😵💫 I rewatched HMB and it reignited my love for the unhinged candy man
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S/I Name: Candyland (formerly April Fools, AKA the Jester)
Source: Holy Musical B@man!
F/Os: Sweet Tooth
Pronouns: They/he
Emoji nickname: candyland 🍬💖
Physical Description: formerly: Brown hair, heterochromia (blue left eye, red right eye), card motifs on cheeks. currently: Blond hair, heterochromia (blue left eye, pink right eye), sprinkles on cheeks, tall, lithe
Attire/Fashion: formerly: white jester-esque tailcoat and hat with colourful speckles and red accents, playing card earrings, bright colours. currently: pink/blue/white frilly candy-esque attire, blue collar, golden ring with blue candy inset, assorted candy in hair, whatever Sweet Tooth prefers
Picrew + Moodboards: (link to picrew)
( him / pre-him / me )
( him / us )
( pre-him / me )
Relevant Ages: Late 20s
Likes: formerly: Practical jokes, bright colours, carnivals, popcorn, carnival foods, puns, murder through pranks and gags. currently: Sweet Tooth, sweets, sugar rush intoxication (exaggerated by Sweet Tooth’s candy), murder of any kind
Dislikes: formerly: Party-poopers, boring people, pun-haters, people who can’t take a joke. currently: Batman, losing their sugar high
Dynamic in Brief: Crazed supervillain x Brainwashed sidekick
Backstory: (warnings for brainwashing, unhealthy relationships, abuse, addiction)
April Fools was an overly cheerful and fun-crazed villain in Gotham before the Joker’s unfortunate demise.
Their motifs were practical jokes and jester-like behaviour, often enacted on their victims to fatal ends. They were abrasive and pushy, frequently demanding that their victims learn to laugh a little and take a joke, even despite the malicious and oftentimes fatal nature of the pranks.
April Fools had a reputation of a troublemaker, and a damn pesky one at that. He enjoyed dropping in unannounced to various villains’ plans and offering an olive branch in the form of wordplay, riddles and jokes. If the unwilling host did not play along and offer a joke in return, April would put a wrench in their scheme and made it go belly-up using upgraded practical joke toys.
They quickly became infamous around Gotham. Before long, it was generally understood by all villains that they needed a small number of riddles or jokes memorized in order to appease April Fools when they inevitably dropped by. They began to be referred to as the Jester; similar to the Joker but yet not quite there.
After the death of the Joker and the subsequent emergence (and claim to power) of Sweet Tooth, April shifted their attention to the pastel egotist. They were interested in Sweet Tooth’s sadistic techniques and they eventually approached him to assess his willingness for games.
Sweet Tooth, having heard of the bothersome Jester, played nice at first and even offered them an assortment of candy during their introduction, to which they gleefully accepted. As April munched on the treats, they both discussed their respective plans and influence of the Gotham area.
Unbeknownst to April Fools, the candy was laced with an extremely addictive and hypnotic agent that made them hyper-suggestable, which Sweet Tooth quickly used to influence the Jester and turn them completely loyal to him and him alone.
April Fools developed a deep devotion to the crazed candy villain, as well as an addiction to the specific candy that Sweet Tooth dosed them with. Sweet Tooth now uses that addiction as a leash, keeping the Jester (now known as Candyland) by his side with calculated doses every few hours.
Candyland is partially aware of the candy's affect but has no choice or ability to fight against it; all they know is that they are meant to be by Sweet Tooth's side, and that being with him is the only time they feel content.
Coaxed by Sweet Tooth's coy words and withheld treats, Candyland alters their appearance to his demands, trying to be the best sidekick they can be.
After all, can they even remember what it was like to act of their own free will? Do they even want to?
imagine your f/o brainwashing you. they tell you that your friends wouldn't understand you, that your relationship with your f/o is too special for them and you're better off without them. they tell you that people don't understand you both, but you don't need anyone but each other. by the end of if all, your f/o becomes your world - pleasing them is your sole purpose in life.
He looks really good. Can you tell how biased I am? That's my husband. He’s the one in the our pfp rn.
Story section:
Former Mittelhammer of Nagel und Hammer's Inquisition, now a grade 6 fixer. His preference to work alone has caused a delay in his advancement amongst the ranks of Fixers. Additionally, he has a tendency to uttering abusive and vulgar language, even in the presence of management.
Ermine struggles with the concept of free will. He had no parents, so he could only survive off of welfare systems that directly leads to indoctrination and militarisation. Every question he asked only lead to him being force fed those canned experiences that kept him obedient.
He wasn't an exceptional person. Because of that, he struggled to kill every single prosthetic users that he was commanded to kill. They don't dispose of their people that easily in N Corp. Even if you wanted to die, you won't be able to. That's just my guess though.
Even as he returned to civilian life, he couldn't uproot the seeds they planted in him. He started working on a gun that would "destroy everything". Of course, actually destroying everything would be violating a Taboo of the City, but he seemed determined to do it. With an unprecedented recklessness like he was above the law itself, he travelled around the City collecting parts from different Workshops to build his magnum opus.
Chatter zone:
Shouldn't glasses be considered a prosthetic? I think he wasn't wearing any when he was in the Inquisition, which means everyone's faces would be blurred as he hammered them. In combat, he also bludgeons others with his unfinished gun. It should be like a bayonet rifle, where one end is like a nail while the other end is blunted and heavy for smashing.
He has a complicated relationship with Chetwyn, that I hope to display more of as we go onboard this tram. Ermine actually has rejection sensitive dysphoria, so he cannot stand when others judge him. And yet, Chetwyn refuses to give a proper reason to why he dislikes Ermine, despite sharing so much similarities. It's like seeking forgiveness for your sins from someone just like you, as a proxy for actually confronting yourself, and Chetwyn with his maxed out Prudence stats just flat out said no.
Right, some fun abnormality things to share too. He resonates with You Must Be Happy / Have You Become Strong, Der Freischütz / Der Fluchschütze, Forsaken Murderer, Funeral of Dead Butterflies and Spider Bud (I don't have a thought out reason for this. It just looks cool on him). And for IDs, he has a ridiculous amount for being such a great employee. but I don't have a need to share that.
Also, I'm debating whether I should give him a cap or not. He often wears one irl so why not?
Peepbeep lore dump time baby!!!
Basically, Peepbeep in TRP is very much like Dr. Puppy from the source. He's completely unaware of what it's doing is wrong has basically been brainwashed by President Meat into thinking that cooking up paitents and serving them as meals is a "fun little game of pretend". Peepbeep doesn't get why people are afraid of him, it thinks that the screaming and suffering is just playing pretend. Not helping is that the staff around him (Mainly the Cafateria staff) are also forced to cook up people, so it sees this as perfectly okay.
He doesn't know what's going on...
@dimensional-funfetti @cartooemcanhis @beclight @patchofglass @swaggycarnage @dusk-hollow @eeveejaysparkles @sprinklespoof @solardontcare @catnipcannibal @chunktism @bloodravenzz @salcommitsarson @doomin-gloom @shitfuck101 @sweetietreaats88
Rules: Respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you'd like to get to know a little better!
