#and you can't replay levels

[dravidious]

Btw I have like three more pieces of music finished for you, just didn't have the motivation to get the drawings done for them yet

Fair enough. Anyway I've started playing Megaman Zero 3 and on the results screen for the most recent level the game just gave me the code name "Supreme Edgeboy"

[asleepinawell]

EVEN THE GREAT LOUISOIX!!!!

Aurum Vale has emerged as the winner of everyone's least favorite ffxiv dungeon (see all the poll results here) and now it will face off against the infamous Praetorium

so here it is: would you rather wipe in the first room and watch your teammates stubbornly stand in morbol breath attacks or sit through gaius' ten hour long speech yet again?

my personal opinion is that the ludicrous xp bonus for msq roulette should NOT be considered when choosing, but I can't stop you

[batsplat]

fucked up that italian is at the top of atp tour rn but he’s like the most boring italian possible. wtf.

so boring he's basically an austrian

icl, by some irony my top three most beloathed sporting nations are spain, italy and australia, so for me the way motogp works is that the most moral way to deal with those countries is to just put them in a containment zone and have them tear each other to shreds. perfect. a victimless situation, except for the spanish, italian and australian athletes in question, and crucially it is Good and Valid for them to suffer

so I typically root against italians anyway across sports, just for vibes. I don't massively have anything against the other half dozen italian men bumbling around the upper end of the tour these days, but I also know I'd generally find them annoying if they happened to be as good as sinner. (I do like paolini!! and was a schiavone appreciator as a kid, so it's not a militant anti-italian stance.) I'd find almost anyone who is as good as sinner annoying. like motogp is a very rare exception to me as far as dominant athletes go, and those guys have to be actively insane for me to not get pissed off at them. my stance is that italians are not inherently interesting.... it's just valentino specifically, and then his reflected rizz also making his various proteges interesting. motogp features an above average number of interesting italians even amongst the non-valentino-affiliated, but that's just because you have SO many of them I reckon. whereas sinner is exactly in the mould of what we've come to expect from men's tennis stars: dull professionals allergic to controversy (minus the occasional unwisely applied anabolic steroid). craziest bit has been the atp pr push to shove that man down all of our throats. they're trying to sell us hair colour as an actual personality. the carrot boys thing is literally the most obvious psyop I've seen in my life. you can't fool me, that man has not had a single mildly interesting thought in his life. I'll say it: even his tennis doesn't really move me. at least I now know better than to expect more from that stupid fuck ass tour

[sortanonymous]

Everybody: "Sure, the Angry Birds fandom is annoying with how much they've shouted "BringBack2012", but at least they're not queerphobic!

Me: "Just look at the comments under all their Pride posts (at least on YouTube) and see if you're still right."

[0rionz-belt]

i wish there was a mod or something for antonblast that had a map for just practicing different skills and moves and such without resetting a level and running back over and over. i am so unbelievably bad at literally everything in that fucking game and its a genuine miracle i beat it.

[bogkeep]

the way the most recent pokemon games don't let you turn off the exp share or the affection mechanic bonuses is nothing short of maddening. i think they make great accessibility features If Only They Were Optional and the flavour text is cute, but i want to have a fun casual playthrough that's at least mildly challenging without having to make it a nuzlocke or something. i don't want to feed my starter bitter medicines to make her hate me :(

[fromtheseventhhell]

She's so Arya-coded

[tbaluver]

Hi! I love your work and this is my first time requesting.. so please ignore if not interested! ♡

the roles are reversed and you are their favorite character and the LADS boys are the player! That’s all I hope you have a good day/night!~ 💗

When They're The MC- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: slight suggestive content below otherwise fluff ! a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you so much for requesting this was such a cute request (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i hope this was alright and if it wasn't pretend it doesnt exist ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) otherwise i hope to see you again soon anonnie ! enjoy reading ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier is the type of player to listen to your secret times or tender moments and fall asleep listening to your voice. He likes to imagine you’re right beside him before he falls into his peaceful slumber.

However he does get hard listening to your suggestive audio or scenes that play out.

Spends most of his time grinding out materials for your memories so your character is strong when he reaches end game. Almost has your DeepSpace Trial finished and your affinity level maxed.

Ignores all the calls and text messages of the other main leads except yours.

When he runs out of content for you in the game, he would find solitude on watching edits or reading fanfics of you until the game finally updates its lore for you. Sometimes he'll replay the kindle moments of his favorite cards of you, which is literally all of them.

Zayne:

Nobody expected Zayne to be the type to play this game and at first, neither did he. But he downloaded the game out of curiosity and ended up playing until he reached the end game.

He has your affinity almost maxed out while the rest of the other leads are lower level. He would know all of your lore and has read all of your anecdotes without skipping them for the gems.

Uses the quality time to keep track of his studies but he can’t help but often glance at his screen and find you glancing back at him as well.

He has the Aurum Pass Premium and saves all of his diamonds for your upcoming banners. Does not even bother checking any of the other main leads in the game unless the banner included you

He ONLY plays this game in his room or whenever he's alone. Even though he has his headphones in, he can't help but look around to make sure nobody heard any of your suggestive sounds that sounded like a breathy moan. His ears would turn so red and he can't help but find his hand sliding down his pants

Rafayel:

The type of player that took hours customizing his character to make sure it looks exactly like him. He spends a lot of time with his character and yours in the photo booth. He tries to do a lot of glitches so it looks like you guys are kissing or hugging or him hitting it from the back.

The type that never lets you have a turn at the claw machine. If you managed to have a turn first, he’s IMMEDIATELY requesting to have the next turn. Yes, he thinks your pout is cute whenever you don’t get the plushie but he is NOT wasting any affinity points.

He would use all of his daily emojis just to talk to you and pokes you a lot in the cafe until you get annoyed.

The type to make the most beautiful fanart of you and make the most entertaining edits of you on social media. The type to freak out when he hears your solo banner is coming. He’s literally kicking his feet and rolling around in his bed in excitement

Sylus:

Sylus wasn’t interested in the game at first until your trailer kept popping up and out of curiosity and interest in your character, he decided to try it.

He became the BIGGEST spender when it comes to only your character. He would have all your cards maxed out from the levels and to the protocores. Each card he has of you would be ranked up to level 3 and most of your five stars are awakened. He has all your outfits and all of your poses.

However he would have the biggest frown on his face when he loses his pity the first couple of pulls. That’s not going to stop him until he has all your memories.

He is the type to tease your character by touching you a lot in the cafe to the point you're crossing your arms with a pout and your cheeks are flushed.

Spends a while in the photobooth to stare at your chest or you characters butt. Shamelessly tries to do a couple dirty glitches and the thought of you being real wouldn't leave his mind

Bonus: They all hate Lemonette.

[insertdisc5]

TIMELOOP GAMES REAL!??!??!!

hi i made a timeloop game called In Stars and Time and this is a whole post about other timeloop games you can also play.

some i liked. some i loved. some i didnt like. all are worth playing and like also listen the second friends and family heard i was making a timeloop game, i got bombarded with timeloop media recs. so here is a sampler in no particular order! NOTE: knowing some of those games are timeloop games is a spoiler. but. you are here. for timeloop games. so timeloop games you shall have

Outer Wilds

If you need to play one timeloop game, it's this one. Please play it blind. I swear to god you won't regret it. it's timeloops in space!!! it makes you think!!! there are so many "HOLY SHIT WAIT I GET IT NOW" moments!!! please just go play it please please please. some of the best environmental storytelling in a game. so many hints in plain sight. JUST PLAY IT

[way more timeloop games under the cut]

Oxenfree

I didn't actually like Oxenfree very much. But also it stayed in my mind for weeks after I finished playing it. that's how you know it's a good game. I really enjoyed the dialogue system in this, and how much the loop affected the characters. and it got so spooky!!!

Hikeback

i'm in the credits for this one because i was one of the inspirations heehee <3 i loved playing it… short little game about trust, self-sabotage, and never-ending cycles. highly recommend it

The Stanley Parable

Listen babes it absolutely counts. I replayed it a bunch while making ISAT, and I got immensely inspired by the dialogue, and how it catches you off guard sometimes? You get SO SO used to the narrator's "All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?" at the start of every game, and then for no reason instead it says "A soft wind blew outside and perhaps rain started, and if it did it stopped shortly after. Stanley hoped that he would one day see weather." like WHAT THE FUUUUCK IM GETTING CHILLS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT

12 minutes

ok i know we all made fun of this game when it came out because the story is batshit insane HOWEVER!!!!!!!! i REALLY REALLY LOVED how doing the same actions multiple times would have slightly different outcomes. If you battle someone, the first time you get knocked out in one hit and the loop restarts. the second time you try, you evade the first hit, but get knocked out. the third time, you last a little bit longer, and a little bit longer, until you can pretty much hold your own against your enemy. And it applies to so many things in this. Retrying different things to see how they would change was a delight.

this game is also so bad its almost good, and if you're interested you HAVE to play it with friends so you can yell about how bad it is together.

