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flickeringquip · 3 months ago

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(1) You can't help but wonder if you've gotten in over your head.

Pt. 2 of this post, feat. @thedolmainblog's Aiden. DIDN'T FUCK THE TAG UP THIS TIME.

gratuitous smut below the cut.

The blindfold is silky and soft as they slide it over your eyes, smoothing their thumbs across your cheeks as you take a shaky inhale. The darkness is all-encompassing, more so than you could have anticipated, and for a few tenuous moments you struggle not to be overwhelmed. Bound and blinded, this is more control than you've ever willingly given up before, and it's hard to ignore the whispers of fear that tighten in your chest.

"Breathe."

You exhale. Their voice is a welcome balm, giving your poor understimulated yet overwhelmed senses something to focus on beyond your uncertainty.

"Do you remember your safe word?"

"Avery."

"Good girl."

Aiden chuckles at your ensuing flush, and you huff at them, quietly grateful for the moment of playfulness as their hands move from your cheeks to your shoulders, sweeping down your sides just lightly enough to make you squirm a little, ticklish.

"The drug will take effect soon," Their hands settle on your hips, rubbing soft circles into your hips, "It's normal to feel hot, foggy, even a little dizzy, but let me know if you start feeling sick — the antidote is in my pocket. Understand?"

(1) You bob your head in a nod throughout their explanation — and startle when they pinch your hip, though not hard enough to even really sting.

This time.

"I want you to use your words when I tell you something, alright?"

For all that their voice is as pleasant as it always is, there is no questioning the command clear in their words.

"Yes."

"Yes. . ?"

"Yes Aiden, I understand."

"Keep that up, sweet girl," You hear them shift before their lips press against your jaw, smiling against your skin, "And you'll do just fine."

(1) Aiden, you find, is quite easy with the praise — a fact that's flustered you from the first, but is starting to really get to you right now.

Heat builds beneath your skin, your mind turning their approval around and around in your mind, something hot and tight twisting in your middle that has your thighs squeeing closer together.

Above you, Aiden laughs, the sound distinctly pleased as ther hands ghost featherlight atop your thighs.

"I want you to keep these spread nice and wide, pet, can you do that for me?"

"Yes," You'd been nodding before they'd even finished speaking, only just barely recalling what they'd said about using your words, "Ah, I mean, yes Aiden."

Even blind, you can almost feel the approval radiating off of them as they reward you with a proper kiss, leaving you more than a little short of breath by the time they pull away, lips trailing a blazing path down your throat—

"Ah!"

You jerk beneath them as they suck a bruising mark into your pulse, breath catching on a shuddery little noise as you feel them pull away.

The faint rustle of fabric is the only warning you get before silk is sliding around your neck, hyper-aware of every brush of their fingers against your throat. They tie it off in what feels like a bow, your pulse jumping beneath their touch as they admire their handiwork.

"It suits you — green does go so very well with pink."

(1) That they raise a hand to sweep their thumb across your cheek as they said that has you flushing all the rosier, knowing they weren't just talking about your hair.

Bound and blind, you only become more and more sensitive as they take their time with you, each moment just more time for the aphrodisiac to sink it's claws deeper inside of you.

Soon, even their featherlight touches are enough to have you whimpering, heat pulsing between your legs as you felt a familiar coil tighten in your middle. Their lips brush against your breast, fingers teasing along your thighs, so close yet so far from where you burn for more.

And then, after what feels like an eternity of faint, barely there grazes, their fingers swirl over your clit once, twice—

And then their touch is gone, and with it the climax you'd been so close to falling into.

The sudden denial takes you by surprise, a sharp cry tearing free as you struggle to comprehend what just happened. You strain against your bindings, disoriented and confused, still so caught up on the ever-growing blaze of pure need coursing through you.

"None of that now, darling," Aiden's voice only just pierces through the haze of your thoughts, aided by the feel of their palm running up and down your sides, the leather of their glove a balm to your frenzied senses, "Relax."

(1) And, despite the way the aphrodisiac has pure desire licking up your spine, despite how your denied pleasure only makes your need that much sharper, you obey.