It gets VERY long, so- all under the cut! For those who don't want to read the everything's, I'll include the blank list to respond to up here!
Name:
Pronouns:
Muse:
Preferred Communication:
RP Experience:
Preferred RP Type:
Pet Peeves and Dealbreakers:
Long Replies or Short Replies:
Best Time To Write:
Are You Like Your Muse:
Please check the tags for a complete list of warnings for the pet peeves/dealbreakers section.
Name: Writer
Pronouns: They/Them
Muse: I,...am going to separate these by blog, as well as Canon vs. Original Character vs. SI. So! Gimme a moment,...
Reflections-of-Mobius - Self Inserts
Cedar Iso // Maned Wolf Mobian
Cinnamon "Cinn" // Cheetah-Fox Mobian
Devlin the Wolf
Node Dust Gate // Fennec Fox Mobian
Reflections-of-Mobius - Original Characters
Tempest Mirror Lock // Human
Willow Fae Feather // Owl Mobian
Reflections-of-Mobius - Canons
Julius Ivo Robotnik // Human
Mephiles "Murk" the Dark
Shadow "Nova" the Hedgehog
Shadow "Rust" the Hedgehog
Sonic "Azure" the Hedgehog
Sonic "Bless" the Hedgehog // Werehog (Night Only)
Strawbeet "Barry" the Quokka
Dark Gaia "Tenebrosity" // Deity/Embodiment of Fear, Death, Darkness, Etc.
They're all Cybertronians, so these will also be listed with a 'verse instead of a species!
Shatter Prime // ShatteredGlass!TFO
Swindle // TFA
Nemesis Prime // Personal AU
Wheeljack // TFP
Preferred Communication: I do genuinely prefer to communicate via Discord as opposed to Tumblr. I don't always have Tumblr open, and I don't always get notifications for it- so I just,...prefer Discord. I know some folks don't use Discord so, I'm fine with using Tumblr DMs if they're preferred. ^^
RP Experience: I've been roleplaying since sometime in 2016/2017, when I first started roleplaying in the MCSM fandom. A lot of shit went down in my first few years of RP, so,....I'm...a bit more jaded about stuff, now.
Preferred RP Type: Multi-paragraph. I can do short replies, and sometimes I might make one, but I do genuinely prefer to write in longer formats. I can do short, snappy replies, but I almost solely reserve those for crack. If we're talking genre,...I prefer fluff. I can go the route of angst, but I need a backbone to actually care for it, if that makes sense? Just tossing me someone bleeding out that my muses have never met before (even if they are kindhearted) doesn't...strike me all that much. They have no personal attachment, they're just helping because they're good folk (for the most part). So I try to start off with some type of introduction or lightheartedness, if possible (or if not, a tense conversation/'forced to work together' scenario at best- but still).
Pet Peeves and Dealbreakers: Hoo boy. Pet Peeves? Deal breakers? God,....
I'm definitely not going to sound all that gentle writing these, and I apologize in advance about that. But some of this involves stories from earlier-on in my roleplay history, when I was just starting out. Some is more recent. Some have been scattered throughout- it really just depends!
This section got hella long. I've- been through the ringer when it comes to RPC shittery over the years (both on Discord and on Tumblr), so I've got a lot of pet peeves and dealbreakers. If you don't want to read me basically venting for a while, head down to the smiling Chilchuck icon (the first one).
Pet Peeves:
Being Messaged Nonstop - I don't mean 'a few messages and then call it until I respond', I mean constant. Unending. A veritable deluge of 50+ messages in the span of maybe ten minutes. I'm perfectly fine receiving a few messages- I personally try to limit myself to 2-3 and then wait for a response, and I prefer others do the same for me (folks I've known a long while/friends generally have a higher limit of 8-9). What I cannot stand, is being hit with so many messages when I haven't even responded, yet. It makes me want to run and hide and not respond. I have to actively push myself to read it all and reply. It's like, once the message count gets high enough, something in my brain just snaps and refuses. I don't like it.
This applies to DMs, attempts to get my attention, etc., etc., but not stuff like Discord servers and whatnot (because I doubt you're talking to me solely for 50+ messages). Though, once a message set hits 25+,...I...don't go back and read the whole thing.
"I Replied!" - Brilliant, thank you. I do not need the update unless you're shadowbanned. It just feels like you're silently screaming at me to write a response ASAP. Now, receiving commentary about the thread as you're writing a response (or even after)? Perfectly fine! Love it! Live to see it!!!! /gen - But for the love of God, you do not need to tell me to my face that you replied to the thread unless Tumblr is eating notifications from you.
Rule Ignorers - This actually goes hand-in-hand with a mini-story I put on the third Dealbreaker. But,...people who blatantly ignore my rules piss me off. They are there for a reason.- I personally try to make sure that I read rules before I ever follow anyone, and even after, if I get worried about a rule (whether actual or perceived), I'll go back and check again just to be safe! I cannot understand people who follow willy-nilly without checking rules pages first.
Constant Humiliation - This isn't for me, as a mun. This is for my muses. Yes, sometimes, muses will be humiliated. They will suffer. That's perfectly fine and I expect it! But constantly belittling my muses, constantly having them fail and never succeed, is an annoyance. I've had people who solely wanted to RP that way before, and it was- upsetting, to say the least.
"Please Send Me Asks!/I'm So Bored, Send Asks!" - No. I'm not going to. You post that, and I will start avoiding your ask box like it's the plague. There's just something about begging for asks (especially without offering any in return) that just royally pisses me off. I used to humor people who made those posts because I felt bad they weren't getting asks- but then they'd post those again. And again. And again. They'd whine and whine about wanting interactions but never reached out, never bothered trying to engage with anyone. So eventually I just,...stopped humoring it. And I do not humor it. I'll still interact with people who post this kinda stuff (for a time) but if it becomes constant, I will unfollow and potentially block. I've even had some who'd beg for asks, get their inbox overloaded, and then delete all the asks they got without ever answering them. So my apologies, but I'm jaded to that kinda shit, now.
The only thing I really do is 'A-Waves' every now and then (wherein I send a paragraph of specifically-themed questions concerning a muse to a whole ton of folks so they have something to chew on), or friends' RP memes if one particularly strikes me. I also send in the odd anon just to be a menace, but that is neither here nor there.
"Please interact with me/plot with me!" - Same as the above. Tried to reach out to people who made such posts, never got a response despite being mutuals and the like. No point.
My Muses are Observers Only - Exactly as it says on the tin. I do not like threads/story beats where my characters could literally not be there and everything would play out basically the same. This is a hazard, since it's really easy to fall into if there are a lot of muses present. It's only made even worse when people try to (clunkily) add my muses in, with a random out-of-place question or just suddenly 'noticing they're there' again after a scene or two where mine could basically just. Do nothing. I could literally just put a timeskip and it would have the same effect. Even worse is if my muses try to interact with the scene, and are ignored. Like. Mate. If you wanna write fanfiction, go write fanfiction. Do not force my muses to be observers to it when I did not fucking ask.
