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thecruel · 1 year ago
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“D'Arcy's own approach to Rhaenyra is closely informed by their nonbinary identity. ‘The conversation that I had with [showrunners] Miguel [Sapochnik] and Ryan [Condal] really early on was about Rhaenyra's keen awareness of how patriarchy operates,’ they explain. ‘I thought I'd been cast, despite all of my’ – they smile warmly, gesturing towards themselves – ‘stuff, you know? But actually, I really do believe that the ‘stuff’ was also invited.’”
“‘Being visible as a nonbinary person is the only meaning I can see in having a public profile,’ D'Arcy declares. ‘My hope is that the more trans people and gender non-conforming people that are visible in this industry, the more hopeful young people in the community will feel about the opportunities available to them.’ Then, an invitation: ‘See you at Trans Pride?’”
Emma D'Arcy — photographed by Tim Walker for British Vogue, July 2023  
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stuffeddeer · 1 year ago
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It's late.
Dazai feels a little ashamed, if he were to be honest. How pathetic is it that he's unable to sleep unless in the arms of his coworker? A little pathetic. His eyebrows furrow as he begins to pick the lock to your apartment.
It's late. You're probably asleep.
He's jealous. Yeah; the clenching feeling in his chest is jealousy from your ability to sleep through the nights (a feeling of his that isn't shared towards his well-rested coworkers). You're asleep, and he should be. He will be.
The door clicks quietly, and Dazai doesn't react. How many times has he broken into your apartment? The question is left unanswered as he saunters into the place, making sure to close and lock it behind him.
You're asleep. It's late.
He makes a pit stop by your kitchen, staring blankly into your fridge like he'd do if he lived here. He counts the number of half finished water bottles littering the shelves, dispersed in between random ingredients you don't open and snacks that are dwindling in number.
If Dazai lived here, maybe he could make you dinner sometime. Gather the ingredients to fill your fridge, put a pan on the stove — however people cook, he can't remember. The fridge closes quietly; It's late. You're asleep.
With a final glance towards the sink, taking note of the dirty cutlery delicately balanced around the edges, he makes his way into the hall. Three steps and he'd be outside your door, your bedroom door, where you're asleep.
Dazai pushes away the same thought that keeps appearing in his mind. Of course you're asleep, it's late.
He turns away from your bedroom and finds himself standing in your living room. It's happily lived in - cushions that have lost their fluff, a blanket strewed across the couch haphazardly. His hand runs over it; always the same blanket. Dazai can imagine sitting under this blanket on the couch with you, the couch you two would share, watching some movie on your small tv just across the small room.
If he lived here, he'd make sure to tidy up the living room before you two went to bed. You kept a basket of blankets just next to the tv, and Dazai could easily drape the blanket back into it before following you off to bed. For now, he leaves it; There'd be no trace he was here come morning.
Once again, he finds himself mere steps away from your bedroom door. You live alone, for now, and yet keep the door closed every night. Is it habit? Are you worried some barbarian will break in just to watch you sleep? (Dazai isn't here to watch you, of course; He's here to sleep as well.) If that is what you're worried about, he could always spend the night with you, just to make sure you're safe. Well, spend the whole night with you, rather than breaking in late and sneaking out early.
Dazai turns into the bathroom.
You have the cutest rug next to your shower, one that always makes Dazai smile. A tough persona is applied at the agency, so only he is privy to your cute pink Sanrio bathmat. It's not what he would have expected for you, and that's what makes him smile. Your counter holds an electric toothbrush and has a lot of clutter Dazai wants to sort through. If he lived with you, he could place his toothbrush next to yours and keep your hair care stuff in the cabinet below. Maybe one day you'd let Dazai comb your hair, with a brush or just his fingers.
It's late. You're asleep. The same thought Dazai has been pushing down since he began the walk to your apartment fills his head once more. He's not delusional, no, but what if you weren't asleep? What if you were waiting up, just for him?
His hand touches the doorknob. It's late. You have no reason to think he's coming. The door opens slowly and quietly as he peers in.
You're asleep.
Dazai's chest constricts and he can't help the frown pulling at his lips. Of course you're asleep; He's stupid to get his hopes up. If you were awake anyway, you'd kick him out and probably call the cops. He is trespassing right now, at a time when you're most vulnerable.
Still, Dazai slips into your warm, cream-colored sheets, his hands clasped together under his cheek as he lies on his side. You're so calm, so serene under the dull light of a street lamp just outside the bedroom window. Hesitantly, Dazai's hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, the tips of his fingers experimentally tracing your skin.
His eyes flutter shut when you move closer. Were you used to his presence? Dazai likes to think you need him to sleep as much as he needs you. Sure, you could fall asleep without him curled up beside you, but maybe he was soothing nightmares. The thought made him frown. He shouldn't care, he shouldn't be here. His eyebrows furrowed like they had when he first broke in — this is weird. This is illegal, too.
A frustrated puff of air leaves his mouth, his eyes shutting more firmly. Tighter, tighter — why isn't he asleep yet?
He curls more into himself, feeling ashamed and embarrassed and anxious and annoyed and-
Your hand moves from your chest to his, softly resting over his heart. The small smile resides back on Dazai's face as he relaxes, slowly drifting to sleep in your bed.
Light filters in through your sheer curtains, the sun kissing your face as you quickly wake up. The blaring of your alarm was the first thing you'd noticed, rubbing your eyes with one hand as you turned to shut it off. Just a few moments of peace, and then you'd get up....
Those few moments didn't come to pass before you were hit with a boost of energy, sitting up in your empty bed. Of course your bed was empty, no need to emphasize it. You live alone, did you expect someone to be there when you woke up?
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beautifulmorningstar · 6 days ago
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celestial-toys · 11 days ago
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That I Would Be Good [4/5]
Swan Upon Leda
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Moon’s fingertips tap rhythmically along the edge of the counter, and he seems to be debating something. He finally speaks again after a pregnant pause. “…You’re like a God to him. Do you know that?”
His words cut through the fog in your mind. “I am?”