Zero Escape

it's just a good series ok. escape rooms, and also time loops! the 3rd game in particular goes deep into The Math of how timeloops would work, which i think is interesting. sometimes timeloop games just go "yeah you can timeloop dont worry about it" and others go "OK HERE'S THE HOW AND WHY IT WORKS" and both are interesting!

START AGAIN: a prologue

this game has almost everything i could wish for in a timeloop game. depression. lines repeating. dying brings you back. you get new levels and skills because you're aware of the loops but your party members don't. so you get overpowered next to them and they Notice. just. party members who dont know about the loops still noticing something is wrong. you are acting differently than yesterday. you look sad. you are acting weird. you know too much. how did you know where the keys were? how did you know this would happen? what's wrong? talk to us. and oh my god this game has a sequel? which will probably have Actually Everything i could wish for in a timeloop game? i can't wait. who made this? (its me i made this)

Ghost Trick

ok its not really time loops and more time travel and only for 4 minutes HOWEVER!!!! you should play it. you know you should play it because everyone says so. so go play it

Elsinore

im sure its a great game but ive never seen/read hamlet. so thats a failing on my part. because. you absolutely need to know hamlet to understand this game lol i did like the whole "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop"! very fun. or it would be. if i. knew. hamlet

The Forgotten City

a friend kept recommending it to me and i didn't like it. its good! just not for me. but if you like to think a lot you should play it. another "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop" game

Gnosia

Gonna be real. I didn't like the story very much, in part because the game lets you choose your gender but still acts like youre a straight dude. HOWEVER the gameplay was very inspiring to me. Every loop is pretty much just an among us meeting, and you have to find out who the imposters are or everyone dies and you loop again. and sometimes you ARE the imposter, so you need to make sure no one finds out. or you loop again. rules get added as time goes on too. i REALLY loved how quickly the loops stacked up. seeing "loop 100" was such a nice moment. ive been here so long! i tried to recreate that somewhat for my own game…

Loop Hero

Technically not a timeloop game, but a loop game. It still absolutely counts because it's about loops and memories, and what are loops and memories together if not a timeloop. You have your little guy going through a closed loop, battling enemies, getting cards, and making the world whole again by using those cards to make forests, towns, lakes come to life. I am famously a Story First Gameplay Second kinda player, but I did play this 45h for the gameplay alone. I learned a lot about battle balancing and randomness by playing this!

You and Me and Her: A Love Story

you know doki doki litterature club? this came before. and one might say. it's. better. in some parts (and i say that as someone who LOVED ddlc!) i won't say much except it's a dating sim but with timeloops. with a lot of what it implies. why are you dating this girl a second time? a third time? a fourth time? choose another one already! it was such a fascinating game to play, and is incredibly meta in the way it talks about dating sims and visual novels. had a lot of very impactful moments however, i played the hentai version. some of the worst, most cringy sex ive ever read and heard. however, one might say the sex is an integral part of the game and its deconstruction of hentai/dating sims…? no. just play the steam version which doesnt have the horrible sex scenes and you will have a great time i think (or play the hentai version. if you like. to watch. horrible sex scenes???)

Higurashi

knowing this is a timeloop game is a massive spoiler. however, this game is more than a decade old, so,,, honestly if you havent played higurashi what are you doing. i know i just spoiled you on it but i was also spoiled on it and i can GUARANTEE YOU that you will still have an amazing time. one more thing. you gotta play with the original sprites or you're a fake fan

I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

starts as a visual novel/management sim/dating sim kinda thing, until you realize that every replay is a new timeline. so the main character can save people, because they remembered about them dying in a previous one. i wish the timeloop would affect the game/story more (let me find a certain character quicker once ive found them in a previous playthrough!!!), but timeloop aside, it's a very fun game to play!!!

that's it! hope you will find a nice timeloop game you like

[keferon]

Sorry in advance for the word vomit but. I love the whole Jazz-and-Prowl figuring out the language barrier but also consider:

They don't.

Prowl's been captured by Quintessons and is currently thinking of ways to completely scrape his processor so they can't get any useful data, only to get rescued by a random mech. They fight their way out (the mech is extremely proficient in combat). At first he thinks it's a drone- it looks at him when he asks questions but doesn't answer (responds to noise, not language), it is sparkless (not alive) and it makes random but entirely incoherent noises and doesn't even ping (not able to communicate). Prowl has no idea what's going on but he's too injured to make it back to base alone and it's helping him? So. He chalks it up to some waylaid stealth military asset and tries to think of ways to both get it back to base whilst also making sure it's not some sort of Quintesson Trojan-horse [10%].

Meanwhile, Jazz was sent to blow up a Quintesson command camp by his organisation but instead he got thrown through a weird portal, and found a pilot all tied down and probably being tortured so naturally he busted him out but uh. He has no idea what the other is saying. He's talking in total tonal gibberish. Not that he's judging, he's heard some stuff about how far other piloting programs are willing to go to advance neural technology. And his face! He has one! A handsome one. Must be some advanced shit because he's got micro expressions and he's using them to frown as him. Anyways, Jazz's got bigger fish to fry. The sky's a different colour, there are two suns and atmo is reading terribly low levels of O2. Maybe he and this pilot got thrown into an alien planet? Cool- well, actually pretty bad but hey they're in this together.

Prowl knows by models that they're bound to run into another Quintesson patrol eventually, and based on the drones alertness to its surroundings, his previous observations to its capacity to fight, and how it doesn't stray to far from him, if patrol numbers are favourable [1-8 range] they can survive [70, .5]% the route back to base. But the drone is reckless and abandons him to the melee (how can a drone be reckless?) and Prowl gets injured worse. Energon drips from wounds, and the angle makes it challenging for him to patch it. But the drone creeps closer, folds to its (knees? Its joints are in an odd but effective configuration) and gently (gently?) begins to mimic (clumsily) Prowl's motions of patching his wounds. Here is where Prowl falters, because drones are not so careful. Drones do not do not look up multiple times at his faceplates, and become more delicate when they see you in pain. Drones don't hold out a servo and help you to your pedes when your done. Which begs the question, if he's not a drone, so what has been done to this mech?

Jazz on the other hand is freaking the fuck out. Naturally. Because uh, he started slicing Quints, expecting Frowny to do the same because his mech was still clearly operational, only for the idiot to completely disregarded normal combat standards which can be summarised as 'fight hard or die' and instead get chewed on by some big ass teeth.

Only to see the glowing purple dripping from his torn sides, only to see that he's bleeding.

Machines don't bleed.

So Jazz figures out Frowny is an alien first. He starts pointing at himself and saying his name, insistently, until Frowny repeats it. He points at Frowny, and records and replays whatever sound bite Frowny makes until Frowny's also nodding in confirmation. He still calls him Frowny, because even though he has his name? Probably? He has no idea what it means and can't actually pronounce it (no idea how to get a mouth to move that way) but hey! Progress! He does this again and again with small things (rock, hand, cyber?animals, music (Frowny's confused at that one it's pretty adorable) ect.

Prowl has no idea what to make of this strange mech. Is he a failed experiment? A runaway from Cybertron following the Functionalists rise or power? Thennn Prowl finds out one fateful night that the mech is actually an alien organic (in a fit of misunderstandings, and squeezes him pretty hard for it ouch and feels SO guilty about it later) and suddenly the language/culture barrier makes way more sense.

Prowl's injuries degrade (a line splits). He has no way to communicate this except for the energon dripping out of his chassis. The organic is clearly worried (how did he think he was ever sparkless), and Prowl can't reach the injury himself. So he guides the mech's servos past armour and wiring, down to protoform (near his sparkchamber) to the split line. Gestures and hopes the mech can figure out what to do from his miming[#^%]. That'll he'll be careful, and won't hurt him [5%, 87%, #*%, *########%].

Frowny is later picking shrapnel stuck in his forearm that's too small for him to remove, so Jazz gets out of his mech to help with his small human hands. Jazz has no way to communicate to Frowny that if he moves, he'll sheer Jazz's limbs clean off, but he goes in anyway, because Frowny's hurt, and speckled in blood. Because he's clearly struggling and hurt and tired. Because Jazz has to trust that he won't.