This one is why I try (try) to ensure the others' muses are constantly, constantly involved, being spoken to, interacted with, etc., etc.- because I've had this happen to me more than a few times. Do you want your muses to just silently observe? To be a ghost in the thread? When you specifically either reached out or I reached out to interact with them?
This does not count for 'event' threads, because (when I write events, and what I've noticed from friends who write events) I try to make it so the 'event' others' muses encounter with mine includes them. In this case, technically, the other's muse(s) could 'not be there' and events would nearly play out the same,... But at least with that sort of thing, they're able to participate. They're not being shunted off to the side like old Barbie Dolls, sat beside a storage bin and made to watch the other Barbie Dolls play with one another.
Overwriting Details I Included - This is worse than just ignoring something simple like 'the sun was out'. This is responding to something where I stated one thing (i. e., 'Optimus was standing on X's left), and outright saying something else in your own reply (i. e., 'Optimus was standing on X's right'). That is the simplest version, but I've had people go so far as to completely change what my muse said just for their response. Don't.
Miscommunication Plotlines - Self explanatory. I don't like plots where muses are at odds/against one another because they misunderstood each other. If anything, it's grating to me. I will often avoid these or point out why they wouldn't work with my muses, because I don't want to deal with them.
Dealbreakers:
Nonstop Angst/Torture Porn - This heralds back to the earliest days of my RP timeline, actually. Way back before I had anyone more than Myth Re-Sear Mask, who is my oldest (accomplished) self-insert. One of the first people I roleplayed with roleplayed nonstop angst/torture scenarios. It didn't matter if I asked if we could do a fluff RP, if we could do something simple and light every once in a while.- Every. Single. RP. Eventually devolved into their character going on a killing spree, torturing mine until they died, and/or enslaving the entire fucking planet. It could be a simple roleplay like 'X and Y go and cuddle' and they'd eventually request something like 'W (who is a friend of X) is going to go poison Z and then absolutely go DarkFic Cupcakes-style insane™ on them'. This was a nonstop stream of content for the entire first year that I roleplayed online.
I'm pretty sure I've been scarred by constantly putting myself in the mental shoes of characters that were actively being tortured and/or murdered (I was less-decent about separating character from self, back then- the other person would hop off for the night after multiple hours of writing how my character was brutally torn to shreds, or made to eat broken glass, or covered in burning-hot wax and then set ablaze or whatever, and I would be shaking and feeling like I was about to vomit until I went to bed). I spot someone pulling this kinda shit, and it's game over. OUT.
Hilariously, that whole year ended with me being allowed to make a self-insert who was basically god-like to combat the other person's muse. Said self-insert went insane, killed the other muse with zero hesitation (I was allowed to by the mun), and then promptly destroyed the reality in which they lived from sheer madness. Said self-insert, known as 'Nature', is still around- they're in fact implied to be Atlas' savior from Legend at the start of their story, and I figure Nature also had a hand in the start of Solar and Sol's journeys. Even if their creation came from what I would consider to be a barrage of bad roleplay experiences, Nature is still near and dear to my heart.
'I Just Wanna (Rom) Ship With Your [Canon]' - I have had people approach me concerning this over the years. It's why I'm so explicit about how my blog works- because I may love shipping (to an insane extent, hopeless romantic heart can't rest)- but I am so fucking over people just approaching me to ship with the canons. Hilariously, I was one of those people when I was younger. I sought out Sonic the Hedgehog blogs so I could ship Tempest with them- but when I started my own Shadow the Hedgehog blog (and things went the route of autoship without my permission),...I learned what the other side was like. So, I was one of those shits. I know what it's like to be targeted solely for a ship you don't fucking want and didn't fucking ask for. And I know what it's like to solely seek people out to ship with. As such, I don't bring up ships I'm interested in with other muses, anymore. I figure I'd be an annoyance- because I know damn well what that was like from both sides, and I have no intent to piss anyone off. I know it pisses me off.
Well, a caveat to 'I don't bring up ships I'm interested in'- I do have ships I get interested in with others' muses, but I do not want to come across as solely being here for a ship, so...I don't bring them up. I post stuff like 'Send X and I'll respond with throuple ship hcs' and whatnot because that's,...pretty much the only way I figure it's okay? Unless someone just straight-up comes up to me and goes 'hey. Hey it is perfectly fine if you wanna discuss (rom) shipping between our muses, and perfectly fine if not, too'. I just,...don't want people going 'Hey I'm here to ship with your Canon' the moment they see me. It's annoying as Hell. Makes me feel- very replaceable. Also, a direct rule violation of one of my rules.
"No Self Inserts/Real People Muses" - Pretty self-explanatory. Half of my muses (roughly) are self inserts. As such, they're relatively 'real people muses'. I can separate reality from fiction, but I know that it bugs people, so the second I see 'no self inserts' or 'no RPF' in a ruleset, I head off. I have had people follow me before that had that rule in their set, and the second I warned them,...they blocked me. Which is completely fair, but it's still upsetting to me. There's a reason that I am so open about some of my muses being self inserts.
Constant Starter Calls, No Starters - This,..I have to be following someone for a while before I notice. But it does happen, and when it does, I lose all faith in the mun associated. See, I've liked starter calls (alongside a mass of folks before) from certain 'RP' blogs,...and never got a starter. Nor did anyone else. Then they'd say they had too many starters they owed, they'd delete the call, and they'd make a new one. Rinse and repeat for infinity. I'm at a point where, if it happens twice, I just stop liking the calls anymore. I unfollow. I know it's not happening. This is also a pet peeve of mine, but since I unfollow and break mutuals/possibly soft block, I suppose it counts more as a dealbreaker. This is why I try my hardest to always make sure I get to everyone who interacts with my starter/plotting/inbox/etc. calls. I refuse to be that person.
Instant Combat - No. Don't even fucking dare. Going back to my first dealbreaker, when I wrote combat with that person, their muse godmodded constantly. And at the time, I didn't realize that's a bad thing.- All the roleplayed fights ended in their muse winning and proceeding to (yet again) brutally torture mine for several real world days, if not weeks. It has been ingrained into me that muse v. muse will end in gratuitous torture, and I know that's not the case- but it freaks me out all the same. That's why my muses will always attempt to de-escalate, if possible- and if it's not, I'll cut the thread then and there (and most likely block after explaining why I'm blocking).
So I need a warning before muse v. muse combat breaks out. I'd prefer a warning before 'muses v. unnamed horde/cannon fodder' combat breaks out, but it's not required. Hilariously, I do genuinely love writing both combat (in my fanfics), and 'muses v. unnamed horde/cannon fodder' scenes.
The only real exception is if muse v. muse combat has been discussed OOC, and the outcome is predetermined based on those discussions. Even then, I'm not keen on muse v. muse combat- so please be careful.
