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#running on fumes rn
lunarmoves · 10 months
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for evermore
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summary: you laugh—loud and carefree—and they have never wished so desperately before to be human. if only to love you for the rest of their life.
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pairing: DCA sun/moon/eclipse x reader
mentions: gender neutral reader, possessive (obsessive) behavior, ruminations of a robot, dark thoughts ahead tbh (human mortality, fragility, death), oblivious reader if u squint, non-sexual intimacy, forehead kisses, mentions of blood and gore, moon is glitch'd, sun too tbh but its more subtle, sun's pov is like. sm lighter and then moon's is right out of an mcr song, unreliable narrator
a/n: this fic is inspired by @bamsara's iconic solar lunacy. sun&moon in this are very much deeply, irrevocably in love with u, but! when taken from the reader's pov, u can interpret that as you like! hope yall enjoy my silly little 4 am thoughts LMAO hope they make sense
word count: 2k
ao3 link
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One of the kids has a bit of a crush on you. 
It’s cute, really. Sun watches the way little Riley holds out a drawing to you—two stick figures holding hands together in a field of flowers colored lavender and cerulean. It’s clear that it’s supposed to be you and Riley, both of you happy as can be. You smile as you take the drawing, admiring the care Riley put into every stroke of their crayons. 
“It’s us!” Riley says proudly, tiny fingers gripping onto your arm that holds the paper. Bright eyes look up eagerly at you for your reaction. “Do you like it?” 
“I love it!” you reply with all the care and adoration you can muster into your voice. Your free hand reaches over to smooth down the hair on Riley’s head. “Oh, you’re so talented! Look how cute we are!” 
Riley beams, bright and happy, and Sun thinks it’s so wonderful that you’re able to get along well with the kids. He twirls a crayon around in his hand, idly spinning it across metal joints and silicon, then returns to doodling across the paper in front of him. Long limbs have pretzeled their way into sitting at one of the kid’s tables not too far from your own. 
“When I grow up,” Riley continues in a steadfast voice, “I’m gonna marry you. And we’ll get a biiiiig house with lotsa puppies! And kitties!” 
“Lotsa puppies and kitties, huh?” you ask as you set the drawing down on the table and pull Riley closer so you can set them on your lap. You pinch at their chubby little cheek. “You ready for that much responsibility, squirt?” 
Riley nods. Sun rests his chin on his palm, propped up on one of his legs. The hand holding his crayon continues to doodle. “Yeah! We’re gonna feed ‘em, and we’re gonna walk ‘em, and dress ‘em up!” 
You hum out a response, but by then Sun is lost in his thoughts. It’s cute, he tells himself again, gaze not really seeing what’s before him as he glances at you and Riley. Humans and their little dreams. Their bonds and their emotions. The freedom they hold within their grasps. Silly, silly humans. Silly, silly, silly.
Sun looks down at his drawing. You and him, standing in front of a little house. Free as can be to live under a bright blue sky with puffy, cotton-candy clouds. He wonders what that is like. To live with someone so closely. Being there when they wake up and when they fall asleep. Seeing them at their highs and their lows. He wonders if that is even feasible, for someone like him. The freedom he dreams about rests just beyond the tips of his artificial fingers. He tilts his head to the side and releases the tight grip he has on his crayon. 
Silly robot, he thinks to himself.
Then, he folds up the drawing and stuffs it into his pocket. 
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The pizzaplex, above all else, is a cold place. 
Sun knows its lights are too bright and its colors too jarring at times. It’s something he has grown used to—the only thing he has ever known, really. He is not exposed to much, with how limited his boundaries are and how restrictive the access he has to the internet is. You give him new things to ponder about. You blow away the coldness like it’s nothing. And he thinks the warmth you bring along with you is something he has perhaps always craved, deep inside. Him, modeled after the sun. Ironic, he thinks. 
You play around with the children as he tends to a checkout by the door. It’s quick work, it usually is, and he gives his regular old smile to the parents who pick up their kids and press kisses to their scrunched up little faces in greeting. 
What a concept—kissing, that is. An action done by humans to express some of their pesky little emotions. He waves away the parents and closes the door, white gaze falling on you as you laugh while you chase a few kids around. The daycare was what introduced him to all the idiosyncrasies humans have—it is the only form of contact he has with people. And it is the only way he really learns about certain things he wouldn’t have known about otherwise. 
He thinks back to Riley. He thinks about the rings he sees on humans’ fingers and the terms of endearment they call each other. He watches you spin around and lunge after another giggling kid who squeals and barely evades your grasp. You laugh—loud and carefree—then make eye contact with him for a split second. And Sun feels something strange in his chassis. Something that lights his insides on fire and makes his wires buzz in fervor. Maybe this is the warmth he’s meant to hold—that he is meant to be. His rays do a little spin. 
Then Sun does what he does best. He swoops in, snatching you up from the ground and yelling out something-or-other about kidnapping you for his very evil, very nefarious plans. All in a day’s work, at the daycare. You smile up at him—so small, so tiny in his hold—and he thinks he wouldn’t mind seeing it again and again and again. 