Frowny's injures eventually make him collapse, and Jazz carries him the rest of the way. Jazz has no idea how they'll be received (especially considering how Frowny reacted when he found out Jazz was organic). Jazz knows he might be dissected. Knows he might be pulled apart (again) but.

He remembers all the little moments they had on their journey (Frowny shielding him from falling rubble when Jazz was out of his mech once, them getting to gesticulating arguments, Frowny's reaction to his music, how he fell asleep on Jazz once and it was fricken adorable).

It doesn't matter that Jazz can't say (barely understands) his actual name. That Frowny probably doesn't understand his. It doesn't matter that they talk in halting miming, in broken sound clips and touches and half-glares.

He's already gone out on all his limbs, might as well put his head on the chopping block. And if it causes him to lose the damn thing, well.

He's a pilot. Dying horribly is practically his job description.

OOOUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH DYING HORRIBLY IS PRACTICALLY HIS JOB DESCRIPTION,,,,,,,,,,,

[tagidearte-spam-sb]

The Daycare Attendant and Their Dialogue

A little ramble on some of the things I've noticed about their ways of speaking. This post ended up being predominantly about how they refer to one another. Most of this is speculation mixed in with my own views on them and their relationship, without discarding some other possible alternatives (for instance, although I do view them as two AIs that heavily rely on each other to function properly, I do not cast aside the interpretation that they are the same person).

(note: although I have played SB and Ruin, I did not play HW2 myself. All I know about that game has been through let's plays).

Sun is, obviously, the chattier of the two. Not only are his sentences longer, he speaks more of them in a row than Moon does - in fact, we only see Moon going on and on in Ruin (which we will discuss later).

Both of them use a lot of repetitions when speaking. From their infamous "clean up, clean up" line, to Sun's panicked "you like glitter glue? I have glitter glue!" and "light's on! Light's on! Keep the generators on!", to Moon's "hidey hide, hide away" and "bad children must be punished. Bad children must be found", "knock knock", etc. One of the first things Eclipse says is also a repetition ("warning, warning"). They appear to occasionally rhyme their words too, or at the very least use similar sounds in their sentences. This is a robot that works with young children, so it's not surprising.

On that same vein, their main insult to misbehaving children (and employees... or at least Cassie's dad) is also a repetition: "naughty, naughty" (which turns into "naughty boy" for Gregory), "rulebreaker, rulebreaker", and "bad kid, bad kid". In fact, it appears they repeat words more often when they're mad/stressed (Sun's no no nos, Moon freaking out in Ruin). Taking into account they get mad pretty easily when things don't go their way, it's not surprising we hear it so often, but it's neat.

Although both of them speak in an almost song like manner, with Sun's run on sentences flowing well between one another, Moon is the one where this is more evident due to how much shorter his lines are.

Moon is also the one who speaks in a more childish manner. Not only are his phrases shorter, he doesn't articulate them as much as Sun does, and seems to prefer shorter words and sounds, especially giggles. This makes Sun appear more developed. Key word being appear.

Sun tends to speak as if he's entertaining a crowd, doing his best to keep the attention on himself while trying to keep it fun. This is most evident in his level explanation parts in HW2, but it's also clear in SB. In Ruin, this is absent for... obvious reasons.

Both of them are somehow direct in their way of giving orders/saying what they want to do. When they can't be direct, they find workaround truths in order to conceal what they truly want to say, while keeping the main order clear (such as Sun saying the player will hurt their eyes if they work in the dark and ordering them to keep the lights on, rather than saying Moon will kill them so keep that room bright. Direct, but nicer).

Not at all important to FNAF speech lore but I think it's funny: Sun says the infamous Vanny line during the daycare intro section. "Are you having fun yet? (Are ya, are ya?)". 0.5 seconds after Gregory just stands there, which coincidentally is what Vanny does 0.5 seconds after Gregory gets into a vent (numbers exaggerated). I don't know. I just think it's funny. Replaying the daycare section after hearing Vanny yapping that line non stop gave me flashbacks.

The way they refer to each other and the pronouns they use are an entire thing, so let me separate it in two parts.

So that this post doesn't become scrolling hell on the tags, I'll keep it below the read more line:

Sun

Sun is the one who refers to himself the most. He frequently uses "I" or "me" when talking about himself, and does it way more often than Moon. Examples of this are "I have glitter glue!", "I'm stuck in a nap", "it really speaks to me", "I feel dumber just looking at it" - you get the point by now. The reason I'm going hard on this point is to contrast his way of speaking to Moon's.

When it comes to him referring to Moon, we only ever hear it twice. In HW2 he says "He'll wake up if the lights go out!". In Ruin, he says "Not me, the other me!". Besides those two voice lines, he merely alludes to Moon without ever mentioning him by name or by pronouns (such as when he says he'll turn the lights off himself, implying he'll let Moon deal with you, or when he says you can't work in the dark and instead of saying the real reason as to why, he cuts himself and goes "You'll- hurt your eyes if you work in the dark").

This is interesting for two reasons: one, we only see him directly mention his counterpart when he's in a ruined state (the HW2 voice line comes from the mask off section, when they're broken down. At least I think so); two, he simultaneously views Moon as separate from himself ("he'll wake up") and as a part of himself/another side of himself ("the other me"). You can take that as them really being the same "person", or as a reflection of their complicated body sharing situation. Take it as you will.

As far as referring to himself and Moon at the same time, he only does it in Ruin when he states "We need to be whole".

Moon

The way Moon structures his sentences means that he seldomly actually refers to himself directly. For instance, he doesn't say "I will find you" or "I will punish you", putting himself as the subject of the sentence. Instead, he puts others as the subject, wording it as "Bad children must be found" and "Bad children must be punished". This is consistent across all of his voice lines except one... Well, technically two.

To get it out of the way: there's a deleted voice line where he says "I'm putting you in time out", a line he and Sun share and which worked the same way the clean up one does - them saying the same thing, a push towards them being the same person ordeal.

The only in-game time he refers to himself directly is in Ruin. This line is also the only time he refers to both himself and Sun as a duo. This line is also the longest line of dialogue Moon has.

"(groaning noises) Naughty! Naughty! Make it stop! The light makes us hurt! Grind Grind! Grinding gears inside my head! We can't move. Error! Error!"

This line, much like Sun's, is interesting for various reasons. Even though Sun is no longer with him (being stuck in the VR world and separate from Moon, shown by how Moon can't move because the lights are on but his body can't shift into Sun, so he's completely stuck), he first refers to himself as a "us" - adding Sun into the mix. Then he refers to himself alone, "my head" instead of "ours", before going right back to a plural.

We can assume one of three things here: one, Moon refers to himself as a we more often, adding Sun into the mix, a complete opposite of his counterpart who typically speaks in singulars; or two, Sun is not as absent as he appears and in that moment he is in fact with Moon, just stuck on the passenger sit, hurting alongside him; or three, this is merely an effect of this being in the Ruin DLC where the whole point of the daycare section is to fuse Sun and Moon into the Eclipse, so the writers decided to bring the point home further. If you have more options, feel free to add them.

Side note: This voiceline also shows Moon's speaking patterns pretty well. Putting "the light" as the subject instead of "we/I", the rhyming, the repetition, the clipped sentences compared to Sun's endless ones, the noises, the scratchiness, the vague childlike mannerism... All ending with "we can't move", way more straight to the point, said right before he freezes up, which deviates from the "other subject first then me" rule due to the pain tearing through him at the moment.

Moon does not call Sun "the other me" or anything similar in any of the games. He never refers to Sun as if he too was Sun. However, we can assume his view on their situation probably mirrors Sun's - being in the same body and all -, so take it as you will.

And as for Moon referring to Sun as a separate individual... He does not refer to him as a "he". Instead, he actually mentions his counterpart by name, saying "No more Sun". Meaning he's the only one of the the two that has canonically used his other side's name. I think it's interesting how the least chatty one is the one actually calling the other by name and not the other way around. And yes, you can say it's a way of speaking and he's referring to the concept of the sun rather than saying his name, but taking into consideration Sun never utters the word moon, I'd say it's still quite a big thing.

In my headcanon land, due to the happenings at the Pizzaplex, Sun is probably too embarrassed and mortified to even mention Moon. Moon, on the other hand, has no reason to have such troubles besides hating Sun for (in his perspective) keeping him locked in a prison of light. So for me, it makes sense we never see Sun saying Moon's name, and it makes it more impactful when he actually acknowledges Moon as the other me rather than a he.