For the record, I am very aware that everything I went through concerning that person was entirely my own fault. I accept that I could have stopped it at any time and didn't, and now I have to live with the consequences. I'm a very 'muse v. muse' averse roleplayer thanks to all that went down, and I can wig out if a fight between muses seems like it's going to break out. That's the result of my own (shitty) idiotic choices when I was younger. The other person does not have all the blame, I should have stood up for myself, and I didn't until the damage was already done.
Okay now that that whole mess has been spoken, on to softer things! This fluffy section was not included in the original meme, I just added it because, if we're gonna do pet peeves and dealbreakers, let's also do 'Soft Spots' and 'Oath Makers'! If you wanna continue onto the actual RP meme, please go to the first manga icon.
Soft Spots - Things that make me giddy, happy, etc., in the RPC (and when interacting with others).
Oath Makers - Things that, once done, will probably have me sticking around for a long time to come.
Soft Spots:
Targeting the OCs && SIs - Yes. It's silly, since I also roleplay Canons. But- it's...nice. When I was younger, I experienced firsthand how vast the chasm was between interactions as an OC blog and interactions as a Canon blog, and it's...stuck with me. Don't get me wrong, I adore interactions that my Canons get, as well!!!! But--- when people specifically interact with my OCs and SIs, it's just...a bit of a different vibe? To me?
Even just including them in a given interaction is enough to make me happy. And I don't mean just 'add their name to the prompt or whatever and then forget they exist'. I mean actively choosing to interact with both them and the canon.
Responding to Headcanons Posts - Even if it's just a bunch of emojis or something, I do love it. It warms my heart to know people actually read that stuff and don't just- ignore it. I try to do the same for everyone around me, in turn. Even if it's just liking the post and moving on. People like those headcanon posts and it is so hard for me to not squeal every stinkin' time.
Together, They Win - Any and all attempts to make it so our muses can overcome adversity together. Making a challenge that one wouldn't be able to surpass on their own, but jointly, they can. Not 'one has all the power and without said one, the other is fucked'- but 'only by teaming up are they able to win'. I enjoy trying to make challenges that the muses can't overcome separately, but only jointly.
Enter the Fluff Train - Silly things. Soft things. I adore. It doesn't have to be constant (I do enjoy myself a good 'X is injured and Y has to treat them/get them to someone who can treat them'), but I definitely run on fluff as opposed to angst. What's the ol' saying?- "Lead by the carrot, not the stick"?
"So I Was Thinking About (Plat/Fam) Shipping Our Muses,..." - While not as much as the 'rom' side (you can find that in the 'oath makers' section!)- I do still adore platonic and familial vibes. I just- really love the fluff. The softness--- please grant it to me, I will devour it so freaking aggressively. Of course, it's gotta be built up to (just like any other kind of relationship!)- but let me know, and I'm probably down!
Responding in the Tags - I often write my thoughts into the tags of my roleplay replies. Stuff concerning how I think the thread could go (if it wasn't pre-planned), jokes I thought of during the reply, ribbing our muses for being goobers- all that good stuff! I'm perfectly fine if that's replied to on Discord or in the DMs or something, but just- respond to it, if you're willing? Makes me happy. I try to do the same when I spot others also commenting in the tags, and if I don't catch it in time, I'll probably send a DM about whatcha wrote down there, OOC!
"This Post Reminded Me of You." - Pretty self-explanatory. Tagging me in posts that remind you of me/my muses, sending me 'em- makes me chuckle, sometimes. I have a friend who jokes every now and again that they 'accidentally got my YouTube Feed' because they'll suddenly start getting a shit-ton of Optimus Prime themed vids and whatnot.
To Its Conclusion - Following a thread through 'til the end. I've been guilty of cutting threads short because I got overwhelmed, wasn't feeling the muse, etc., etc.- but when a thread is allowed to reach what feels like a natural conclusion? It's so pleasant. I genuinely prefer it- though it feels so rare.
Oath Makers:
Actively Including My Headcanons - Legitimately just. Makes me squeal. Drives me up a wall. I'm going to bite you. This can be either in-character in a thread, or something mentioned OOC. But any time someone brings up headcanons I have for a character (without me mentioning it first)? By God, I love you. I adore you. Thank you so much.
Included in that is reading the story updates I post. Actively messaging me about those OOC and possibly even wanting to be involved in events concerning those 'verses in the future. It means the world to me when people want to become entrenched in my stories- and I try to offer up the same! I see updates, drabbles, etc., and I try to read them- that way I can know how that mun's 'verse goes!
Teasing the Couples/Ships - By God, this is my bread and butter. Whether they're together, planned to be, or otherwise, I just really love when my muses get teased about the relationships they're in. I will give you my blood to be menaces to them. At times, I feel like I'm a little overbearing when I write the couples being- well. Couples- so when people have their muses respond (or even respond OOC) with positivity or teases? Means the world t'me.
Hell, one of my friends (bitch I know who you are /pos) actively pushed WfC!Optimus (The Rebel Leader) and Solar (The Healer) into being an active couple. And when they did? Mate, I was fuckin' squealing off and on for days over it. (Don't think your muses are safe from [relative] return fire, mate....)
Working to Weave Storylines - By this, I mean coming up with a long term plot for our muses. Not just something in the short term. I like having an overall idea of where our muses are eventually headed- the roadmap is pleasant to have. But also, trying to make sure both sides can incorporate everything they're after- from fluff to angst and all in-between! I don't feel like this happens very often, but I long for it.
"So, I Was Thinking About (Rom) Shipping Our Muses,..." - This one can be so difficult to achieve, and can so easily turn into a dealbreaker, instead. But when it's done well? I adore it. I am always down for an adorable ship, y'just gotta let me know you're interested! I don't expect this right off the bat, since I figure no one is interested in shipping with a self insert and a canon right from the start- but if it happens? It means the world to me, and I will go insane concerning our muses.
And yes, this is the hopeless romantic in me coming out in full force. I love romantic ships, to the point of excess. Our muses, all loving one another equally, kissing and cuddling and junk? Sign me right the HELL UP.
This one can be made even more aggressive if you've been paying attention to my headcanons, and jointly ensuring the muses you want to ship with have been getting attention from yours! I will bite you to death and there will be no escape, of that I promise. So far, there's only been one person who's actually done a throuple ship with me, and I adore our ship so much (thank you for takin' a chance on my silly fox n' hedgehog, friendo~).
Strike the Balance - This can be difficult to achieve, but knowing when to hit with angst, and when to hit with fluff. I'm more of a fluff person, so obviously that's the easier target- but it doesn't exist in a vacuum! Muses are characters, and a good story doesn't flow without stakes or issues that arise- problems to overcome and all that.
Starting right off the bat with angst, for me, is not striking that balance. Start soft, let characters get to know one another,...and then strike with something that makes sense to how much they care about one another (if at all). I hope and pray that makes sense, but probably not. So. Uh. Best of luck!
Okay, back to the original mun meme. Let's go!
Long Replies or Short Replies: Genuinely prefer longer replies. I have a habit of stretching reply lengths until I hit something I personally like. I never expect people to match my personal length, but I do enforce at least a three-sentence minimum (unless it's crack) simply because I want some stuff to go off of.