You feel adrift in a veritable sea of sensation as you force your body to settle, trembling with the effort of staying still — and yet the thought of disobeying them does not even cross your mind.

How could it, when they felt like your only anchor, their presence all that kept you from drowning?

(That they were simultaneously responsible for your current predicament was ignored, second fiddle to the comfort and praise they provided.)

“Well done, Aster."

(1) You shudder, a sound perilously close to a whine catching in your throat — a sound that sharpens into a gasp as Aiden begins their teasing anew, beginning a cycle of delicious torment.

Your chest is still heaving, struggling to catch your breath against the sharp ache left behind by the denial, when you suddenly feel the bed shift and hear the soft whisper of Aiden's steps as they stroll away from the bed. It's perhaps a bit of a blessing that you're a little too far gone to panic, too distracted by feverish just to get anxious at being left like this.

(It probably helps that you know Blythe would never leave earshot with you in this state.)

It doesn't take them long at all to return, and you hear them drop a handle of things on the bed beside you as they drag a hand over your body, a line of heat following the path of their gloved palm. It lifts just before the dip between your thighs, and it's only when you slump back against the bed that you realize you'd arched up into their touch.

(1) You'd never been denied before — least of all while drugged — and you can't say you were prepared for the ravenous need that clouds your mind.

Even those thoughts scatter like light through a prism when you feel Aiden's hands beneath your thighs, spreading them a little wider as they settle comfortably between them, enjoying the way your legs quiver under their hands.

"How're we doing, pet? Having fun?" The question is coy, teasing as they ran their hands up your inner thighs, delighting in how you jolt as their thumbs brush against your dripping cunt — how even now you have the capacity to fluster as they spread your lips apart, the heat searing across your face rivalled only by the blaze winding tight in your middle, "You certainly look like you're having fun."

You open your mouth to reply — you're good, you remembered, you want to be good — only for your words to get stuck in your throat, replaced by a choked off mewl as they rub sudden, deliberate circles around your clit.

When they stop, you whine.

(1) You can feel them smirking down at you, even if you can't see it.

"What was that, Aster?" Their voice is sly, and you can feel the tips of their hair tickle against your skin as they lean forward towards you, "Were you saying something?"

And though you know a trap when you see one, what else can you do but fall into it?

"I— It's—"

Again you try, and again you fail.

The moment you start to speak, they resume their teasing — from rubbing soft circles around your clit to teasing fingers against your entrance, all of your attempts at speech crumble away the moment they start touching you. All you can think about is the need burning bright in your core, the way each teasing denial makes you that much more desperate for their touch.

The aphrodisiac has narrowed your world down to want and desire — and with every touch, Aiden narrows it further, down to pure, unrivalled need.

"Are you forgetting something, pet?" They click their tongue at you, tutting, something sly in their voice even as they sigh down at you, "And you were doing so well up until now. . ."

And even knowing they're playing with you does little to lessen the effect of their supposed disappointment, a plaintive noise tumbling free of you.

"And here I was, just about to reward you being such a good girl," They coo as you whimper, sweeping a thumb across your cheekbone - the gesture has no right to be as comforting as it is, considering how happily they'd led you into this little trap, "I suppose you'll just have to wait a little longer, hmm?"

(1) And wait you do.

As they roll you onto your stomach and discover a reaction you'll later wish they hadn't, no matter how the smack of their gloved palm against your ass has you mewling into their sheets, the line between pleasure and pain stretched gossamer thin as you fall deeper and deeper into your lust.

As they sink two fingers inside of you in the aftermath of your 'punishment'; There's something about the burn of pain that makes the pleasure all the sweeter, keening as your hips push back their fingers as they fuck you to the edge.

As they introduce you to something they strongly believe you're missing out on, all too eager to give you a practical demonstration as they tease a vibrator against your cunt and make a game of seeing just how quickly they can bring you to the edge, over and over again.