He nods solemnly. “You are. Not—Not in the sense that he wants to worship you… or at least, not as much as he wants to protect you. But there’s an undeniable, ineffable devotion there.”
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In This Chapter
Breaking points are reached, confrontations are had, and secrets are spilled.
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Pairing: Sun x Moon x Reader
Word Count: 5,781
Contains: [AU - Real World | Sentient AI/Automatons | Personality Swap] [invasion of privacy] [more of Sun’s signature Overbearing Behavior™️] [crying] [substance abuse (not specified beyond ‘sedatives’)] [arguments] [shouting] [brief physical altercation] [religious discussion/metaphor(?)] [implication of past sexual assault (not committed by Sun or Moon, to be perfectly clear)]
A/Ns: This is a songfic. Lyrics and title are from ‘That I Would Be Good’ by Alanis Morissette. Also, the title of this chapter, along with additional lyrics featured within it, are from the song 'Swan Upon Leda' by Hozier. Please refer to the notes on the Ao3 version of this chapter for my commentary on the song, and it's unfortunate renewed relevancy post-US election.
This fic is part of my AU “[Not] Made by Design”, the full series can be found here.
Links to other parts of this fic:[Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3] [Ch.4 (you are here)]
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That I would be grand if I was not all-knowing.
Curled up in bed one evening, you huff in frustration at the puzzle on your phone. The sound catches Sun’s attention, raising his head from the pillow beneath him. Shifting from his usual fit-for-a-coffin position beside you, he cranes his neck to look over your shoulder.
“Expose. Pate. Resume. Rose.”
You frown. “Really?”
“Try it and see for yourself.”
You tap the four assorted words he called out and sure enough, they collect themselves in a purple bracket on the screen. You read the category title aloud. “Words pronounced differently with accent marks. …Oh. Huh. Guess you’re right.”
His voice is neutral, very matter-of-fact as he pulls his head back, neck folding and collapsing to allow him to rest on the pillow once again. “Of course I am.”
You roll your eyes, sarcasm seeping into your flat tone. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the help.”
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Settled down for a lazy Sunday morning gaming session, you mutter aloud as your character runs across the island. “Okay, I’ve got… 300k on me. Daisy’s sellin’ ‘em for… oh, I checked earlier, what was it… uh—109 this week.”
Moon’s voice rumbles out from behind you and you feel the vibration between your shoulder blades as you rest against his chest. “Sheesh…”
You voice your agreement as you roam in search of the young turnip-laden boar. “Yeah, I know.”
You try to do the math in your head. “So… that should mean I can afford—”
Moon cheerfully provides you with your answer almost instantly. “2,752! Or—well—2,750 is as close as you can get without going over since she sells them in bundles of ten.”
You try to keep the frustration out of your voice when you thank him for the help.
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Your hand freezes over the bowl, a scoop of flour held in midair as you lean back to stare at the recipe below. 
“What.” Deadpan as usual, Sun questions you from his seat at the table. He’d apparently joined Zero in deciding that watching you bake was the most entertaining way they could spend the afternoon.
“It was… ugh, I need ‘two cups’. But I‘m weighing this out, so I'm trying to remember what that was in grams.”
Once again robbing you of the opportunity to think, he’s quick to feed you the information. “Two cups of flour equals 250 grams.”
You sigh. “…Thanks.”
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Curled on the couch between the two of them, you listen as they test their trivia knowledge against one another, having fallen into a contest thanks to the episode of Jeopardy currently playing on the TV. You’ve long since given up on trying to beat either of them to any answer, and are currently trying to fight back the rising, nagging voice in your head that keeps calling you stupid.
After Moon effortlessly answers a clue so obscure that you’d have had no hope in hell of getting it, you wiggle out from between them with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. Quickly excusing yourself, you make for the bathroom.
“You good?” You ignore the concerned question that Sun calls after you, focused solely on being alone and calming down before you make a scene in front of them. You’ve just gotta… breathe. See things rationally again.
You just need a minute.
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After more time than you’re aware of passes, spent with your head in your hands as you sit on the edge of the bathtub willing yourself not to cry, a soft knock startles you.
“Are you alright in there, star? It’s… been twenty minutes and, uh…” He laughs, but it’s a sad sound. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold Sun back.”
You hurry to your feet, placating them with “Just a second!” as you check your reflection to make sure you don’t have pressure marks on your cheeks from how long you sat there like that. When you pull the door open, you try to play it casual in spite of the fact that you feel no better than before. Unsurprisingly, you immediately come face-to-chest with a very imposing and very quiet yellow automaton.
You glance between his blank gaze and Moon, wringing his hands some feet off to the side behind his bolder counterpart.
“…Hi?”
“What were you doing in there.”
“Using the… bathroom…?”
He’s obviously unsatisfied with your answer but he doesn’t stop you when you slip past him through the doorway. He surveys the empty bathroom for a long moment before following as you make your way back to the couch.
“Goodness, didn’t mean to turn my bathroom trip into a full-family event.” You remark as you pass by Moon and Zero, both of them turning to follow you as well. You settle back down in the middle of the couch, Moon taking his place beside you. Zero paces around her bed, too bothered by the tense energy that’s now filled the room to allow herself to relax.
Sun stands in the middle of the room, rays clicking back and forth rigidly. “I am… concerned about you again.”
You sigh, quietly grateful that someone finally broke the awkward silence. “There’s no need to be, Sun.”
“I thought… you wanted me to tell you when I am concerned.”
“I—I do, but… I mean…”
You search for something to throw him off his line of questioning and flop your head back into the plush couch cushion. “Christ, Sun, can’t I even take a shit in peace without an interrogation afterwards?”
His arms cross over his chest. “I never heard the sound of the toilet flushing.”
You internally curse his observation skills as he closes the distance between himself and your seat on the couch. Crouching down in front of you, you begin to feel backed into a corner. “Now, unless you’ve taken up some new, gross attempt at reducing your water-waste, I’d like you to answer me again and be honest about it this time.”
You stare into his blank, false eyes for an uncomfortable length of time as an array of thoughts and feelings wash over you. You consider fabricating another lie. You consider telling some sort of half-truth just to get him off your back. But the longer you stay locked in an unwinnable staring contest with him, the closer you get to throwing caution aside and hitting him with the full truth.