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Moon thinks about the stars often. 
He wonders what they look like, if they match the designs that dot his hat and pants. He thinks about you, standing under the night sky. Do you like the stars you see? Do you come to the daycare and compare the artificial ones plastered to the ceiling to the ones you experience every night? Moon doesn’t know if it is enough—if it will ever be enough.
He glides around the daycare on his cable, keeping a watchful eye on the slumbering kids below. You had been subjected to Riley’s grabby hands as they refused to go down without you by their side. So now you lay next to them, idly stroking their hair as they suckle on their thumb and snooze close to your chest. 
Trapped now, he’d told you when he saw Riley latched onto your leg earlier. Bedtime for you. And you simply gave him a defeated smile and caved to the whims of the child. 
Moon ponders about what that must be like—laying so close to another. Would you be as comfortable with him—with his body made of unyielding metal? Would you let him soothe you to sleep with the music box in his chest chiming out a gentle song that would waft through the air? Or maybe you would prefer another human. Hmm, another.
He remembers the kiss you had pressed to Riley’s forehead at their insistence and his fingers reach up to rub thoughtfully at his own. Pesky little emotions. His red gaze always finds itself trailing back to you, lingering on your form through the rest of naptime. And when the lights flick back on, he thinks that his time with you is always too short for him to bear. 
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It’s the middle of the night, long after you’ve gone home, and Moon stands in front of an arcade machine that’s turned off. He stares at his reflection in the dark screen, fuzzy red eyes lighting the space up in a hellish glow. One of his hands passes across his mouth smoothly—the sharp teeth that make up his grin. And he thinks back to the parents kissing their children on the cheeks. He thinks about all the ‘sweetheart’s, and the ‘baby’s, and the ‘love’s. He thinks about you. 
Moon wonders what it would be like to be human. 
To just—feel everything, all the time. To hear his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t have a heart—never will—but he wonders what it would be like to have one. He’d give you his heart without batting an eye, he thinks. Would you do the same for him?
He ruminates on what it would be like to hold your hand. To feel the plushness of your skin against the firmness of his metal. To look and see the difference between the two. Unnatural, he frowns. Disconnected. Two puzzle pieces that don’t fit together—not in the way he would like. He doesn’t belong to you and the thought strikes him hard enough to frazzle his wires. He imagines you with someone better suited that can live with you, grow old with you. Someone that is not him—not like him, broken and robotic as he is. 
And Moon wonders if this is what it feels like to die. To have the wires ripped from his body and turned into dust. Something nasty festers itself in his hardware, sears through him like a vicious piece of malware.
He stares down at his hands, fingers slim and painted blue. And he sees them doused in ruby red. He wonders what it is like to have it running through tiny, tiny veins. So fragile. He wonders what it is like to hold your skin between his fingers and feel it rip into shreds. His grin tightens and he shakes his head minutely. He looks back up at his reflection and a gleam of purple flashes across his pupils before he seizes it and locks it away.
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Eclipse stands in the middle of an empty daycare and watches as you enter through the large, castle doors. 
It’s you, you’re here. They missed you so much, you were gone for so long you were gone for so, so long. But you’re here, and you’re safe, and you’re you.
You freeze when you notice them—looking at you with a too wide smile and too sharp teeth. Their head tilts at you and before they can even process their actions, they’ve already taken several long strides up to your form. Because you’re here, with them, so close they can touch you.
You’re looking up at them with an expression they can’t quite decipher. But they know it must be adoration! It has to be, it must be, what else would it be? And they lean down and reach out two of their hands to grasp at your smaller shoulders. They can feel your heart beating through their fingers.
“I love you!” Eclipse chimes out, hunkered down over your smaller figure. Casting you in their deep, deep shadow. And then they curl down to press the gleaming metal of their grin against your forehead. Again and again and again. I love you I love you I love you so much it hurts what are you doing to us don’t you know this hurts? You smile (you’re smiling, right? You have to be!) at them—confused, sincere maybe—your fingers balled into fists. And Eclipse thinks that if they were to dig through their software, through lines and lines of code, they’d find a little version of you there. Infecting them—constantly there with your kindness and your adoration. Their grin twitches, their eyes upturn. “Marry me!”
You say nothing, only look up at them, but that’s okay! That’s okay, it’s okay it’s okay, right? They are bubbling and boiling alive with the fire that runs through their wires. And they have never wished so desperately before to be human. So they can be with you—outside, under the stars, under the sun the real sun—and hold you, and treasure you until the end of time until you both die.
They think about you and them, standing in front of a little house in a field of lavender and cerulean flowers. They think about waking up with you and going to sleep with you. They think about the softness of your skin and the brightness of your smile. The blood in your veins that can so easily spill over their fingers. 
And they know they are not human. They know you will grow old and you will inevitably move on—leaving them for a place they cannot reach. 