(1) You lose count of the number of times they bring you to the brink and leave you dangling there, time losing its meaning when all you can think about is the relief always hovering just out of reach, your entire world reduced to pleasure, need, and desperation.

Aiden's hands are cool against your face — damp from sweat and tears as you shake and sob through the effects of being denied once more — as they sweep their thumbs across your cheeks, lips brushing just beneath the edge of the blindfold.

It takes you far too long to realize they've removed their gloves.

"You've done so well, pet. So well. Are you ready for your reward?"

Their praise is warm honey down a sore throat, all that kept the sharp edge of need from becoming truly too much to bear — you don't notice the loosening of your blindfold until they're pulling it away, the dim light of their room all the brighter for how long you'd been blinded.

(1) You peer up at them, eyes wet and glassy, and it's fortunate they mean it this time because right now you're struggling to comprehend more than just their tone, nevermind being able to actually reply like they'd so deviously demanded earlier.

Aiden carasses your cheek and you rub against their palm like a trembling, touch-starved kitten.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing?" They croon, rewarding you with a kiss that has you melting beneath them despite the depths of your lust, mind too hazy to be anything but grateful for their affection, "Some pets get bratty and defiant when they're this needy, but not you, hmm? You're wired a little differently, aren't you?"

They drag their lips up to your ear, and you can feel their lips curve into a smile more sin than sincerity.

"If I told you I didn't want you to cum at all tonight, if keeping you all pent-up and desperate is what would please me the most," Their hands slide down your bust, your whole body jolting at the lightest pinch of their fingers, "You'd obey, wouldn't you, Aster? Even with all this need trapped inside of you, just begging to be released, you'd choose pleasing me over yourself."

And even though the thought has a perilous little cry tumbling past your lips, fresh tears blurring your vision at the thought of being made to stay like this even longer—

(1) You nod, because they're right.

You don't even hesitate.

Aiden groans in your ear before they pull back, eyes bright and cheeks flushed as they stare down at you with an undeniable hunger.

"I can't believe Blythe's been hoarding you all to himself all this time," They coo, rewarding you with another breathless kiss, "What a treat you are."

Their hands skate down your body, fingers dipping between your thighs with a single-minded purpose. Tension thrums through you, a bow strung too tightly and fit to snap as you try to brace yourself for another denial with an anxious whimper—

"You can relax, darling."

Aiden sighs the words down at you, sounding downright smitten — a tone at odds with the way they sink their fingers inside of you with a curl that makes your voice crack on a keen. Their fingers fuck into you at a pace that has you straining against your bonds, anxiety striking through you at how quickly your pleasure climbs. You would never be able to hold your own pleasure at bay, not now, not like this — but it didn't feel like they were about to stop, and the idea that you'd fail them this far in has a sob catching on your throat—

So caught up in your aroused anguish, you almost miss Aiden's words.

Almost.

"—Cum, Aster."

(1) And like that, your entire world fractures into white as you obey. You shake and squirm and scream as white-hot relief courses through you, intense enough to have yet more tears spilling down your face as you're finally, finally granted mercy.

It feels like absolution.

It feels like an eternity's past when last your senses begin to trickle back to you, a faint buzz to your senses that makes you wonder if you'd nearly passed out from the intensity. Aiden is there when you open your eyes again, a soothing smile on their face when you finally manage to open your eyes.

"That feels better, doesn't it?" Even the removal of their fingers has you quivering around them, beyond sensitive in the aftermath of such delayed gratification, "Don't worry, I know just one is hardly enough of a reward, what with how good you were for me."

You struggle to place their meaning, glassy eyes watching as they reach past you — your wrists are freed within moments, before Aiden slides out of bed with mild reluctance.

Which is confusing, considering what they'd said. What—?

Your head turned to watch as Aiden settles into the comfy armchair beside the bed, you aren't at all expecting the new hands — hot and rough and familiar — settling on your hips.

Blythe.

Your eyes meet — and you've seen the look currently on his face exactly once before.

Uh oh.

"Don't fret, love."