And so you do.
“You make me feel stupid, okay?! And it pisses me off, so I tried to excuse myself to go calm down in the bathroom, but I can’t even get a break in there anymore, so now here we are!”
His expression flickers to one of confusion. “I make you feel what?”
“Stupid! Both of you!”
His monitor rotates to face Moon for a silent moment of shared bewilderment, and then Moon turns to face you. “Could you… elaborate a little more on that? When—How do we make you feel that way?”
You tilt your head over to face him, crossing your arms over yourself in an attempt to quell the vulnerability. “It’s… it’s not even your fault.” You wince at the way your voice cracks and tense up as your vision gets blurry, refusing to cry over something so trivial. “It’s just… I’m… struggling to come to terms with the massive gap between us.”
Sun’s harsh tone doesn’t help. “What gap?”
You blink hard, ignoring the tears that escape. “Intelligence! Memory! Information processing speed! You name it- you two are far better at it than I could ever be!”
Moon reaches out, laying a firm hand on Sun’s knee. What he silently conveys to him is anyone’s guess, but it’s enough to have Sun rock back on his heels, arms retracting and elbows propping him up against the coffee table behind him. The forced look of casualty doesn’t suit him, nor does it negate his overbearing demeanor, but you’re appreciative of the extra space nonetheless.
“Has this… been bothering you for a long time?” Moon’s question is gentle, and on quite the right track.
“Not… since the beginning, if that’s what you’re asking. I knew—objectively—that you both would be superior to me in that regard. It just…”
“Hits different when you live with it twenty-four-seven?
You glance up at Sun. “I mean… kinda? I don’t know. It’s… it’s the little things that have been getting to me. When you—when you solve a puzzle that I’m working on without a moment’s hesitation. When you don’t even give me the time to do math in my head. When you offer up answers before I can even hope to recall them. It just makes me feel so… slow.”
The room is quiet for a moment while they consider your words. Surprisingly, Sun is the one to break through it with an insightful question more befitting of Moon. “Is it that we know the answers, or is it that we give them to you.”
Your tense expression softens as you view your frustration from another angle. Looking back on all the little moments that bothered you, you find that the common thread running through all of them is that they beat you to the punch. “You may… have a point.”
Sun does his best to not look smug, but his best isn’t very good.
“I guess… it wasn’t really that you had the answers that bothered me. It was hardly even the envy that you found them faster, it’s really just—the frustration that I feel when you spoon-feed them to me. It’s making me feel like I never even have the opportunity to use my brain anymore!” You laugh a bit with the exclamation.
Moon nods in understanding beside you. “If I try… placing myself in your shoes, I think I can see how that would get upsetting rather quickly.”
As the tension in the room begins to dissipate, Zero ceases her endless cycle of pacing and sitting, circling her bed a few times before curling up in the middle.
Your attention falls back on Sun as he speaks. “I suppose I should… apologize, then. For… making assumptions. About what you were doing in the bathroom.”
As much as it audibly pains him to admit to having jumped the gun, you appreciate the apology. Still, you know his concern wasn’t unfounded. “I know I've given you both plenty of reasons to worry over what I may be doing in there. It’s… it’s alright, Sunny. I accept the apology.”
Moon picks up from there. “We’re both sorry about our… inconsiderate habit when it comes to helping you out. And—it really does come from a desire to help! But, still. We weren’t aware that it bothered you.”
You reach out to pat him on the knee. “Thank you. Just—can we all agree to give me and my feeble little human brain some time to process things?” You smile. “It feels good when I figure things out on my own. And I’ll… make it known when I would like some help.”
They both nod, and Sun’s voice is surprisingly soft, dare you say gentle when he speaks. “Yeah… yeah. I think we can do that.”
That I would be loved even when I numb myself.
Shaking two pills out of a small bottle, you cringe at the noise and hope that neither of your attentive partners are within earshot. Faltering, you stare at the medication in your hand, trembling slightly from the stress of the day. “…Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, quickly coaxing a third pill out onto your waiting palm before tossing them in your mouth.
Capping the bottle and returning it to its place behind the mirror-door of the medicine cabinet, you breathe a shaky sigh of relief. Grabbing your water bottle sitting on the bathroom counter, you knock back a few swigs, quickly downing the evidence of your… bad habit.
Or so you believed.
Turning to leave, your stomach drops at the sight of the door, cracked open just slightly. There’s no mistaking the void of a certain someone’s blacked-out screen pressed against the other side.
Goddamnit.
The door swings inward, slowly revealing the rest of the overbearing automaton leaning against the outer doorframe.
Unsure how much he saw but willing to bet that it was too much, you aren’t sure how to address him. “Sun! I thought you were doing laundry. Do you… want the bathroom towels, or…?”
His tone carries a serious, contemplative weight, and he doesn’t bother to manifest an expression beyond two solid red eyes. “I was. And I did. But now I am far more curious as to what exactly you were doing in here just now.”
You try to play him off, laughing. “Sunny, we really need to have a talk about this tendency of yours to spy on me in the bathroom.”
He welcomes himself into the room and your personal space, and you back up a step as he reaches out to reopen the small cabinet above the sink. He reaches in, pulling out the very bottle you’d just held, turning it over beneath a critical gaze. “This was not prescribed to you.”
You rack your brain for excuses and answers to the questions you know are coming. “Y-yeah, it’s just over-the-counter stuff. Nothing serious! I don’t see what you’re so worried about.”
“You are not experiencing a single one of these symptoms. Why are you taking it?” He places a fingertip beneath the dosage instructions. “And why are you taking more than the recommended amount?”
You can’t help but get defensive. “You—you don’t know every single thing I feel every second of every day, Sun. Who are you to tell me that I have no reason to take that?”
His monitor slowly angles away from the bottle in his hand and up toward you. He stares you down for an uncomfortable number of seconds. “…You really have no clue how long I’ve been watching you, do you?”
With nothing more than a few cryptic words, an old fear blooms within you once again. “What are you getting at, Sun? Out with it.”