But still, they think, they will love you until the end of your life. And until the end of theirs.
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headedoutleft · 1 year
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I need to not have a job but also not have bills
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the amount of sheer joy i feel when someone rbs a post from me is not normal.
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modmad · 3 months
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planning to update TPoH on xmas day as a treat! granted it's a day later than usual schedule but I wasn't even sure it would update at all (given the whole family visiting situation)
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glyphes · 29 days
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The blood 🩸 and the weave 🔮
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ovaryacted · 4 months
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Save me from capitalism bro…I’m running on 2.5 hrs of sleep I CANT DEW THIS! I WASN’T PUT ON THIS EARTH TO WORK! I WAS PUT HERE TO FROLIC IN NATURE, EAT FRUITS, HAVE SEX, BE PRETTY, AND READ/WRITE SMUT. SAVE ME 💔.
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l3ominor · 11 days
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could I maybe get some hugs?
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handweavers · 2 years
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i always forget how embarrassing cringey etc 18 yr olds/uni freshmen behave in the classroom god bless taking a first year class full of kids fresh from high school is like. love u all but i'm nearly 25 years old and emotionally an octogenarian and i'm too tired for this right now please stop yelling
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bolithesenate · 1 month
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Hi bored, I'm Anon! (couldn't resist the dad joke)
JEDI MASTER ANO(O)N BONDARA??!
i couldn't resist either
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akkivee · 6 months
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that emu feels so foreboding lmao
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lumiereandcogsworth · 4 months
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AHHHH happy birthday Maurice !!! does he have any favorite birthday memories and/or what's his ideal way to spend his birthday :]
i think he’s always loved his birthday honestly. like not only does he just love celebrations and spending time with the people he loves, but he’s the baby of the family and he’s just used to being a bit extra spoiled lmao. and especially when he’s a teen and adult, he really really loves having a ball for his birthday and just having an awesome time. i wrote this little thing for his 19th last year 🥰💛
BUT!!! something i really would like to write, and probably would today if not for the fact that i am very mentally drained, is his 9th birthday. his sisters were 16 and 14 and therefore away at university (the university of paris). and he’s used to this by now, basically being an only child for most of the year, but renée and juliette have ALWAYS come home for his birthday. but this year they wrote to him saying they were just too busy with their studies and exams and wouldn’t be able to make it. but they’d see him for the winter holiday soon.
and this made him SO SAD. maurice definitely feels the most out of his siblings. like when things make him sad, it brings him waaayy down. but adam and belle and pépère maurice helped comfort him and promised that his birthday would still be nice. and the rest of his friends and family would be there. and he was like, yeah i guess :(
on his birthday, it was a lovely time. he was still bummed his sisters weren’t there but whatever :(( he was enjoying his friends’ company (mostly his best friend xavier) when suddenly a carriage pulled up. and out came renée and juliette. they managed to finish their work and make it home just in time!!! so they quickly ran into the castle and found where everyone was gathered. when maurice caught sight of them he was positively THRILLED. he jumped to his feet and raced across the room, slamming into them both and hugging them so tight. renée and juliette laughed and hugged their little brother, who was crying at this point, because he really really didn’t want to spend his birthday without them 🥺 the rest of the day was just wonderful. ren & jules didn’t leave reecy’s side for a moment, and he could not stop smiling :)))
and this sort of answers your second question, but yeah his ideal birthday is being with his family. they’re just everything to him. as long as they’re there, it’ll be a good one <3
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scorchedhearth · 2 years
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i find it super funny that kyle is included in the four corpsmen/four og lantern thing because he arrived way later than the first three. there's hal, a while later there guy for a blink and then a bit later john for sure and guy comes back and they run around the three of them for a long time before kyle even shows up. and when he shows up he's mostly on his own for a while. for hal, guy, and john, kyle is the recent addition to the fold, he doesn't share nearly as much history as the first 3 do. kyle, in a very typical fashion for his character might i add, should be the most isolated, hal guy and john grouped together by the closeness of getting the ring, with jessica, simon grouped together as getting it the latest, technically jo too but she doesn't interact with them much, and kyle smack dab in the middle
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titsthedamnseason · 8 months
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umm they wrote the leak so messy i’m pretty upset rn
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darubyprincx · 10 months
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honestly yeah writers are pretty pretentious. i'll say it. we be out here loftily proclaiming and advertising our stories out on soapboxes in the middle of the street but its those stories that make people think when theyre in dark places isnt it? so it cant be all for nothing. i'm a dramatic little bitch because i'm living in a world that doesn't have enough dramatic little bitches in it. and i make it my entire hobby and people just happen to enjoy it when i get up on my soapbox and start shouting
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deathxproof · 3 months
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seeing a post on my archive queue up not five minutes after I logged in to check something like. did I. did I trigger an alarm or something. hello.
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miwtual · 9 months
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my besties sending things for the ask game i prommy i see u i will get to u tomorrow my brain isnt working rn <3
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