyond the projections of the foursquare quadrant system they had inadvertently distanced themselves from since young.
they might not have everything figured out, but they'll get there eventually if you just hold them together and write them there.
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optional post-canon segment:
one of the limitations of main hs is that (monogamous) relationships are often written as the go-to solution to wrap up character growth; it's an easy "patch" to imagine characters getting their happy ending because they have a partner, and those who don't end up with someone don't get that closure (most notably jade).
hs2 reaffirms this by suggesting that aradia's character cannot progress without letting sollux go, because happily settling in a relationship automatically locks your potential.
that pathetic panel of sollux staring emptily into the sky is still my fave hs2 spoiler ngl i find the impact of their parting so emotionally provoking precisely bcs they were written in original hs to be each other's forever, coming back together again and again
but now, they're subject to the decisions of the post-canon authors who might choose to deviate from that.
it's not new for them to part, but now there's an underlying worry that her dropping him off this time might be the last time. while i think the prospect of shattering their stability to make them grow separately sounds fun on paper, no amount of me desperately hoping for a good execution is gonna guarantee it
idk. i guess prediction-wise im expecting sollux in classic dramatic-hs2 fashion to tell dave to back off aradia LMAO. otherwise it's just gon be sollux and karkat pathetically watching aradia and dave from a distance swimming in their unresolved feelings for narratively-powerful time players smh obvs it sounds corny as hell but who knows its still plausible
srsly tho i hope they take the opportunity to develop arasol's relationship in a fresh direction that doesn't hurt me too badly...... and i hope they force sollux out of his comfort zone. i like watching him struggle :-)
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harringroveera · 1 month
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Billy: Buckley, what are you doing?
Robin: I’m about to go out and see how Steve’s date goes
Billy: Harrington got a date? Which unfortunate girl got set up with him now?
Robin: Someone in class. I’m just there in case he needs rescue, if it’s a horrible date
Billy: Alright, you want a ride?
Robin: …you want to give me a ride to go see Steve?
Billy: Sure
Billy: And then maybe I can stay to watch Harrington with you too. Clearly, just in case his date is too persistent and I gotta work my charms on her to save Harrington’s ass
Robin: …
Robin: Okay, sure, whatever
Billy: Anyway, you think my hair’s okay?
Robin: Yeah?
Billy: Okay, cool, let’s go
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xen-xa · 1 year
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This is for the Dreamling fandom with Hob rescuing Dream from the fishbowl fics.
I’m the second one.
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orangechickenpillow · 2 years
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I love that we all sort of unanimously agree that if Hob had found out Dream was being held captive, he would have stormed the Burgess’ basement with guns a-blazing and like 400 years of pent up fury to get his friend back, and then would have immediately turned into the most tender, most emotional mess because “oh god, how could they do this to you? How could I not have known?” while Dream would just melt into a puddle against his chest. 
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buffyaddict13 · 1 year
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Detective Tsukauchi asks for Eraser Head’s help investigating a series of abductions around Musutafu.
The abductees–taken specifically for their Quirks–are sold on the dark web to the highest bidder. The man in charge of the Quirk Trafficking Ring is known as Oblivion. His Quirk is like the River Lethe of Greek mythology…all who encounter it enter a state of forgetfulness, and their memories are erased.
Aizawa gets a little closer to the investigation than he intends.
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