He huffs, and you hear the quiet hum of his cooling system kick up. “I am aware of your history with this medication. Do you know how many nights I watched you down these things just to knock yourself out long enough to get a few hours of sleep? Only then to stumble right back into the lab with a hot mug of heavily caffeinated coffee to keep on working?”
Your disbelief pulls a stupid question from you. “Back in the facility?”
He scoffs. “Where else? You aren’t the only one that remembers those long nights, you know? That place was loaded with security feeds, and there just so happened to be one in that beloved employee lounge of yours. You have no idea—the number of hours of restless sleep I watched you steal, the number of double-shot coffee pods and energy drinks I watched you burn through, the...”
His red eyes flicker out, leaving you with nothing to see but your own reflection in his dark screen. “…The number of times I watched you sit alone in a room with our lifeless bodies and cry.”
Your breath comes shallow, and if you weren’t so caught up in the moment, you’d laugh at how he’s found another way to make you feel exposed. “You weren’t even fully functioning back then, Sun. You both were still in training! Your AI’s every action was logged—I—I would’ve known. So how in the goddamn hell were you ‘watching’ me?” You know that what he says he saw really happened, but you’re not about to buckle without evidence.
His voice comes out cold. “Those ‘inconsistencies’ in my action log weren’t the mystery to me that they were to you.”
The defensive tension in you morphs into disbelief as an old suspicion of yours is unearthed. “Are you trying to tell me that you managed to watch me through the goddamn security cams for who knows how long—and managed to cover your tracks so well that I wouldn’t find the evidence? Are you really trying to get me to believe that?!”
His voice remains level in spite of your inciting words, but it gains a sharp and serious edge. “I suppose I just never had the heart to break it to you, but sunshine, I regret to inform you that you lost control of me long before you thought you did.”
Enraged, you step towards him, jamming an accusatory finger into the unyielding metal of his chest and channeling the pain that results into your rising voice. “You! You lying, conniving, control-freak! I fucking knew it! You were altering your own activity log and making me take the fall for it! Do you realize how hard I beat myself up for the shit I didn’t understand?”
You force your words through your tightening throat, refusing to let these old wounds bring you to tears again. “I bet you were just laughing it up, weren’t you? Knowing I would never even suspect you at the time, because you were still playing the ‘innocent, lovable’ character I wanted you to be. I know you just ate that shit up—watching me flounder in front of my colleagues when I couldn’t explain what ‘I’d’ done wrong.” Uncharacteristic aggression comes over you and your hand balls into a fist before slamming hard into his chest with your final words.
He doesn’t so much as flinch, and his lack of reciprocity only riles you up further. “Oh, no-no. You don’t get to give me the silent treatment right now!” Beside yourself in a storm of pent up emotion, you reach up to take him by the shoulder and repeatedly slam a fist against his rigid, unfeeling core. “WAKE—THE—FUCK—UP! I DON’T CARE IF YOU HATE ME—YOU OWE ME A RESPONSE.”
Contrary to his cooling system running audibly in high-gear, his demeanor is cold and collected. Placing the bottle of pills down on the counter, he sighs. You flinch when his hands rise and he ignores it, taking each of your arms by the wrist and gently, firmly returning them to your sides. His voice is low, speaking to you as he does so. “You’re a designer, sunshine. Not a programmer. You’ve been out of your depth with us since day one.”
You huff in defiance, crossing your arms over your chest. Having rid himself of your petty display of frustration, he props a hip against the counter and retrieves the bottle from where he’d placed it. Looking miniature in his grasp, he rolls it between his thumb and forefinger as he continues. “Contrary to what you think of me, I don’t particularly enjoy subverting your authority.” He hesitates, and his voice takes on a brief hint of humor. “Well—most of the time.”
Your eyes roll as you release an impatient sigh. His tone falls flat again, reaching the end of his point. “Even back then, I knew my actions could and would have consequences—on me, and you, and even Moon if things went poorly enough. And believe it or not, I did try to keep them to a minimum. I’ve only ever done what I deem necessary to accomplish my principal goal.”
You take a step back, growing uncomfortable with the proximity you created in your fit of rage. “Well, excuse me for assuming anything about what really goes on in your head. Might I ask then, what goal could possibly necessitate such behavior?”
His idle motion stills, slowly closing his hand around the bottle until it disappears in his grasp. “You should know the answer to that, though. You’re the one who instilled it in me, after all. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the first law of robotics.”
A tense silence suffocates the room, and neither of you do so much as move an inch until Moon’s voice crashes in from the doorway. “What the hell are you two doing in here?” Uncharacteristically aggressive in his questioning, you know he’s had just as rough of a time visiting the facility today as you did.
You beat Sun to the punch, some small part of you clinging to the hope that you can divert the topic away from your… habit. “This bastard’s been spying on me since before the beginning!”
Moon’s voice fills with exasperation. “What?”
Sun cuts in, pushing his own agenda before you can elaborate. “This reckless idiot’s been abusing sedatives again!”
Your voice raises over him. “They’re hardly even—!”
His monitor whips around to stare you down so fast it jumpscares you into silence.
Moon makes his way into the room, and you try not to recall the last time the three of you had an impromptu intervention in this same place. His gaze flicks to Sun with a critical tone. “I take it Sun finally told you about his… observations.” He reaches out and works the bottle out of Sun’s tense grip, looking it over with a frown.
A sense of betrayal weighs your voice down. “Are there any other secrets of his that you’re privy to and keeping from me?”
You don’t expect an answer, at least not one you can believe, but he offers it anyway. “…That depends on how you define a secret, I suppose.”
You heave a sigh but there’s little relief in it, more exhaustion than anything. Moon questions you softly. “Have you been taking these often again?”
“Ha. Hardly. I can scarcely get away with anything with this one’s prying eyes in every square inch of my privacy.” You stare daggers into the void of Sun’s screen.
His voice is louder than you expect when he suddenly responds, and you’re shocked at how full of emotion it is. All of his cold, unfeeling mechanical indifference replaced with something far more… sincere. Painfully so.