Best Time To Write: Either right after I wake up, or way late in the night. There's something about the midday that just...doesn't get the juices flowin'. Dunno why. Doesn't really stop me, though.
Are You Like Your Muse: I'm like all the self inserts. The differences between me and them is that the self-inserts sometimes have altered upbringings (to fit the tone I wanna set for 'em), and they live through events I know damn well I could never.
I- don't really see myself as being 'like' the Canons I portray. I may share a personality trait or two here and there, but,...I don't figure(?) I'm similar? I leave that up to y'all's discretion. As for the OCs (Tempest and Willow),...they both started as SIs, then became their own things- so,...I kinda feel like I'm like them? But it's more disconnected than with the self inserts.
Tagged by: @dollofiacon (thank ya, mate!)
Tagging: @familylightfox, @bundlesofchaos (when you can, mate!), @littlefayre, @herbietheautobot, @sp01lerwarn1ng, @wrangleofkaon, and anyone else who hasn't done it yet but wants to! Have fun and go wild!!!
Warnings: Mind control fetish, dom/sub dynamics, Bill gave Ford some weird kinks and the sooner Stan can make it work for them the sooner they can turn this Sailing Retirement into a Gargantuan Amounts Of Sex World Tour, Ford tries to dom but is a sub at heart, dubious consent, if its dubious consent on both sides is it still dub con or just a very weird moment for everyone?, hand jobs, blow jobs, though admittedly the smut at the end is purpousefully a bit of an afterthought.
Notes: I have always been curious about the concept of 'Dark Ford but Stan turns the tables on him' as a concept but i don't really see it in fic
--
Sixer had always been... a bit of a control freak. It wasn't a huge deal or anything back in the day because while Stan was rambunctious he DID know when his brother knew better and was willing to follow his brains and plans and all of that. He was perfectly content to simply punch in the direction that Stanford pointed him in.
In his more bitter moments on the road he hadn't wondered if Ford's actual anger at the science fair project thing was more for the fact that he hadn't been in control in the moment (and Stan hadn't been either but that was his own fault, Pa was right in that regard) or if Ford hadn't already been pulling away from him in the first place because He'd wanted to keep being in control of the situation-
and when his wants for 'the plan' had changed, the fact that Stan's hadn't had put him in a place where he couldn't control the situation as well.
He didn't know. By that point maybe he didn't know his brother all that well at all anymore. (maybe he'd stopped knowing his brother well when he'd had to start looking away when Ford would change in their room because his throat would suddenly get dry and his heart would race, If it wouldn't have ruined everything between them Stan would have wondered if it would be a comfort to Ford to know his brother was much more of a freak than he'd ever be)
By the time he was being summoned to oregon he was well aware his brother was a different person now, it was fine, he was too. But it seemed Stanford's desire for control had never faded. It might have been the biggest screw up and mistake of Stanley's life- but if Ford was ever even the slightest bit willing to actually work WITH him it could have been avoided. It was still Stan's fault in the end though. his brother was a control freak, but that was fine- everyone had their flaws. But Ford was gentle he was always gentle.
this horror nightmare dimension on the other side of the portal- that was going to do horrible things to him and he was going to need him.
There was an odd vindictiveness to it- that for the first time, He had been in control and not Ford. He was the one that was doing something about all of this. Not his brother. If it wasn't because of his own failures, he would have called it oddly nice.
Then there came that summer, the twins, the portal working again, Bill....
and ultimately, Ford coming back.
And coming back even more of a control freak as ever. But it was okay now. They were okay now.
and Ford had smiled at him and the plan was the one Stanley had given up on but always secretly still wanted. And maybe Stan could live with being the person that just punched in the direction Ford pointed him in again.
Maybe it would be fun.
maybe being around the person Ford was now would mean that the hard thump in his chest would stop.
--
It was about two months out to sea when it happened. Stan had had a fling with a siren most recently, apparently they didn't actually mind control people, they just found out what you wanted and told you they had it until you'd go after them. He'd met a little blacksheep that wanted to talk about what SHE wanted, and Stan had been curious- but it turns out that angle was in and of itself a siren angle and he'd been dragged into the water.
Ford had been pissed beyond all beleif- he had of course warned Stan about it, freshwater sirens were mostly harmless apparently, and double apparently he'd even dated one himself in Gravity falls, but saltwater sirens were to a one maneaters. But Stan had dodged hypothermia and they sent a polaroid to the kids of him still picking kelp out of his hair to make it feel funny again.
But ford had had this weird twist to his mouth for the rest of the day, and Stan wasn't sure if it was really all THAT big of a deal because- well he'd punched out a few of the girls siren buddies, so they weren't THAT tough... but...
Ford was still pretty pissed. So Stan- figured he'd better do something to make it up to his brother.
"Hey- come on Poindexter- I'm fine, and those sirens weren't nothing!" he swung an arm around Ford's shoulders and the pinch to his lip didn't fade, but his gaze did soften a touch.
and Stan figured he was PROBABLY in the clear...
"Life would just be easier if you just-... listened more Stanley..." He groaned, and Stan grinned.
"Sorry Poindexter, Im too stubborn for ya! Can't stop me unless ya tie me down!"
Ford went wierdly quiet at that.
like... WIERDLY quiet.
it should probably have been a red flag, but in that moment Stan just wondered if he was re-lancing the wound before it was ready so instead he joked again "And even then it's a 50/50 shot i'll just get back out!"
and thankfully Ford laughed again.
though Stan did feel eyes on him every so often for the rest of the day.
--
admittedly that should have been something his conman brain should have picked up on, but as it was he seemed to have blinders when it came to Ford, his brother was always surprising him.
So naturally he didn't suspect most anything at all when on a calm day still on the coast of Ireland, Ford mentioned wanting to stay 'home' rather than go to the pub in the village they were docked at.
And Stan figured he probably should hang with him as to make up for the whole 'scaring ford half to death for nearly becoming Siren chow' thing, so he stayed behind as well and while Ford was doing... whatever he was doing he'd update the sail logs. for all that it grated on Stan that they were going to have to be 'on the books' now and probably until after he croaked, if they managed to somehow end up lost at sea then the kids were SURE to recover their logs somehow and they should know if they went out figthing a kracken or running from antlantian guards or something.
"Hey Stanley-" Ford spoke up from where he was rummaging through his things, clearly looking for something. "Can you close the cabin door?"
"Huh-?" He was maybe ABOUT to complain about his knees but, eh whatever. he got up and his knees creaked ominously, but he lumbered the two steps over to the cabin door and shut it. "what's the deal, Ford? you find some contraband in there that could get us thrown out of Leprechaun territory before i can steal a pot of gold from these rubes?"
"No- I simply wanted to know if you would... like to experience something with me?" Ford pulled out a worn down looking bag full of... some irridescent shimmery looking shit-
"Did mabel send us a bag of glitter and you're about to throw it in my face?" he wondered treptidatiously, and Ford grinned, and... it looked wierdly sharp. Stan was more on guard than he perhaps should have been, (though in hindsight that possibly is what made things shake out the way they did so he was thankful for his paranoia in that moment)
"No- this is something i came across a few dimensions ago, it's a sort of pscychoactive substance that when burned releases a smoke that upon inhilation can cause a delightfully non-addicting sensation."
wait...