Eclipse

I lied there's three parts.

Eclipse has very few voice lines. The only one that matters here is "We need to clean this place up before we can open in the morning." This is pretty straight to the point: Eclipse, unlike Sun and Moon, doesn't use an "I". They immediately speak in the plural. They do not view themselves as just Eclipse, but rather as both Sun and Moon combined, at the same time.

As for the DCA being two AIs or one... in Ruin, Sun thanks Cassie after Eclipse is activated. It's left ambiguous. You can say Sun speaking afterwards proves they're not one and the same, "with the Sun and Moon AIs still running separately somehow", or you can assume Eclipse existing doesn't mean Sun and Moon can't keep doing their thing under safe mode, albeit in a less chaotic manner, allowing Sun's voice to come through but not making him any less Moon - he is Moon, he is Sun, and they are complicated yet very simple.

I believe in whichever version is more convenient at any given time, with a preference for "two codependent AIs" given what the games show us. Although, going by everything I collected here, the only theory I believe to just not be supported by canon at all is the one with Eclipse as a separate thing all together. Eclipse refers to themselves as a "we', not an "I". Eclipse activates when you make Sun and Moon "whole". It canonically makes no sense for Eclipse to be a third thing. (Please remember this is a post about what's in the games, the canon of FNAF. AUs and fandom or whatever, you do you).

That's it. Hope you enjoyed my rambling. Uh artblog unpaid promotion @tagidearte thank you for making it this far.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Begging for anything with aizawa pls and thanks <3 maybeee with him using his scarf involved haha

Caught!

Tags: Aizawa x fem!Reader, enemies to… lovers?, smut, nsfw, bondage, use of pet names like princess, mdni

Synopsis: You’re in the league of villains, and Aizawa manages to catch you! You’re in for it now.

An: Thank you for the request! Sorry it took me so long. NO proofreading 😔

"Did you really think you could outrun me?" Shouta's gravely voice sounded through the alleyway. Your body was currently trapped. He had you completely wrapped up with that damn scarf of his. No matter which way you thrashed, you couldn't get out.

"I was just hoping to outlast you!" You shout back, feigning confidence. In reality, your heart was pounding anxiously in your chest. You kept replaying the memory of you getting caught over and over in your head.

Shigaraki and the others just... left you completely behind. You were nothing more than a lamb to the slaughter. The slaughter just happened to be Shouta Aizawa, a notable underground pro who also teaches at U.A.. Just your luck.

His footsteps sounded through the alleyway. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The small amount of light from the streetlamp allowed for you to admire his face from the ground. His longer dark hair was tied back into a short poofy ponytail, and his glasses must've gotten knocked off at some point during the pursuit.

His tired eyes wandered over your body as you laid helplessly at his feet. His irises were glowing red, effectively wiping you of your quirk. You looked too damn soft to be a villain, but he wasn't going to underestimate someone after seeing Toga.

"You got a name, princess?" He asked before nudging your side with his boot, making you squirm away from him.

"Why would I tell you that?" You immediately spat with a defiant pout.

"You got entirely too much mouth on ya." He retorts with a small smirk. Suddenly, your body is rapidly rolling around as the scarf unravels from your midsection. He's quick to grab each ends, and he yanks the rope taut, binding your wrists together above your head. "I'm tryin' to do you a favor, so don't push your luck."

Your body feels more free, even if you're basically just as trapped as before. Though, you're finally able to breathe freely now without the scarf restraining you tightly.

"Oh, and how should I say thank you?" You ask sarcastically, expecting for him to just get irritated with you again.

Aizawa takes a few more steps forward, and he crouches down to your level on the ground. Tilting his head to the side slightly, "I can think of a few ways, but I bet you wouldn't like those."

He's a flirt???

Your eyes immediately widen in response, and you can feel the heat rushing your cheeks. It's a pretty well known fact that Aizawa is a bit of a heartthrob, but he's too unapproachable to even consider. Shigaraki would kill you if he knew that you were considering sleeping with the enemy, but he basically left you to die. So, it shouldn't be too much of a problem.

"Why are you so sure that I wouldn't?" You ask as you try to lean up against your restraints. He pulls them tighter, knocking you back against the concrete.

"A young pretty thing like you? You're just hoping to find an opening and get away." He muses as his eyes look your body up and down, shamelessly checking you out while you can't do a damn thing about it.

A small huff escapes your lips, causing him to chuckle endearingly. He finds your continued defiance to be rather amusing and cute.

"Then... don't give me an opening." You respond, giving him your most innocent smile that you could muster.

"Oh princess, are you asking me to keep you tied down..?"

You let out a shaky breath, and you reluctantly nod your head. Your thighs squish together tightly, trying to ease the warm ache that started to form between your legs.

"Ask nicely, and I'll consider it." He demands, keeping that cocky smirk on his face. The TV debuts never show this side of him. He's always portrayed as some strict stick in the mud, but right now, he was something completely different.

"Asshole-" You scoff before the scarf is yanked tightly, forcing your arms up higher. A pained whine sounds from your mouth, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he toys with you like prey.

"Now princess, I know you're a villain, but come on now... That's not very nice." He's being completely condescending, but for whatever reason, it makes your entrance clench around air, begging to be filled up by him.

"Please... keep me.. tied up-" You quietly ask, avoiding eye contact with him out of sheer embarrassment.

"You just want me to keep you tied up..? Nothing else-?" He prompts, and one of his fingers trails up your arm slowly, up towards the scarf wrapped tightly around your wrists.

"No- I.... ugh!" You exasperate in a bratty scoff. "I want you to keep me tied while.. you..." His finger slips beneath the binding, making sure he's not cutting off your circulation before he trails his finger back down your other arm.

"While I... what, princess? Spit it out. I'm on the clock, you know."

"... while you fuck me." You finally add, tilting your head away from his impregnable stare.

"Goood~" He purrs before tilting your chin back towards him. "Now, say it all together."

"That's not-" He gives you a challenging gaze, telling you that he's finished arguing. "I want you to keep me tied up while you fuck me..." His stare continues, waiting for you to tack on the 'nice' portion. "...Please."

"Was that so hard?" He asks as his hand dips between your thighs. His hand palmed at your wet cunt through the thin fabric of your pants.

"Mmn... no.." Your murmur softly. Your back arches up off the concrete, and your part your thighs slightly for him.

"Just like a damn cat. So mean and defensive until someone pets ya the right way." He muses before his fingers find the waistband of your pants. With a firm tug, you're left without pants or panties.

"Wait.. ngh... not in the alley-" Your whines fall on deaf ears as Shouta already has his head between your thighs, helping himself to your arousal.

His scruffy facial hair tickles your soft skin as he's gently kissing and biting on your thighs. Your body involuntarily squirms with each time he clamps his teeth over your flesh. "F-fuck.. ah.." It feels like heaven when his tongue finally reaches your core.

"Mmnn~ well, at least one part of ya is sweet." He muses with a grin before flattening his tongue out and lapping at your dripping cunt. His hands are tightly forcing your thighs apart, not allowing you to shy away from him at all. You could feel the imprints of his fingers being bruised into your legs. A mark of him to carry along with you.

Your hands tug against the restraints with a quiet whine as he plunges his tongue in and out of your tight entrance. It feels like he's a starved man, and you're his only source of substance to keep him alive. "F-fuuck~ Shouta.." You breathlessly whisper while your hips are subtly moving along with his tongue.

His hands slide up, and he gropes on the flesh of your ass, pulling you down harder onto his tongue. It forces him deeper into your arousal. You're practically dripping all over his nose and chin, and he lets out a grunt of approval.

"Thaaat's it, princess. Didn't think you'd be moaning a hero's name, now did ya?" He taunts as he sits up. His hands slide his belt off with ease, tossing it over to the side.

"Debatable.." You murmur lowly as your eyes fixate on his pants sliding down. He has a darkly colored happy trail that goes down to where his pubic hair. His cock is then unsheathed from his boxers.

"I see you still have that mouth on you. Guess I'm going to have to fuck it out of you." He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before he positions himself right between your thighs.

Your eyes are still glued on his length. He was big, but he was mostly girthy. His tip is swollen and red, with a line of pre-cum dripping down all from eating you out. His hand wraps around his fat length, and he fists at his length a few good times before guiding it towards your entrance.

"Wandering eyes..." He muses lowly, catching your attention. Your eyes meet his, and he gives you a small smile. "What were you looking at?"