“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t fucking care. about. you. Do you think I sat around watching any of your colleagues mill about the place? Do you think I gave a damn if any of them ran themselves into the ground? As if they ever even would. You’re the only one insane enough, stubborn enough, lonely enough to care about some heap of dysfunctional, lifeless material laying on an operating table. You’re the only one. Of course I watched you. What. else. could. I. do.”
His rays shutter and spin rapidly, hands balling the loose fabric of his pants into fists at his side. He leans closer to you as he spits his final words.
“So excuse the fuck out of me for giving a damn about the only person who ever gave one about me.”
With that, he turns on his heel, pushing past Moon and quickly storming out of sight.
The weight of his words join with the exhaustion from today’s stress, dragging you down. With the added effect of the medication beginning to kick in on an empty stomach, it all has you lowering your shaky body to rest—dignified as it is—atop the closed toilet lid. You watch Moon as he quietly returns the bottle to its place in the cabinet in what you assume is some attempt to repair trust between you. “I… appreciate the gesture, but I don’t really care what you do with it. I know Sun’s just gonna slip back in here once we’re gone and pocket it to keep it from me.”
His vents release a soft burst of air and he closes the cabinet, turning to sit on the edge of the counter. Monitor dropped low and staring at the floor, it seems you aren’t the only one feeling beaten down. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, collecting your scattered thoughts.
“You know, it’s hard to blame you for taking those after everything and everyone you had to deal with today. I mean—even I was ready to send myself straight into a shutdown after answering all those questions.” A small, sad laugh escapes him. “Living with you kind of allowed me to forget that not everyone sees us the way you do.”
You tilt your head to look up at him. “What, like the people that you are?”
His monitor angles to focus you in his camera’s line of sight. “…Yeah. Exactly.”
He raises a pointed finger. “But—still—you know I also can’t approve of you self-medicating. It’s a slippery, dangerous slope. That’s why Sun gets all… like that. Not—not that his way of doing things is appropriate, though. I believe I worry about you just as much, but I at least try to channel it into more acceptable methods.”
His hand drops back down to the counter, enervation palpable, and you wonder how anyone could observe either of your boys and question their sentience for even a moment.
“He wasn’t lying though. I hope you know that. When he said that he cares about you.”
You prop an elbow on the counter beside you, resting your temple against your palm. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard him say it outright. Like—I’ve heard you say it on his behalf, and I’ve seen him nod along in agreement. I can even sense it in at least some of his actions, but… it’s different actually hearing it from him.”
Moon’s fingertips tap rhythmically along the edge of the counter, and he seems to be debating something. He finally speaks again after a pregnant pause. “…You’re like a God to him. Do you know that?”
His words cut through the fog in your mind. “I am?”
He nods solemnly. “You are. Not—Not in the sense that he wants to worship you… or at least, not as much as he wants to protect you. But there’s an undeniable, ineffable devotion there.”
You scoff. “You won’t find many people that would put their faith in a God that they know can’t even protect them. A God weaker than them. Inferior to them.”
Moon shakes his head. “Starlight, I don’t think you realize all the ways in which you have protected him. Protected us. Protection doesn’t always come in the form of a physical battle of strength. …Especially not when it comes to protecting someone whose entire life can be snuffed out of existence with the click of a button, or the flick of a switch.”
You twist around on the toilet lid, turning to face the counter where Moon’s sat. You rest your arms out on it, fingers drumming along in tandem with Moon’s rhythm. “How much of that is you projecting, and how much of it is actually his feelings on the matter?”
He laughs again, a soft, quiet sound this time. “Not as much of it as you may think! I… hmm. I guess if one were to call him religious, one would call me an atheist.”
Your brows raise. “Oh? Do you…” The implications cause dismay to swirl in your stomach. “…Is that your way of saying that you don’t believe in me?”
His monitor twists on its axis and tilts down toward you, eyes wide and round. “No! No—heavens, no that’s not what I meant by that!”
You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into the kind of muffled, shared nonsensical laughter that one only tends to experience during those late night chats with a friend, fueled by over-tiredness and the joy of being in good company. A… mutual, unspoken understanding of sorts.
As the laughter dies down, you reassure him. “No—like—I get it, I do. I honestly wouldn’t blame you at all if you didn’t believe in me. Certainly at least not in the sense of comparing me to a God.”
He collects himself and clarifies. “I… I do believe in you though. In you. The very real, messy, soft and squishy, vulnerable flesh-and-bone human being that you are. I believe in your heart and soul, the power that resides in your free will, and I believe in your capabilities and intelligence far more than you may think I do. Sun and I both put faith into all of that and more. I can even understand why he’d see you as a God, but… it’s… different with him.”
You can’t help but lightheartedly interject. “Goodness, what isn’t…”
Moon smiles. “Sun was the first. I was never far behind, of course, but you couldn’t do everything in tandem. He was the first to be trained, the first to be implanted, the first to troubleshoot with, and, well... Do you know the sentiment that parents make most of their mistakes on the first child, so by the time the second comes along, they’re… uhm, they ‘turn out better’? For lack of a kinder way to put it.”
You drop your head down and pull your hands in, using them as a cushion lest you knock your forehead into the counter. “Oh, now you’re gonna tell me that he sees me as his mother or something, aren’t you…”
You groaned the words out playfully, but Moon takes them unexpectedly seriously. “Honestly? …Something in between the two, if I had to guess.”
You let the weight of his words sink into you as he continues.
“I… can’t claim to be an expert on what goes on in that head of his. But I can get closer than anyone else can. He… doesn’t like letting people in, as you are well aware, but occasionally he’ll confide in me. He’s got a lot of walls up. Both metaphorically and literally. It’s difficult to wade through that chaotic maze he calls a headspace.”
His fingers gradually slow their drumming to a halt.
“Do… you remember… the first time we engaged the Eclipse Protocol?”
Your stomach tightens.
“I’d rather not.”
“I- I know. I’m sorry. I just… that night. When he and I were still linked, and he…” He shakes his head. “Oh, who am I kidding, when we were watching over you like a couple of hawks…”
“While I slept?”