"Sixer are you asking me if i wanna get high with you?" ford's cheeks suddenly burned red and he coughed into his hand; and stan only took a moment to appreciate that that bashful look made his whole face soften.
"to put it crassly, i suppose, i simply have experienced such a thing before and i considered that you would appreciate such a state as well."
Then ford grinned a beseeching grin at him with that pink in his cheeks not faded yet and Stan was a weak weak man with a disgusting attraction that should not be. because he rolled his eyes and headed for his bed, because ford grinning at him like that was kind of all he needed to do whatever his twin (his TWIN he was such a sick freak that it hadn't even changed now after EVERYTHING) wanted him to.
Stan liked giving ford what he wanted- he was sure if he dug his heels in and said a firm no he'd be able to out-stubborn his brother, but he LIKED giving Ford what he wanted. So he leaned back against his pillows and threw his hands behind his head.
"Alright nerd, smoke away."
He tilted his head to watch Ford's hands fumble slightly with a box of matches that were already in his hand, and the wierd glimmery powder was already in a bowl-wow he really had already set the whole thing up before Stan had agreed, hadn't he?
that in hindsight should have been another red flag, but then the flame had gone down onto the shimmering powder- and he'd noticed that Ford had upturned the whole bag rather than portioning it out if they wanted to try this again-
but then the smoke hit the air.
it smelled... wierdly sweet- like burning Cherry wood or Apricot wood... and it WAS kind of a woodburning smell- in a weird way it sort of reminded him of the campfires they used to make when they were young.
the old neighborhood in glass shard beach had no space for a wood burning fireplace or anything, they had a squeaky radiator like everyone else who lived above their family's shop...
"Smells good-" he hummed. but when he glanced at Ford he noticed his brother seemed to already be feeling the effects, he was blinking rapidly and had lifted his hands up to cover his nose. he of course, laughed.
"You get a face full of it by lighting it off sixer?" rookie mistake, he had figured out several tricks to not get a full face of weed smoke back in the day himself, but it seemed Ford wasn't all that much of a recreational drugs person in his own portal based adventures if he made such a rookie mistake...
"No it- it smells odd..." Ford leaned back, and rather than settling onto his own bed he sat on the edge of Stan's. "oddly acrid."
"Really? smells fine to me." he gave another experimental sniff and sure enough yes, the smell of sweet woods and campfires and all of that... "What does it smell different for everyone or something? scifi nerd drugs change smell depending on the person?" he wondered, and, after a moment's pause, ford sighed.
"Yes i suppose so. It's... probably fine, as you said."
An rare concession from Ford, but a welcome one so Stan scooted to the side a bit and patted at the empty space on his bed. "come on- if you're gonna be right here when we both get high as balls on space weed then might as well get comfy."
and Ford, thankfully, listened to him and reclined next to him as they began to hotbox their cabin
For a while Stan was wondering if the damn drug would kick in yet, because he was just smelling some not unpleasent sweet woodburn smoke but he absolutely did not feel high. Not even in the way that waiting for an edible to kick in would...
though when he tilted his head to ask his brother if he'd gotten jacked by the space-dealer he'd gotten this shit from, Ford...had been effected.
His brother was turned almost entirely toward him, watching him closely, eyes dilated so far that there was only a barely visible ring of dark brown against black.
"You... doing okay Ford?" he wondered- "you want me to crack open a window?"
"No. it's fine." Ford answered, and then followed up with his own "How are you feeling?"
which- whatever. Stan Shrugged. "I mean- fine I guess. doesn't really feel like it's hitting much- you know?"
Ford's brow furrowed, and he began to sit up, he looked weirdly perturbed. "What do you mean?" he wondered. and Stan, feeling weird about still reclining while Ford sat up, followed his lead and sat up himself.
"Well- i mean it smells nice, like one of those driftwood campfires we'd use to make on the beach when we were kids, but i don't feel any different. I've been high before, i know what it feels like- you know?"
"What's it supposed to feel like?" he brought up, and- for a moment Stanford looked... weirdly dodgy, looking away, pulling away from him- and okay- that wasn't a good sign. So he pulled out the boss voice. "Stanford, what's going on?"
And Ford was CONSIDERABLY higher than he was, because he folded immediately at the firm tone in his voice.
"You never listen to me. Stanley you NEVER listen to me. if you just LISTENED to me everything would be better! You almost died and everything ALWAYS goes bad when you dont just let me do the thinking im the smart one im the one that SHOULD be in control- and this is Going to - this is going to help us...!"
He pressed his hands to Stan's shoulders, and- fucking- what?
"Stanford are you trying to fucking mind control me? is this mind control shit?"
he felt his ire rising, and Ford-... maybe had thought he was trying to push him back down but he was stoned out of his gourd clearly because he just balled his fists into Stan's shirt and leaned forward a bit too much- honestly it almost looked like he was going to kiss him-
"Not- not really- well- maybe- kind of? It's... I didn't-" he looked back to the still smoking bowl. "It's... not working right."
Stan grit his teeth, and forced down his emotional reaction- he could get pissed when Ford was sober- or maybe wait to get the full explanation and then FORCE him to get lucid by throwing him into the cold irish bay.
"What was supposed to happen. What is this stuff-" he glared at Ford and his brother almost seemed to shrink under his ire. "Tell me. The truth."
Maybe the space drug was booby trapped or something because once he made it a full command, Ford's already hazy gaze seemed just... glaze over.
like all of his brain power was completely shut off but for what he needed to do to fulfil an order.
"I got it in a black market spaceport, i was considering using it for non-lethally neutralizing Bill for a time, it's a meathod of Gambling. the smoke creates a psychic link between those whom inhale it at the same time and the weakest willied will get their willpower siphoned into the stronger willed until the weaker willed could have their very reality rewritten with ease. You were supposed to be the weaker and i could use it to mean you'd stop fighting me on stupid things. And-" Ford's face twisted, in the most resistance in all of this that he seemed capable of as he was trying to bite something back from coming out of his mouth.
which was all well and good because stan slumped onto his knees and tried to keep from screaming.
Keep calm. His brother just tried to... drug and mentally enslave him- that was... it wasn't fine but clearly it didn't fucking WORK so he couldn't be TOO mad he just needed to parse out how mad he SHOULD be when Ford snapped out of this fugue state and went back to being a control freak that was so manic about being a control freak that hed try to mind control him-
"-And i could make you love me"
His eyes snapped open and he turned back to Ford, whom, if possible looked even drowsier than before, like resisting saying that had taken so much energy that he no longer had any more to fight off whatever this fucking psychic mind control drug shit was.
"....What? Ford of course i love you- you're my brother why do you think you needed to do that shit to me to love you?"
"Not like that." Ford's voice had dropped, into a drowsy monotone, like he was speaking in his sleep. "Not like a brother-"
and Stan's blood both froze over and lit aflame at once.