"Uh... you.." You softly respond, feeling embarrassed that he caught you literally drooling over his cock.

"Yeah? What for?"

"I didn't know how it was gonna fit-" You start to say, but you were rudely cut off by him forcing his round tip past the ring of muscle. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you pulled harshly against the scarf.

He almost feels bad when he sees your cute face scrunched up in obvious discomfort. "You can handle it." He states bluntly before he eases his hips out, stretching the ring of muscle to fit around him. He then pushes right back in. Your wet heat coats him in a way that causes him to growl.

"Mmm.. if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're... hah.. enjoying this." He points out as his face hovers yours. His hands are planted against the ground at either side of you, holding him up above you. Your legs instinctively hike around his waist.

"Ngh..." You can't even find it in you to deny him right now. The stretch feels painful in the best way possible. You need him right now. "F-feels good~"

"Oh..? Want me to keep going then?" He asks, once again making you embarrassingly admit to wanting his cock.

"Yes... p-please Shouta.." You whine, wrapping your legs around him as if that'd stop him from leaving.

"Good girl. I'll reward you now." He praises before starting to move his hips. Your gummy walls squeeze around him, almost sucking him in with each thrust.

"Mmngh~ yes-!... right there, fuck." Your a noisy thing when you're getting dicked down, aren't you?

"Princess, don't make me gag you with my scarf." He mumbles in your ear lowly before letting out a low grown in tandem with his thrust. "G-gotta be quiet. Don't want the... mmph!... media coming out here, do you?"

You quickly shake your head no, and he gives you a small chuckle. He doesn't drill into you, instead he's slow and purposeful. He makes each thrust count as he slams into your sweet spot at a perfect tempo.

He presses small kisses along your cheek and jaw. "Bein' such a good girl for me.." He praises lowly as one of his hands snake down and starts to rub small circles on your clit.

"Hah~" You gasp as you tilt your head back. You can feel the white hot pleasure start to coil in your stomach, and your heart starts to pound in your chest. "G-gonna... gonna come.." You warn quietly as your eyes squint shut.

"Yeeaahh, that's it.... come on my cock , 's okay." He gives you permission, and immediately, he can feel you spasming around him. "Fuuck, good girl. Did so good..." He praises, and he keeps up his punishing rhythm.

"Sh-... Shouta~" You whine as you look back up at him. Your poor cute face is all fucked out. He knows your arms have to be sore from being kept above your head this entire time.

"What is it, princess?" He asks you knowingly. He already knows what you're wanting of him, but he's a fan of making you say it.

"P-please.. come inside me.."

"I've given you s'much already, and you want more? He taunts as his cock continues to fill you completely. His tip kissing your womb sloppily as he's just leaking pre-cum into you. Sopping wet noises fill the alley every time he moves. So much for being discreet.

"M-more!" You mindlessly whine in agreement. How could he deny you when you're so cute and stupid? His jaw tightens, and he begins to absolutely bully his way inside you, chasing after his own orgasm simply because you asked him so nicely.

His knees scraped against the pavement beneath your two, and his grunts were becoming more growl like and shaky. "You want more? C'mere." He demands lowly before unbinding your hands. He scoops you into his arms, and pulls you up and down along his length, practically using you as his own little toy.

Your arms immediately wrap around his neck, and you hold on for dear life as he literally knocks the breath out of you with each brutal thrust. Your mind is practically spinning, and before you know it, you're gushing around him once again.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" He taunts before he bites down onto your shoulder. His heavy balls are slapping against the flesh of your ass with each delicious plap noise. "Fuck. Gonna fill my good girl up." He groans lowly as his arms begin to shake.

His cock flexes with each pump of cum he spurts into you. For a moment, everything is quiet. The sound of both of you trying to catch your breaths fill the air before he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.

"You don't gotta tell me your name... Do you have somewhere safe to go tonight... away from those assholes?" He asks you quietly before he gently lays you back against the concrete. His cock slides out of you, unleashing a pool of mixed fluids down your ass.

"I... not really..." You answer hesitantly. You didn't exactly have a place to call home except for the league of villains' base. It's not like you expected them to practically sacrifice you.

"You'll sleep at mine tonight." He leaves no room for argument as he gets himself back dressed. He even starts to put your pants back onto your legs for you. "If you try anything, I'll tie you up and do this to you all over again."

You let out a small amused laugh. "Don't threaten me with a good time, eraser."

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 3

___________________

"Missing: If found dead or alive, please contact the authorities"

Dick feels like he's about to puke, every time he sees that fucking poster, every time it's played in the news

He feels like he failed, not just as Nightwing, but as a brother, he was supposed to be a protector, projecting you as a vigilante and as a hero

Everything keeps replaying in his head, how you were always out of theme in family photos because Damian keeps telling you the wrong one, but no one bothers to tell you the real one

How in a single day, everything you've ever built was abandoned, your room, your school, your friends (he wasn't sure if you had any) (ps: you didn't, Damian wouldn't let it happen)

How no one was there to help

And he saw another poster "bring back dead or alive"

He wasn't sure how he's going to accept if you're actually dead

Because if you're alive, there could be a chance, he'd apologize to you, and he knows you're kind enough to accept it, he'll spend lost time with you, and everything will be fine

But with every minute that passes, it feels like slowly you are pulling away further from him (if it's still possible that you could be pulled further than you are now)

________________________

2 years ago

"How long are you gonna keep disappointing me like this...?" Bruce sighed deeply

He got your report card, funny enough, the only time he sees you is when you do something wrong

And it wasn't like you failed either, it's just that it's lower than what your siblings got, it's lower than his standards

Well sorry you're not Tony Stark level, am I right? Ahaha-

You weren't stupid, you just weren't as smart as your siblings, in your defense you were smarter than them at some other stuff, it's just that it's the stuff your father didn't care about

"Dad are you finally throwing out the anchor?" Damian snickered

You huff at the insult, knowing if you insult him back you'll get in trouble "it's not even that bad-"

Jason furrows his brows "yeah, but it's not good enough, I hope you realize how lucky you are compared to the other kids in Gotham, you should repay it by being outstanding"

"And not to mention as the first born biological child you should uphold yourself to the standards given to you, if you can't do that then stand down" Tim scoffs at you

That comment may or may not be from an insecurity that he isn't Bruce's real kid (despite being more loved than you)

"don't you think you're being too dramatic? I don't even want that stupid company" you grit your teeth

"that stupid company is what keeps a roof over your head, stop being so ungrateful"

Damian's face has that shit-eating grin once again "throw it out the streets maybe then it'll know"

It's always that fucking suggestion that throws you off, every fight, they call you a burden in this house, they want you out

You feel like if it weren't going to be a legal problem Bruce would have done it

"you guys are so full of yourselves, I don't know where you pull the 'i'll fix Gotham' mentality when you can't even fix your own issues" you grab your grades and leave

"You fucking-" you hear Damian say but you ran to your room, to the far corner of the Manor, a guest bedroom (you were kicked out of your master bedroom when Damian came, his reason was "it's too stressful seeing it everyday", so they moved you)

______________________

Present

"Diana...?" Bruce calls

"Diana!, what is it!?" Bruce yells "What do you see?"

Diana looks like she's about to cry, as she examines the footage in front of her

another demigod dead

She thinks, her hands shaking at the sight of another child, like she once was, dying at the hands of those monsters who hunt them down

Does Bruce know? It didn't seem like he did, if he knew- he would have protected the kid right?

Then she sees light, she sees the little kid run into the garden, and meet nymphs, she sees the kid escape

"oh thank the gods..." She whispered

Without saying another word, she left the tower, leaving the others confused, she knew where the kid was

(Name) was safe at camp

_______________________

I just finished an exam and the entire time I was taking it, the edit of "dynamic duo", starring Nightwing and Redhood kept playing in my head

Also this series is gonna have multiple parts, I wanna make things easier for you guys :3 , how do you make a masterlist?

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

@bat1212 @vanessa-boo @sweetconnoisseurgardener

[autistichalsin]

The way antis use "you feel sad when a fictional character dies" as 'proof' that fiction affects reality and you psychologically can't tell the difference, when in truth it actually DISPROVES their entire point.

Yeah. You feel 'sad' when a fictional character dies.

You know what doesn't happen? Grieving a fictional character. Crying fits that come out of nowhere for months or years afterward. Looking for them every time you're reminded of them, expecting them to be there. Not being able to eat at times. Replaying your last conversation/interaction constantly in your mind. Guilt. Refusing to ever get rid of anything that reminds you of them, then finding yourself willing to part with one thing, and then spending weeks regretting it. Wondering on every holiday what they would be doing if they were alive.