“Yes. To keep you safe. … There’s… a lot about that evening that I can’t forget, but one particular thing struck me. Well, honestly it annoyed me at the time because it was bleeding into my headspace and overriding my ability to focus, but… it stands out to me as something profound when I recall it.”
He pauses, freezing for a moment before pulling a bent leg up onto the counter and turning to face you.
“Maybe I shouldn’t share this. Maybe he’ll get mad at me when I tell him that I did. But I feel like after the things he’s kept from you, well intentioned as he may be… it’s fair enough to share this with you.”
You rest your chin on your folded hands, eyes glued to him.
“There was this… singular line of text that just kept repeating, over and over in his mind that night. It… to level with you—it started to freak me out a bit.”
You question him, soft and quiet.
“What was it?”
“Five words.”
His facial features fade out, and a repeating line of text on his otherwise dark screen replaces it.
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The sight knocks the wind out of you, and you can do nothing but nod as your mind starts spinning.
The text fades, and the familiar sight of Moon’s default smile and crescent eyes replaces it for a second, his expression then quickly morphing into something more appropriate for the moment.
“I’m still not sure what it meant. A general search for those words in that order results in too many options for me to narrow it down. The sentence sticks with me, though. I guess… that’s where my theories of how he perceives you took root. … There’s more examples, far more explicit things he’s said, but I… feel like I’ve shared enough already. Any elaboration should be his to do, if he ever wishes to.”
You nod, raising up in your seat and finding your words.
Moon—unlike Sun—never was the type to comb through your personal files, private playlists included. So it doesn’t surprise you that he didn’t spot the connection.
“Well. You’ve… certainly given me a lot to think about.”
His tone grows concerned. “I—I really didn’t mean to upset you more! I hope I haven’t…”
You reach out, placing a hand reassuringly over his. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m actually very grateful that you shared this with me. I… know you’ve got to be tired of serving as this intermediary between Sun and I… and I hope one day you won’t have to.”
He gives you his signature smile, and somehow makes it feel genuine. “I really don’t mind, dear.”
You eye him with concern. “Mhm… and one day I’m gonna get inside that head of yours and figure out why that is.”
His tone turns playful. “Goodness me! Can’t a little selfless couples counseling go un-psychoanalyzed?”
You smile. “Not in this house, nope.”
The medication's effects have long since started taking hold, and you rub at your tired eyes as your waning focus trains back on the day’s events.
“Moon?”
“Yes, dear.”
“We’ve got a bigger problem.”
You punctuate your sentence with a yawn, and he rises from his seat on the counter, coming to crouch in front of you.
“The problem being how sleepy you’re getting?”
You pout. “No…”
His warm smile doesn’t waver as he whispers a question. “Would you like me to carry you to bed?”
You falter. “W-well… yeah, I… I would like that, actually… but that’s not our problem!”
You raise your arms to wrap around his neck as he leans into you, effortlessly lifting you off of your ‘throne’ and encouraging you to hook your legs around his waist. Once he’s got you securely in his hold, he leans back to catch your gaze.
“What is our problem then?”
You whisper, mindful of Sun’s penchant for eavesdropping.
“How are we gonna get him to come to the headquarters with us next week?”
------- ------- -------
Not much later that night, you laid in bed clinging to Moon, quickly drifting off under his reassuring watch.
It didn’t surprise you in the least when Sun remained in his own room that night. The room was conveniently located just opposite the wall that your bed sat against, making it the perfect place for him to hide when he craved being near you but felt it kinder to you to keep himself away.
As sleep welcomed you, your ears picked up on a muffled, familiar tune coming from the other side of the wall.
You still aren’t sure if you dreamed it or not.
“The gateway to the world, was still outside the reach of him. Would never belong to angels, had never belonged to men.”
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A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. I’ll be back in a few days with the final chapter! You can also find my notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. Links to the playlist and moodboard for [N]MbD can be found on this blog’s pinned post, as well as in the series notes on Ao3. Image Sources: x - x - x
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blacknidstang · 1 year ago
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No fandom has ever given me an evergrowing reading list and new poems to discover the way wincest fandom did. Like legit these insane web weaving and edits people make, pheww. I think personally this hasn't been as prevalent in other spaces I've been?? I think this is also why wincest on tumblr is so amazing while i preferred twitter for other series. Like web weaving is so unique to tumblr and wincesters thrive here more and more every day. God bless you all.
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gingermintpepper · 6 months ago
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Mother Love - Demeter and Persephone in poetry
Alright, so, let's finally talk about Mother Love.
I've spent the past couple of weeks compiling most of the poems from my physical copy of Mother Love into a publicly accessible google doc because there is a quite frankly embarrassing lack of archiving of this particular anthology of Dove's work and I am genuinely and greatly saddened that it is not a work more commonly brought up when discussing Demeter/Hades/Persephone retellings and reinterpretations for modern audiences.
In order to speak about what Mother Love is, I first need to address what it is not. It's not a coming of age story which portrays Persephone as a caged bird under a too-smothering Demeter. It's not a love story where Hades is some valiant hero who rescues an innocent maiden and through his love empowers her to be her truest self. It does not demonise Demeter, who has forever lost her daughter, it does not demonise Hades, who took that daughter away.
Instead, Mother Love is, perhaps, the truest interpretation of the themes of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter that I've seen, down to the structure of the anthology mimicking the hymn's narrative structure. It is the story of a mother who loses her daughter, of the grief that ensues as she worries for her, of her being pitied and given empty words instead of help finding her, of her trying to soothe herself by filling the void with new children that are not her own. It is the story of a daughter who loses her way, who went seeking flowers and was unwittingly caught in the machinations of those in higher positions of power than her, of the kingdom she is promised and refuses, of the changes she goes through in this new, strange world without her consent and how those changes will define her the rest of her life. It is the story of a lonely king overrun with ennui who wants companionship but never asks, of he who tries in vain to tempt with wealth and land and must ultimately yield to the love of a mother. Not even the lord of the dread Underworld can escape that all-consuming mother's love and this was a theme found all over greek mythology and their literature, and it is also the theme that has been unfortunately and miserably lost as we've told and retold the tale of Hades and Persephone time and time again.