"....What?"
"was- was always jealous..." ford mumbled, and Stan had to press a hand to Ford's shoulder so he wouldn't topple over back onto the floor and he bonelessly flopped onto his bed. "didnt like to see you dating girls" his eyelids were fluttering now, the stupor this whole 'willpower draining' thing was putting him under was very much leaving him too tired to care about anything. like the concious mind had fully shut down and he wasn't really talking to Ford anymore so much as his subconcious.
so that was what he meant by 'the weaker could have their reality shaped'...
which was all the details he was focusing on so he didn't have to think about the fact that ford was implying- that he was saying...
that he felt the same way...
"Wanted you to kiss me instead..." he practically moaned out. And... Stan didn't know why, but he stood up, took the smoking bowl, and walked back to place it beside where ford's head had fallen.
And he didn't know why but he leaned in and started to murmur.
he had rolled with a lot of strange crowds over his ten years of homelessness, and he'd seen things. things that were used to help the women and men of the night that he'd rolled with in Chicago disassociate enough to be able to take clients they couldn't get it up for.
they wouldn't waste drugs in a city of actors. and actors meant things like hypnotists. And he wasn't really attractive enough to be easily selected unless he was someone's type, but the pimp he'd been rolling with for a bit had noticed he had a mean hook so he was sent in to watch the girls and twinks to make sure the people he paid for the time of never put anything nasty in their heads that might take away workers.
"Keep breathing, nice and deep- in.... and out... feel that smoke coming in... feel it clouding up that busy mind, feel it making everything go slower and slower, and how nice it is to feel it going slow. You're always thinking so much Stanford, about so many things, your mind is so exhausted. It feels so good to let your thoughts slow with every deep breath in. And every time you breathe out that smoke has stuck to more and more of your will and your thoughts and when you breathe out you can feel them drifting away, and coming into me-"
"And it's so so easy to just admit to things even if you didn't let yourself think about them much when you feel so smokey and good right now, Isn't that right? You can just say things you knew deep down but were too scared to say, because Your Stan's got you. And you know your Stanley can keep you safe, isn't that right?"
Ford took a deep breath, and sighed out a euphoric "yes...." and Stan figured he probably only had a limited amount of time till this will smoke stuff faded.
and...
well if Ford thought his willpower wasn't important enough to be respected- maybe it'd be justice to understand why.
"Why did you decide to use this instead of any other way to get Stan to listen to you? Why mind control?"
"I find mind control, brainwashing, hypnosis and other types of mental dominance extremely arousing."
Oh.
OH
Well fuck...
"....Is that something you always knew or did you learn it from someone?"
"Bill showed me how wonderful it can be, he was always in control and i wanted to be in control this time." of fucking course it was that damn triangle. why did everything seem to always come back to that damn triangle...
"Do you like being out of control?"
Ford shivered and Stan could see the tent starting to form in his pants. "Yes..."
Stan hummed. "Yeah i bet you would. it's probably so exhausting being the person thats always got the plans and calling the shots. i bet its REALLY nice to just get all dumb and misty and just do what people tell ya, huh?"
"Yes..."
"Say 'Yes Stanley'." he ordered and Ford gave another full body shiver, the tent in his pants growing significantly at the order
"Yes Stanley..."
"Good Boy. Every time you're a good boy and do as you're told you say 'Yes Stanley' Understand?"
"Yes Stanley."
"Good. Now... Tell me about this Will-powder" heh "does this last until its done burning?"
"No, the person whose will is drained remains in a suggestible state unless commanded awake. the psychic link doesnt go both ways, you lose your willpower to the winner and it stays theirs unless freely given back. And even then the psychic siphon remains. the winner can always take the loser's will away again whenever they please."
"Does it... hurt?"
"No... feels... so good...."
Stanford's cock was practically straining against his pants now, and Stan could feel his own stir in sympathy.
He looked away, thumb tapping against the bed as he thought about what to do-...
"Ford when you said you... didn't love me like a brother- what DO you love me like?" He- he knew technically ford had already answered but-that was in the past that was...
that was before everything...
"I want you. Want you to-... to want me... I know its... its wrong its... its taboo... I never wanted anyone else. Not Cathy Crenshaw, not Fiddleford, not Bill... not really... i only ever wanted you and... and it scared me... Even when i hated you i only wanted you back..."
well...
shit...
He spent a bit of time thinking it over. And when the smoke stopped, and he opened a window and Ford remained sprawled out on his bed, half asleep and cock straining for freedom against his pants, Stan figured Ford got generally good information...
About the drug at least...
Fords hips gave a little unconcious twitch upward and... Stan had mercy on him and took one of his heavy hands, dropping it over the bulge and watched with minor fascination as his brother's deft fingers rubbed against the restricted erection but lacked the dexterity to free himself-
At least, not without permission....
"Just keep rubbing there, Stanford" Ford moaned and his hips gave an instinctual twitch into his palming hand.
"Yes Stanley..." it came out as another heaving moan, and... damn...
He could see why Ford wanted this- this kind of control was heady... And ford LIKED control. He just... also liked being out of control. He really liked it.
And... Stan wasn't sure what to do about it-
"One more question- How do you bring will back and take it away?"
"You just tell them to think for themselves again to give it back, but to take away again you need-" Ford moaned. "You establish a trigger for them to remember at once that you possess their willpower"
establish a trigger huh? Like a codeword or something?
Or maybe...
Stan looked over at the drawer he kept some of his bedside things in and felt around until he found some thick glass. A Cologne he had stolen from a french store that was maybe the fanciest cologne he'd ever palmed from a shopping rack. it was one of those ones with the fancy sculpted glass and it even had a little squeeze bottle to spray it!
He had decided to save it only for hot dates and possibly getting to pick strangers up, so he'd yet to use it.
Until now.
"Well lets figure out a trigger for later right now, eh?" he tilted ford's head so he was properly facing upward. "Eyes open, Ford."
"Yes Stanley."
Glazed over, dilated wide, but still that same umber brown that matched his own, Ford's eyes so barely opened, staring into nothing and clearly lost in some wonderful reverie that only existed in his own mind.
Stan tilted his head back and sprayed himself with the cologne, rubbing it in a little to make sure it would get all nice and mixed with his natural body scent.
"Sit up."
"Yes Stanley." as if being raised up by a wire Ford sat up properly, though his eyes remained staring perpetually forward and focused on nothing. Stan took him by the back of his head, took a moment to appreciate the coarse curls in between his fingers, and pulled Stanford in to press his face up against Stan's neck.
"Take a nice deep breath in. I know that smoke didn't smell all that good to you, so try this instead. that smell, of the cologne and me all at once? thats gonna be your trigger, alright? every time you smell this you're going to remember all at once that I've got your willpower. whenever you're awake you're gonna forget it, you're gonna think it's all... manmade stage stuff. Like those magicians that hypnotize the ladies in the dresses to pass the ring around them. you're gonna think you told me about how sexy you think people taking control of your mind was, and i'm providing this wierd but fun kink for you."