THAT doesn't happen. You feel sadness when a character dies, not grief. And that proves, that on every level, you are FULLY aware that fiction is not reality. Every single example antis find of people 'not being able to tell them apart' actually falls apart with even the tiniest bit of critical thinking.

[ourseasone]

CHAPTER 001 ∘ ∘ ∘ for fuck's sake

previous masterlist next

fucking stupid.

as soon as you open your eyes and take in your surroundings, the realization hits you like a ton of bricks: you've been utterly, irredeemably stupid.

the place you're in is unfamiliar and unnerving. a dull ache pulses in your temples, but it's not nearly enough to distract you from the bitter storm of self-recrimination swirling in your head. did you really hand yourself over to potential kidnappers like some naive idiot from a bad thriller movie? as you mentally replay the events that led you here, you can't help but wince at your own idiocy.

stupid, stupid, stupid!

but honestly, could anyone really blame you? could anyone in your position have turned down such a tempting offer ━ a chance to earn an unimaginable amount of money just by playing a few games? you were desperate. hell, desperate doesn't even begin to cover it. you were drowning in debt, with creditors breathing down your neck and no lifeline in sight. the offer had felt like a miracle, a hand reaching out to pull you from the abyss. who wouldn't cling to that?

still, there's a difference between desperation and outright stupidity. and now, you're painfully aware which side you landed on.

the room you're in is massive, disorientingly so. its sheer scale makes you feel like a speck of dust trapped in an enormous void. the walls loom high above, featureless and sterile, painted in some dull, colorless hue that makes the space feel even colder. it's a dormitory of sorts, packed with bunk beds that stretch upward like towers. you count five levels, maybe more, stacked so precariously that you half-expect someone to fall off the top at any moment.

in the center of the room is a massive screen with the number 456. you have no idea what it means, but something about it makes your stomach churn uneasily. your gaze sweeps over the people gathered in the room ━ a sea of strangers dressed in identical green tracksuits.

it's only when you glance down at yourself that you realize you're wearing the same dull green outfit. your fingers brush over a patch sewn onto your chest: 127. your number. the sight of it triggers fragmented memories: leaving your house last night, wearing your usual black tracksuit, and...

your eyes narrow.

did those freaks actually change my clothes?

the thought sends a wave of revulsion crashing over you. it's not just the outfit; they must have taken your personal belongings too. your phone. your wallet. your everything. the implications of that alone make your skin crawl. these people stripped you down ━ literally ━ without your consent, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

"fucking hell," you mutter under your breath, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

before you can sink further into spiraling thoughts, a sharp ringing noise jolts you back to reality. a bell. it's been going off for a while now, but you were too preoccupied to notice. the other people around you are stirring, climbing out of their bunks and shuffling toward the center of the room.

you hesitate, your eyes darting across the crowd, searching for even a single familiar face.

nothing.

everywhere you look, there are strangers. hundreds of them, all milling about in the same green tracksuits, each marked with a different number.

you sigh. reluctantly, you slide off your bunk and join the crowd. attracting unnecessary attention doesn't seem like a good idea, and staying put isn't much better.

the moment your feet hit the cold floor, the room's massive doors creak open, and a group of people in red jumpsuits enters. their faces are completely obscured by masks. you instinctively step back, leaning against one of the bunk bed frames as you try to put some distance between yourself and the crowd.

the man at the front of the group speaks first. his voice is low and slightly muffled by the square-shaped mask he wears.

"i would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you."

you tilt your head, studying the group dressed in red with narrowed eyes. the leader's mask is square, while the others in the back wear circles.

is there some sort of hierarchy here? and why the masks? are they hiding their identities? does that mean you've stumbled into some kind of fucking illegal place?

"everyone here will participate in six different games over six days," the square-masked man continues. "those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize."

cash prize. the words send a shiver down your spine. your heart flutters with a strange mix of anticipation and dread.

the room falls into a deathly silence for a brief moment, as everyone exchanges glances with each other.

"excuse me," someone finally spoke up.

your gaze shifted toward the voice. it belonged to a woman ━ number 120, according to the patch on her chest. she stepped forward with a confident air, but your sharp eyes caught the subtle tremble in her hands.

"you said we'd be playing games," she said, her voice steady but edged with steel. "but you practically kidnapped us. how can we trust you?"

it was a valid question, and one you had been wondering yourself. you didn't even know where you were, let alone who brought you here.

"i apologize," the masked replied. "please understand that it was necessary to maintain the game's security."

before you could even process that flimsy excuse, the room erupted into chaos. voices rose in a cacophony of anger and confusion as the crowd began hurling questions and accusations at the masked figures.

"what's with the masks, then? is your face a secret too?"

"yeah! why are you hiding your identity? are we in some kind of illegal gambling house?"

"even dealers don't cover their faces like this!"

you didn't bother adding to the noise. you doubted you'd get any real answers, and besides, you were too busy sorting through your own thoughts. still, you listened carefully, hoping someone else's questions might align with your own.

eventually, the masked man managed to regain control of the room.

"to ensure fair gameplay and confidentiality, it is our policy not to reveal the faces and identities of staff," he said. "please understand."

you rolled your eyes. the vagueness of that explanation was almost insulting.

"did you take my clothes and put these on me?" another girl piped up.

"what's with these shoes?" a guy said. "my shoes are limited fucking edition. they're hard to find! you going to replace them if they get ruined?"

you weren't sure whether to be amused or deeply concerned.

"these don't fit, and the color sucks," the girl grumbled. "can i just have what you're wearing instead? i like pink."

this time, you were genuinely amused by the absurdity of her complaints, and the person next to you shot you a weird look when you stifled a laugh.

"i'm sorry, but that is not possible. you must be in your uniforms for the games," replied the square guy, his tone flat and unyielding.

as the conversation moved on without you, you allowed your thoughts to wander, sinking deeper into the chaos in your head.

if you really thought about it, maybe this whole game thing wasn't some elaborate scam after all. maybe it was real. the rules, the setup, the masked figures ━ it all seemed ludicrous, but wasn't that the point of reality shows? the absurdity, the spectacle?

could it be something like the ddakji game you played with that strange man on the subway? granted, that had been straightforward ━ nothing more than flipping tiles and enduring a slap. this, however, seemed infinitely more intricate.

but still, it couldn't be anything that bad, right? it's not like someone was going to die or anything.

you pressed your lips together as doubt gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. then again, if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was.

not that it mattered to you. you needed the money. no, needed didn't even cover it. you were drowning, suffocating under a mountain of debt. you'd run out of options long ago, and these games ━ whatever they were ━ had shown up like a beacon in the night.

six games. just six. that's what the masked man had said. how hard could it be?

you snapped back to reality as the masked man's voice echoed through the room, pulling you from the haze of your thoughts. at first, you thought you'd misheard the announcement, that your mind was playing tricks on you, twisting words in a desperate attempt to distract you from the absurdity of your surroundings.

"player 333, lee myeong-gi."

you froze. no. it couldn't be. there had to be hundreds of people in south korea with that name. thousands, maybe. yeah, it was a coincidence. just a cruel coincidence. it had to be.

but the faint hope you clung to crumbled as quickly as it had formed. the square-masked guy gestured toward the massive screen at the center of the room. the lights dimmed slightly, and your breath hitched when the screen lit up with a video.

the grainy footage played in full view of everyone.

your ex-boyfriend ━ the one you'd broken up with just a few months ago, cut all ties with, and tried to erase completely from your life ━ was on the screen, getting slapped across the face with an almost comical force. the sound of the slap echoed louder than it should have, reverberating in your ears like a twisted mockery.

for a split second, you thought you might laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the laughter caught in your throat, choking you.

of all people in the world, it had to be him? and of all places, it had to be here?

you clenched your jaw, a silent scream ricocheting through your mind. you had no idea how to process what you were feeling. anger? disbelief? a nauseating mix of both?

the universe wasn't just mocking you ━ it was toying with you. what were the odds? your hands curled into fists at your sides as you glared at the screen, trying to will it away.

more videos flashed onto the screen, showing other participants getting slapped, but you barely registered them. you prayed, prayed, that your own face wouldn't appear next. it wasn't just about avoiding humiliation, though that was a large part of it. the real terror clawing at your chest was the thought of myeong-gi spotting you here, in this hellhole of a situation.

to your immense relief, your face never appeared on the screen. maybe the universe didn't hate you entirely.