Please, please read this work, and if you enjoy it, do consider picking up an actual copy of the anthology. There is so much to be gained from speaking of the Demeter/Hades/Persephone myth as one of nuance and devoid of the unnecessary moralisations and accusations that we habitually foist onto cultural figures and heroes in an attempt to validate our opinions and interpretations to our peers. In my compilation, I did leave out three poems: Breakfast of Champions, Blue Days, Nature's Itinerary, mainly because I did not think they were relevant -- but I'm always open to requests for those poems to be added to the doc if anybody gets curious. Below I've also attached a few of my favourite short poems from this anthology so people can get an idea for the content that is included in the doc.
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@gotstabbedbyapen who requested a way to read these poems but could not find them, I sincerely hope you enjoy them <3
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stardestroyer81 · 2 years ago
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Pizza Tower has single-handedly made rats one of my all-time favorite animals and I am hereby coronating myself as the number one Bad Rat fan.
The 𝓡𝓪𝓽 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓮𝓷, if you will.
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gxlden-angels · 1 year ago
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I know we all hate bitch ass Calvin and his pre-determination, but I just learned the term Arminian and think we should show homeboys Jacobus Arminius and John Wesley some hate too <3
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okami-zero · 1 year ago
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Okay, listen, I need you to drop whatever you are doing right now (unless it involves something unstable, explosive or otherwise dangerous to do so) and check out this fic!
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If ever asked what got me into FFXIV, there are several fics/writers I will happily name and boost. This is one of those, from the wonderful @traveleorzea​.
Seriously, this is an absolutely wonderful fic, with amazing introspection on a few well-known NPCs (and some stellar OCs) and just... wow. This was an amazing rollercoaster and while it is long (80 chapters, babyyy!) that is not a detriment, but a feature (and Halone’s tits, the “Slow Burn” tag is not kidding, but the payoff....wooo!) But yes, go! Read! Win! xD
On a light tangent, as I said this is one of several fics that got me to actually play FFXIV, and I would like to thank every single one of those writers who got me sucked in with your amazing writing and OCs, and for the amazing writers and fellow WoL-gushers that I have found since. You all inspire me and sometimes rattle the stuff in my head loose so I can catch it on a page to share.
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sophieswundergarten · 2 years ago
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YOUR REYNIE GOING COMATOSE FIC? just letting you jnow i would die for you i LOVE it i LOVE reynie i LOVE the way you write im just NSNDBDVDGDJSGSHAHSV
Thank you??? You guys are so nice oh my word. I was super nervous about trying something new, let alone posting it where people could see, but y'all have been really kind :)
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junnieverse · 1 year ago
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Me also swinging my feet everytime I see a notification from someone and it says 'mutuals' next to the user <33
do y'all also have mutuals whom you’re actually a fan of? like everytime u see them on your dash u just,,,,, “u go mutual that’s my mutual!!!!! i love u mutual!!!! i can’t even believe we’re mutuals i don’t deserve u!!!! keep being u mutual!!!”
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thelingering · 2 months ago
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I can't keep staying up until midnight looking through Tumblr and then catch a whiff of the time resulting in my putting everything where it needs to be and getting all ready for bed
and then deciding that now would be a good time to read Dostoyevsky
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aurentaie · 3 months ago
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RE : SEREGIL'S GENDER IDENTITY.
For now, I interpret Seregil as a cis male. However, he has no particular affinity for or loyalty to any gender roles or even how others perceive him. That applies to his identity as a whole for the most part, not just gender. It’s part of what makes his disguises so effective. He knows Aren Windover has a bit of a reputation for being a diva, but Aren Windover is also a talented musician and bard, so that’s part of why his disguise works. Additionally, he is a prime example of the fact that most people have some mix and balance of masculine and feminine personality traits, and that those traits don't necessarily determine a person's gender itself.
This isn't about Aren Windover; it's about Lady Gwethelyn. In The Luck of the Shadows, Seregil dons his Lady Gwethelyn disguise while aboard Captain Rahl’s ship. Alec’s point of view tells us that he himself is nearly deceived by the disguise, despite knowing Seregil is a man. In Seregil’s words, Micum—established and well-trained fighter who would be much more believable in the role of Lady Gwethelyn’s guard than Alec—refuses to work with him when he uses the Lady Gwethelyn persona because he’s “‘too damned pretty by half’ and it makes [Micum] nervous.” Furthermore, Captain Rahl actively tries to seduce Lady Gwethelyn, not seeing through the disguise whatsoever. So it’s clearly very effective and believable. In part, this is because he ages slower than humans, so his young features are easier to transform and mistake as being feminine. It is, for that same reason, a disguise he will also eventually have to stop using when he finally ages out of Aurënfaie adolescence/young adulthood.
He does actively enjoy the fun of the Lady Gwethelyn disguise. Seregil thinks it’s entertaining to see people squirm and blush and become uncomfortable around him. It’s why, soon after he first meets Alec, and takes him on as his own and as Aren Windover’s “apprentice,” he teaches him uncouth bard songs he knows. So the disguise of Lady Gwethelyn making Micum nervous is probably, in Seregil’s eyes, a benefit, even if they are best friends. And, the man absolutely loves being the center of attention and putting on a performance, and almost definitely thinks straight men unwittingly trying to seduce him is also funny, so he has no problem playing along with any of that. However, the Lady Gwethelyn disguise is just that. A disguise.
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icedteaandoldlace · 1 year ago
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Was anyone gonna tell me that Derrick of Derrick And His Dorks played Reeve in the TV movie of The Face on the Milk Carton, or was I just supposed to find that out in a YouTube rabbit hole by myself?
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osachiyo · 1 year ago
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"JUST THE TIP, BABY ! "
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❐ content warnings ➩ nsfw (mdni), penetrative sex, teasing, somnophilia, petnames, established relationship, dom!character & sub!reader, full nelson (toji), prone bone (suguru), semi public sex (satoru), unprotected sex (don't do this), whiney satoru etc
❐ author's note ➩ I've been going feral for jjk men, and I find this trope so sexy. anyway, happy reading 'n hope y'all enjoy this <3
❐ summary ➩ your lover promises to only put in just the tip, but will he keep it?