"When you're awake you know nothing that happens when you're like this is being done that you don't want to happen, but when you take a breathful of this, when you smell me and smell that cologne, you remember all that once that you gave your will to me. You remember that Stanley's the one that really calls the shots, even if you forget and you convince yourself that you're in control, you know deep down that he's got you on a hook..."
"And every time it'll feel just as good to know that as it does now." He grabbed Ford's hand and ground his palm against his crotch and Ford moaned out the next "Yes Stanley"
"You're such a good boy, Stanford..." he hummed, and let Ford breathe in the scent for a little longer.
But just a little longer because his own cock was getting to aching a bit from lack of attention.
he unbuttoned his jeans and his own dick let out a delightful throb when it was freed from restriction, and when he pulled ford's hand away, and his brother let out a faint whine, he chuckled.
But he thought he was maybe done with this whole thing... For all that this was an... interesting development, he didn't want a mindless thrall- he wanted ford.
"...When i wake you up, And i change your mind on something, or give you an order, you're going to have just a moment of feeling like this again, all nice and hazy and brainless, and will-less and it'll feel so so good, that even when it fades and you'll forget it happened, you'll feel so good agreeing with whatever i was saying or doing whatever i told you that you'll decide it was your idea to do it in the first place. Understand?"
"Yes Stanley."
"And every time you're a good boy and obey you'll say...?"
"Yes Stanley"
"Good Boy."
"Now- last instruction-" he properly undid ford's pants and watched his brother shake as his cock was freed from its constraints. it was turning fucking purple at the tip and some part of Stan wanted to feel the weight of it in his mouth...
Maybe later...
"When you wake up you'll be awake, but your brain will be so thoroughly consumed with lust that all that braniac Sixer thought won't come back until you cum until you can't cum any longer..."
"Like- you'll KNOW this is real, but it'll just feel like you were so lost in lust and the fact that you're living out hormonal dreams you had since your teen years is the only part that's really processing in your head."
"Understand?"
"Yes Stanley."
"Good Boy."
He ran a hand through Ford's hair, and watched him lean into him, peering at Stan with those big dilated eyes, trusting and open. Because he didn't really have any other choice.
Well- it was Ford's doing to make this whole thing happen- Stan could at least make it good for the both of them.
"Wake up now, Ford. Think for yourself again."
Ford blinked once, then twice. his brow furrowed, and his pupils restricted, but the hazy look in his eye didn't fade-
and then both hands came up to press against stan's; Ford not just tilting his head into the grip but practically nuzzling into it.
"Stan..." there was a pained sort of strain in Ford's voice, an almost terrified desparation...
"Stanley i- please-" Ford leaned in, and Stan pulled away from him a bit,just to see what would happen-
turned out what would happen was that that sci fi survivalist shit would kick in because Ford growled and threw himself forward, pushing stan back until he was straddling him.
"Dont you run away from me-" Ford growled, and-
okay yeah he was JUST starting to see the appeal of being in control he wasn't all too keen on getting rid of it now.
"Nah, you're going to let me take the reigns on this one, Poindexter." Stan began to get back up and sure enough Ford's conviction flickered near immediately-
and to be safe he added on- "You WANT me to call the shots on this one, Stanford."
and for a moment Ford's entire demeanor changed, his eyes hazing over entirely and staring into nothing as lids sank down to half mast and he robotically answered back-
"Yes Stanley" Before shaking it off quickly, and, as if he hadn't thought of anything else but for this to be the endgoal, ford went from straddling him, to throwing himself into stan's lap.
"Please-" he whimpered, bringing his hips as close as he could without actually touching Stan's cock with his own.
"Stan Please- i can't- i- i need- I need you..."
it was then that Stan took pity on his poor will-less brother. Stan chuckled and wrapped one hand around ford's sharp hip bone and pulled him as close as he could get, and with the other, he reached between them both and grabbed hold of their cocks, Ford's was leaking so much precum he didn't have to worry about lube.
"Good boy-" He cooed and Ford moaned, jerking his hips harshly into Stan's hand.
they were a couple of old men, they could probably only go a surprise round once, so when Ford moaned his name a few more times, and came so hard some of the drops splattered on the wall behind the both of them, Stan figured his brother would be tapping out quickly thereafter-
only for Ford to surprise him greatly when it was clear both that Stan was not spent himself, nor was he particularly sated.
a six fingered hand wrapping around his dick was one that only existed in his wildest horniest fantasies, but that face, both similar to his and so different, slowly going down- down- down, until that wet hotness of a mouth encoumpassed him, was so out of his imagination that he couldn't really believe it was happening.
Burying hands in that curly hair and thrusting into a willing, delighted mouth until cub dribbled out of his mouth was a fantasy that had never even been considered enough to be entertained. and yet there it was.
and by the time he was dragging ford up to give him the first proper kiss between them his brother was grinding a second erection onto his knee.
That one... he let ford stay like that. grinding against his knee like an animal, it let him watch his brother's face without splitting his attention anywhere.
the mad lustful joy on Ford's face defeated any leftover concern he might have had.
Ford's mind didn't clear until he came again, but by then he was so tired that when Stan tucked him into his bunk and whispered some instructions for tomorrow-
There had been nothing to do but hazily mumble out 'Yes Stanley' and let the feeling of being a good boy carry him into sleep.
and Stan...
Stan had some ideas.
After all, Ford had gotten himself and Stan into this, it was only fair that Stan make sure his brother got all the enjoyment he could possibly get out of it.
[ you don't have to have an answer to this BUT: do you think bucky/winter has typical DID that forms from childhood trauma, or would they fall under the kind of OSDD/unspecified dissociative disorder commonly seen in torturing/brainwashing victims? both? neither? i don't know very much about the latter and when i was writing bucky i definitely just went with "uhhh it's marvel i can do whatever. he can have super special adult brain damage DID if i want." KJSNDFKJN ]
tysm for this ask i absolutely love being able to discuss bucky & winter's psyche
i've got to say that i'm not as well versed with the latter type of OSDD as you mentioned, but it does fit how i view bucky's trauma. bucky doesn't like to go into it so few if any people know this, but the torture that he endured varied from different forms at different times. the mechanism that i think this mostly stems from is, like you mentioned, a kind of brain damage from the repeated use of the chair to 'reset' the soldier. this started in the 40s, and the science around what electrocution does to the brain just wasn't there (and if it was, would HYDRA have cared? i think not). so bucky's brain was getting that semi-regularly, and i think that combined with the other kinds of torture caused the split between himself and the soldier.
i headcanon that the majority of the time under HYDRA's control, and the entirety of the time under the moniker of the winter soldier, the soldier and bucky have little to no communication. and when the soldier does begin to remember fragments of their previous life as bucky, they very quickly get reprimanded and put in the chair to be 'reset' once more because of how noticeable it is. once the soldier begins to remember and they can begin to communicate with bucky internally, that's when the switch in their personality is evident to their handlers, and when they end up punished for it. it's only when the soldier is able to defect and go rogue that they can begin to deconstruct the walls between them and bucky and that bucky comes to front more often.