"all of you in this room have crippling debts and are now on a cliff-edge. when we first came to you, you did not trust us either," the masked man continued. "but as you know, we played a game and gave you money as promised. and so you trusted us and volunteered to participate according to your own free will."

you exhaled sharply, your patience wearing thin.

"tou have one last chance to decide. do you want to live like a piece of trash, running from creditors? or will you seize the last opportunity we are offering?"

the logic was irrefutable. what else could you do? this was your last shot at digging yourself out of the bottomless pit of your life. the alternative was to crawl back into the misery you'd come from. that wasn't living ━ it was surviving. and you were tired of surviving.

the lights dimmed again, and the room filled with whispers of confusion as a mechanical hum descended from above. you glanced up and blinked in disbelief as a massive piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling. suspended in midair, its glossy surface gleamed under the fluorescent lights.

"what the hell?" you muttered to yourself.

a piggy bank?

"what you see now is the piggy bank where your valuable prize money will be stored," the masked man explained. "after each of the six games you will play, the prize money will accumulate in this piggy bank."

you stared at the giant pig, your thoughts racing.

how much money are we even talking about here?

someone beat you to the question. "how much is the prize money?"

you straightened slightly, trying to appear indifferent as you shoved your hands into your pockets. but your ears were tuned to every word, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"the prize money for the games is 45.6 billion won in total."

your breath caught, and your lips parted as the number settled in your brain. 45.6 billion won?

"holy shit..." you murmured under your breath.

your mind reeled, struggling to process the sheer enormity of it. that wasn't just life changing ━ it was life shattering. it was enough to erase every ounce of debt you had and still live comfortably for the rest of your days.

"and one of us will get it?" the guy from earlier pressed.

"we will give you the details about the distribution of the prize money after the first game. for these games, you will be given a special new advantage."

"what is it?" an elderly man asked.

"after each game, you will be given a chance to vote on whether to continue the games or not. if the majority votes to stop the games, you can leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point."

you rolled your eyes. quit now, when there's that much money at stake? who in their right mind would even consider that?

"are you saying," someone speaks up again, "we'll still receive the money, even if we leave after the first game?"

the square-masked man is silent for a moment before finally responding. "that is correct."

what happens next, you have no fucking idea.

the number burns into your brain, larger than life and impossible to fully comprehend. if you win the six, that staggering amount of money would be yours. 45.6 billion.

it was life-altering on a scale you couldn't wrap your head around. your hands instinctively tighten in your pockets as you fight the urge to fidget. it's insane. completely absurd. yet here it is, dangling in front of you like a glimmering prize at the end of a dark and twisted tunnel.

your thoughts drift to the game that had brought you here ━ the bizarre ddakji match with the man in the suit on the subway. that had been pretty easy, almost laughably so. a simple flip of a folded paper tile. you were only slapped twice. could the games here really be just as simple? just six games, and all your suffering, all your debts, all your problems would evaporate like smoke.

it's too good to be true. you know that. deep down, in the rational part of your mind, you know this entire setup is shady as hell. the masked organizers, the strange location, the sheer amount of money ━ it all screams danger. but what choice do you have? your desperation outweighs your doubt.

if things get too complicated... maybe you'll think about quitting. maybe.

a sudden shuffle of movement breaks your reverie, and you blink, snapping back to the present. you realize, with a jolt of mild panic, that all the participants have lined up in seven orderly rows. your stomach churns as you glance around, trying to piece together what you missed.

damn it, when had they given instructions?

swallowing your unease, you decide to play along. you quickly step into the second row, adopting an air of indifference to mask your confusion. hopefully, no one notices you're completely clueless.

when your turn finally comes, you step forward. the masked person standing before you is silent, their posture unnervingly still. they hand you a piece of paper without a word. your gaze drops to the document, your eyes scanning the text.

▍ PLAYER  CONSENT  FORM : O1. a player's not allowed to voluntarily quit the games. O2.  a player who refuses to play will be eliminated. O3.  the games may be terminated upon a majority vote. in case of a tie, players will vote again. O4.  if the games are terminated, players will divide the prize equally.

the rules are simple, concise, and far too ominous for your liking. the word 'eliminated' stands out like a glaring red flag, but you force yourself not to dwell on it.

you exhale slowly, your breath barely audible, before picking up the pen lying next to the form. your hand hovers for a brief moment, but it's not hesitation. you've made up your mind already. without overthinking it, you scrawl your signature at the bottom of the page, sealing your fate.

whatever you're signing up for, it can't be worse than the life you're already living.

you'd planned to head back to your bed after this. all the endless talking had worn you out. all you want now is to collapse onto your bed and let the weight of the day fade into nothing.

but, of course, life never goes according to plan.

a scream echoes through the room, and you turn your head to find the source ━ standing in the center of the commotion, flushed with equal parts embarrassment and irritation, is none other than your ex-boyfriend.

you only stare. you’ve got to be kidding me.

the man is mid-argument with another participant. from what you can gather, myeong-gi seems to be getting scolded, though the exact reason escapes you. you sigh, dragging a hand down your face as frustration bubbles to the surface.

of course. of course, it's him.

"for fuck's sake," you mutter, shaking your head as you turn away from the scene.

you're too tired to deal with this right now.

previous masterlist next

note ∘ ∘ ∘ for obvious reasons, in this book, myeong-gi is not the one who got my girl junhee pregnant. i just don't have the energy to craft an elaborate storyline around those circumstances.

taglist ∘ ∘ ∘ @suunani @academiq @startaegi @okaycharr @mayaswrld1212 (please let me know if you wanna be added!)

[reiding-writing]

Incessant Insomnia [ s.r ]

summary:

The BAU had just finished a case across the country in California, and were now finally on the jet to fly back home, needless to say, everyone was absolutely exhausted and very ready to get some shut eye during the 5 hour flight. Trouble was, Spencer couldn’t sleep, even though he had managed to bag the jet’s sofa, which was arguably the comfiest place on the plane.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers?

warnings: mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of child death, mentions of touch-starvedness, no use of y/n

wc: 2.4k

masterlist!!

a/n: this is my first upload so please bare with me i’m still learning 😭

As you board the jet alongside your team, you can't help but notice the exhaustion etched on Spencer Reid's face. It had been a grueling week, with a disturbingly gruesome case across the country that took all semblance of mental energy out of the team to solve. Spencer, ever known for his genius-level intellect and unwavering dedication, didn’t take a single moment to rest throughout it.

And even as he scored the jet’s long sofa for the flight, arguably the most comfortable place on the plane, that moment of rest still didn’t arrive, and Spencer had long given up trying to fall asleep by the time the jet had stablised at 40,000 feet.

He’d tried everything, a Tchaikovsky Sonata playing through his cheap headphones, a travel pillow around his neck, his shoes discarded on the floor so he could curl up his legs under him, he’d even counted the amount of dimmed lightbulbs in the light strips and the number of creases in the leather bound chairs. Nothing. And he was becoming increasingly jealous of the rest of the team resting soundly in their seats.

He’d battled with insomnia for most of his life, a curse of his intelligence as he liked to call it, his mind constantly running so fast it never gave him any time to relax. But this was a little different. Spencer hated working cases involving children, for what ever reason they seemed to press all of the wrong buttons in his mind, and in this instance, the child they’d been called out to save had died before the team had even arrived in California to help.

Spencer couldn’t seem to get the image of anguish from the child’s mother from his mind, replaying like a faulty cassette player with no pause button as he rolled onto his back and let his eyes fall back open. There was no way he was going to get any sleep on this flight.

He instead took to an ever-living comfort of his, reading, in the hope that his inner monologue would drown out the guttural sobs ringing through his ears from the grieving mother when the team had uncovered her child’s body, buried underneath her own house.

He pushed himself to sit upright, his legs stretched out in front of him to the point where his feet were hanging freely, and he rifled through the go-bag left tucked under the sofa beneath him for his hand-bound anthology of his favourite poets, a book you’d gifted him for his birthday a few months prior. A book he’d read a dozen times since then.

His fingers traced over the familiar cover. He could almost feel the indentations of the embossing on the hardcover, a tactile memory that was as comforting as the words within. The pages were already dog-eared from countless readings, corners turned down to mark passages that had resonated with him, pen marks and streaks of neon yellow over phrases that had touched his soul in ways that only the poetic articulation of human emotion could.

It had become more than just a collection of poems to him; it was a sanctuary, a haven he could escape to when the horrors of his job became too much. He cherished each line, each word, each letter, as they provided a counterpoint to the harsh realities he faced daily. Except, this time it didn’t seem to work.