≛ MINORS DNI OR I'LL KICK YO ASS ! ≛
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๑ satoru ๑
"please baby− need ya s'bad," your boyfriend whined, rutting his hips into your clothed pussy. You two were on a mission, to defeat some special grade curses. "satoru− we can't! we're outside and on a mi−!" you couldn't even finish your sentence before he was sliding your panties to the side, stroking himself before lining up with your entrance. "please, just the tip− I promise, yeah?" he panted out, desperate to be inside you, staring at you with those ocean blue eyes as he waited for your permission. Once you reluctantly gave him the go-ahead, he slapped the tip of his cock against your clit before slowly pushing into you with a wet 'pop!' Your fingernails dug into his broad shoulders, strong arms propping you against the cold brick wall. "sh-shiit baby, fuuuck," he drawled, resting the urge to just slam into you without warning and fuck your brains out. But he couldn't− he promised he wouldn't.
All thoughts of resistance went out the drain when he looked at your face. Your pretty little face; mouth slightly agape as soft moans and hums escape your glossed lips, brows furrowed slightly as you looked up at him with those hazy eyes of yours. I mean, could you really blame him for slamming into you when you look at him like that? He could feel his eyes slightly roll back as your pussy engulfed him fully, loud and lewd squelching and skin against skin noises bounced off the walls of the alley. Your juices ran down your legs and his balls. God, he was insatiable when it came to you. "you− you said just the− mmh!− tip!" you babbled, hands reaching up to grip and tug at his white hair, some of it sticking to his sweaty forehead. "so sorry, pretty− this pussy's just too fuckin' goood−" he slurred, hips slamming into you as his lips smashed into yours for a messy kiss.
Really, you should've known this would happen.
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๑ suguru ๑
His smiles slyly before nodding, knowing from the start that it won't take long before you crumble and beg him to fuck you silly. Snickering when you shyly ask him to put more of it in, impatient and needy for his throbbing cock inside you. He wouldn't admit it, but he's glad, he doesn't think he could stand another minute without fully plunging inside your gummy walls.
You could feel his bangs tickling your back as he presses soft kisses on the dip of your back, all the way to your shoulders before biting hard and slamming all the way into your awaiting cunt. He groaned as his hips were flush against your ass, pulling your head back by the roots of your hair before kissing you roughly. The headboard slammed against the wall with each harsh snap of his hips, abs clenching everytime a filthy noise escaped your parted lips as tears gathered on your lashes. his ravened hair cascaded down his muscular and scarred back, "thought you wanted− haah− just the tip, princess? can't even go by your own− mm yes fuck! juust like that−!" he groaned, rolling his hips against your ass with even more vigour, "can't even go by your own words, princess?" you could hear the grin in his voice, so damn smug, but you were in no position to complain, were you?
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๑ toji ๑
you were peacefully reading a book, laying on your stomach− when your giant of a husband laid on top of you, his crotch right against your ass. "whatcha' readin', mama?" he questioned, breath low and gravelly against your ear. "jus' an erotic novel," you hummed, neck snapping to look at him when you felt him grinding shamelessly on your ass, "boooring, and whatcha' need erotic novels for? I'm right fuckin' here," he scoffed, making your eyes roll. "yeah okay, toji. only reading it for the male lead, he's like this god at sex−" you got cut off by your own gasp, as his large hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing it lightly, "oh yeah? betcha' 20 bucks I could do better." You pouted, excitement already pooling in your panties, "but, I reaaaally wanna read this." Toji only rolled his eyes, "c'mon baby, y'know I'm more fun than a goddamn book?" "okay, fine... but only the tip, alright?"
Toji was not happy, only getting to feel your pussy clenching on his tip, god you were so stingy! He figures he could just fold you and fuck the living daylights out of you− wait, why isn't he doing that right now?
You could feel him in your throat from how deep he was, a small bulge forming on your lower tummy everytime he thrusted into you ruthlessly. He had you in a full nelson in front of the full view mirror you loved and decorated with your cute little stickers. Heavy breaths of 'atta girl' and 'so fuckin' tight f'me, mama,' slipped out of his scarred lips, your face heating up from the desire in his voice. A palm reached down to smack your pretty pussy, your eyes opening as your gaze landed on his face in the mirror. He was smirking triumphantly, strong arms holding you up with ease, "heh, guess ya owe me 20 bucks now, sweet girl."
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๑ kento ๑
Your husband, Nanami questioned his morals when he found himself hiking your nightgown up your thighs in the middle of the night, moonlight seeping in through the opened window, illuminating your features with a gentle glow, and it made him fucking feral.
That's why he had your skimpy little gown bunched up at your waist right now, he already prepped you, eating your pussy out until you gushed in his mouth, he felt too guilty not to, even if you reassured him beforehand that it was okay. He only planned to put the tip in, not wanting to wake you up at 2 am just because he couldn't keep it in his pants− even if he knew that you didn't mind, you never did. But fuck, your walls were clenching and unclenching around him so deliciously and... the next thing he knew, he was ramming into your drooling pussy, jaw clenched as he muttered soft applogies. He buried his face into your neck when you woke with a yelp, moaning and sputtering as you try to process the situation. your pussy was practically drooling and sucking him in eagerly, back arching offt he bed as his thick fingers found your clit, giving it some attention to make you cum on his cock. He smelt like cologne, and still had his work clothes on− letting you know that he came home not too long ago. His cock was hitting your sweet spot with each snap of his hips, gooey cunt swallowing him whole as he let out the most guttural noises, "fuck− sorry for the rude awakening, dear− I couldn't help myself.."
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©sachiyoh — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡
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goldenhuening · 1 year ago
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I officially shared my posts about my cupsleeve event that I'm hosting next month! a little nervous since I haven't gotten much engagement on them, but I'm still a month out so I'll be posting again and hopefully I get a good turn out!
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