His mind was still overrun with images of the recent case, each line of verse morphing into a haunting reminder of the child’s life cut short. The words that usually brought him solace now echoed with a sorrowful undertone, amplifying his guilt and making his insomnia all the more pronounced.

The jet’s engines hummed steadily in the background, a usual comforting sound, now merely adding to the cacophony of his thoughts. His eyes, red-rimmed and weary, scanned over the pages, but the words blurred, morphing into a tale of despair that was not originally intended by the poets.

He tried to divert his mind, to block out the pictures of the crime scene, the teary eyes of the distraught mother, the lifeless body of the child, but it was all in vain. Their faces, their voices, their cries, they clung to him, refusing to let go.

His fingers tightened around the book, knuckles whitening with the strain. He could almost hear the deafening silence that followed after they’d found the body, the grim realisation that they were too late, that a life was lost before they could even try to save it.

Spencer felt a lump rise in his throat, the weight of the guilt and sorrow threatening to suffocate him. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the emotions that threatened to break him. He was a profiler, a genius, he was supposed to save lives, not let them slip through his fingers.

He closed the book, the once soothing words now a stark reminder of his failure. He leaned back against the plush leather of the seat, his legs stretched out in front of him, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The soft hum of the jet's engines was the only sound that filled the silence, a silence that was deafening in its own right.

Sleep was a distant dream, an elusive solace that he knew wouldn’t come. The guilt, the sorrow, the failure, they were his companions for the night, refusing to leave.

“Spencer…”

Your voice cut through the chaos ravaging his mind, and he flickered his eyes to his left, where you were comfortably curled up under a fleece blanket, head nestled in the small gap between the padded chair you were sat on and the jet’s wall, eyes resting closed.

“Why are you moving around so much..?”

Your question was cut short by a yawn, voice laced with an obvious exhaustion. His restlessness must have woken you up.

"I can't sleep," he confessed, rubbing his temples. "The case... it's still playing in my mind." His voice was barely a whisper, the silence of the jet amplifying its weight.

Your eyes fluttered open at his confession, a mix of concern and understanding washing over your face. You knew how deeply these cases affected him, how they seemed to burrow into his mind, refusing to let go.

"Spencer," you murmured, your voice barely louder than his own. "You did everything you could. You always do."

He glanced at you, his weary eyes meeting your earnest ones, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t have the words to explain the turmoil churning inside him. “We didn’t- none of it mattered…”

You sighed, removing yourself from the comfortability of your previous position, letting yourself sit with your legs in front of you and your feet on the floor. “Spencer of course it mattered,”

Spencer pushed himself upright as you did, subconciously mirroring your actions as you wake further from your half-asleep daze.

“He still died-”

“He was dead before we even landed Spencer, there’s nothing you could’ve done to change that,”

You cut off the inevitable start of a ramble from Spencer, raising your voice a little to take over the conversation whilst still making sure not to wake your sleeping teammates scattered around the jet.

“I know… I’m sorry i’m just-”

Spencer sighs, dragging his hands over his face and through the unruly mess of his hair, flattened and tangled from his incessant restlessness. “I’m fine… Sorry for waking you,” He let himself fall backwards to lie down again, turning onto his right side so that his back was facing you, as if not being able to see you would put an end to the conversation.

You didn’t say anything else, and Spencer resigned himself to listening to the mind-numbing drone of the jet’s engine as he heard you shift around, presumably getting back into a comfortable position to fall asleep again.

Except you weren’t quite done with him yet, and your weight on the edge of the sofa shifted his position as you sat down, your hand ghosting over his shoulder, not quite sure if you should actually touch him or not.

You knew Spencer had an aversion to physical touch, he always had, as long as you’d known him anyway. He’d rattled on about the number of bacterial colonies on human skin and how their transference could lead to illnesses you wouldn’t even try to name, swerving handshakes for awkward waves and keeping a pocket-sized bottle of hand sanitiser on his person at all times. He’d insist on keeping his distance, even from the people he was closest to, claiming that ‘you never knew what illnesses someone could be carrying’.

But you also knew that he needed comforting, and that words seemingly weren’t enough.

You gently placed your hand on Spencer's shoulder, your fingers just barely grazing over the sleeve of his shirt, offering a silent comfort that words couldn't provide. He tensed for a moment, his body still on high alert from the intensity of the never-ending rampage of his thoughts, but then slowly relaxed into your touch. The weight of his exhaustion seemingly lifting off his shoulders as he allowed himself to lean into your presence.

The soft warmth of your touch seeped into his skin, soothing the deep-rooted ache within him. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes, conveying a depth of understanding and empathy that words could never fully capture. In that moment, you became his anchor, providing a much-needed respite in the midst of his turmoil.

As Spencer leaned into your touch, his eyes closed, shutting out the harsh realities that had plagued his mind. He found solace in the simplicity of your presence, the tangible reminder that he wasn't alone in his pain. The weight of the guilt and sorrow that had threatened to suffocate him slowly began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of comfort and support.

You sat there in silence, your hand still resting gently on his shoulder, offering a steady presence that allowed him to find a temporary refuge from his racing thoughts. You didn't need to offer empty reassurances or try to fix what couldn't be fixed. Instead, your mere presence and the touch of your hand conveyed a profound message: "I am here for you."

Time seemed to stand still as you sat there, connected by that simple touch. It was a fragile moment. Fragile, but powerful.

You slowly added a gentle pressure with your fingers, rubbing your thumb over the curve of his shoulder as his behaviour showed that the contact wasn’t crossing any boundaries, as Spencer felt the tension in his shoulders ease and his racing thoughts begin to quiet, a sense of calm washed over him.

The weight of the case and its tragic outcome still lingered heavily on Spencer's mind, but your presence provided a much-needed respite.

“I’m so tired…”

You slowly escalate your touch, running your hand slowly over his shoulder and up the side of his neck, careful to watch for any signs of discomfort from him.

“I know Spence…”

The soft nickname rolling off your tongue only fuelled to add an extra blanket of comfort over him in the moment, although joined by an uncertain ache that spread through his chest until it felt almost suffocating. Your touch comforted him more than he could ever thank you for, but it also upset him beyond belief.

Spencer couldn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes, nor could he stop the slight tremble of his shoulders as they threatened to spill down his cheeks, and the shaking of his breath only proved to expose him further as you slowed the gentle caresses of your fingers to a halt.

As you felt the weight of his emotions, you gently pulled him into a comforting embrace, allowing him to release the tears he had been holding back as he buried his face into your lap. You held him tightly, offering a safe space for him to let go of the pain and sorrow that had consumed him.

“I’m sorry-”

Spencer choked out an apology through his tears, as though his emotions were burdening you. His tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn't mind. You were just grateful that he felt comfortable enough to let his emotions out, to release the pent-up pain that had been haunting him.

“Don’t apologise Spencer, it’s alright…”

You whispered soft words of comfort and reassurance as your hand moved to slowly run through his hair, reminding Spencer that he was a brilliant and compassionate person who had done everything in his power to help. You reminded him that he couldn't shoulder the weight of the world's tragedies alone, that he needed to take care of himself too.

Slowly, Spencer's sobs subsided, replaced by deep breaths as he regained control of his emotions. He pulled away slightly, his eyes red and puffy, but there was a glimmer of gratitude in them.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with both exhaustion and appreciation. "I don't know what I would do without you."

You gently guide his head back down into your lap, allowing him to use your thighs as a makeshift pillow so he could finally get some rest from his own mind. “It’s alright Spencer, just relax for me alright?”

As Spencer finally succumbed to the exhaustion weighing him down, his breathing gradually slowed and his tense muscles relaxed. You continued to stroke his hair gently, your touch offering a sense of comfort and security that Spencer desperately needed.

The weight of the case and its devastating outcome had taken a toll on him, both physically and emotionally. He had carried the burden of the child's death on his shoulders, blaming himself for not being able to save a life that was already lost.

But in your embrace, he felt a glimmer of hope.

With each gentle stroke of your hand, Spencer felt a wave of warmth wash over him. It was as if your touch carried with it a healing energy, easing the pain and sorrow that had consumed him. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to fully surrender to the comfort and safety of your embrace.

In the silence of the jet, Spencer's exhaustion finally overcame him. His body relaxed completely, finding respite from the relentless strain it had endured as it fell into a peaceful slumber. You continued to hold him, providing a sense of security and warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time, and you slowly fell into your own exhaustion, your fingers slowing their movements through his hair to a halt as you drifted into your own state of sleep.