Black has swallowed much of the gold in his eyes as the full weight of his gaze settles on you — and it's only when the hot grind of his cock against your cunt has your whole body flinching with an overwhelmed mewl that you realize he's naked.

"I'll help you work the rest of that pesky drug out of your system in no time."

Oh God.

(1) When people had said drugs could kill you, you hadn't expect this would be the way you'd go.

#FINALLY #working 40hrs is such a creative drain but we DID IT #this whole fic i was just imagining the +++Aiden's Control that would've been popping up left right and centre #i thought about putting them in but frankly itd probably be every damn paragraph adjkwqoq #aster may start wary and skittish but its gg for her the moment that wall is even an inch lowered #asters whole world is based around what she can do for others #all thats different for older aster is shes reduced the number of people she revolves around #blythe wouldve tempered that a bit more of only cause hes constantly winning the acts of service competition between them but #shes the kind of sub thst would be SO damn vulnerable to aiden's brand of dom + manipulation #shes already so prone to self-sacrifice that placing their wants over her is SO easy #potential for Danger very high #but it sure is hot as hell #but at least she wont have an emotional breakdown when she realizes she in love with them #:^)#dol fanfic #flicker writes #aster the agent #aiden the magnate #like the briefest actual appearance of #blythe the fighter #degrees of lewdity #OH #personal hc that Blythe would lowkey treat an aphrodisiac like a toy #he doesnt need a drug to fuck aster until shes crying and incoherent tyvm????

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bleue-flora · 10 months ago

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Why I think c!Dream is Autistic - Part 3

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3]

Alright, you’re gonna want to probably go read part 1 and 2 first, promise they aren’t too long.

Done? Long time no see buddy. :) Good deal. Now finally, the last reason(s) I think Dream is autistic is because of how it fits narratively.

Who better to frame as the villain than someone who is already on the outside, who is already different, weird, a little off, not like everyone else, obsessive, abrasive, and already setting off subconscious red flags of not fitting the norm. There’s a quote that most have probably heard by Andrew Smith that says, “People fear what they don't understand and hate what they can't conquer.” And does that not say it all? Talk about history repeating itself, real history. This truth is the basis of many real wars. And if communicating and thinking differently weren’t enough to garner dislike, sucess and intelligence are another foundation of hate and as I said in part 1, while not true across the board, high IQ is one way they identify people with ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). So who better to frame as the villain than an autistic admin infamous for being one of the best Minecraft players.

Of course, I hear you ask - couldn’t you make the same argument for sociopaths/people with ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder) are they not also different than most people to garner inherent fear? The answer is: No, not really. Contrary to popular belief, people with ASPD are not the odd balls out but are more likely to be popular and well liked as they lie and manipulate others to get what they want. In other words, there is a more calculated persona/masking in both ASD and ASPD, but while ASD is just trying to fit in, people with ASPD often have an inherent entitlement to the things they want and are trying to gain power and stand above the crowd not in it. In addition, autistic people tend to be honest, to the point of inappropriate or rude because they are straight forward. In the dsmp, Dream’s default isn’t to lie in fact he tells a lot of truth before often being forced to change his answer [clip]. Unlike people with ASPD who lie because they enjoy the power it gives them and to get what they want.

There is of course empathy to be considered when comparing ASD and ASPD as perhaps the main difference between the two and I think there is a lot of evidence that Dream does have empathy. In fact, I think his moral compass is originally one of the strongest before the dsmp slowly wore away the edges. He returns items after wars, fixes creeper holes and destroyed property, helps people mine or gather materials, fights for the side of who was wronged first, constantly gives out food to feed people… etc. He does a lot of caring things he doesn’t have too. That give him no real advantage, but often even end up putting him in a sticky situation. I mean what better example do we need to prove he has empathy than him rebuilding Tubbo’s house [post]. There was no reason or manipulation or obligation to do that, he did it because he saw that Tubbo was upset. I mean I’ve said it before that we can’t truly prove whether someone does or doesn’t has empathy, but we can look at behavior and I’d argue that his less empathetic acts come much later on his arc and are not consistent across the board like they would be if he truly were a sociopath. Leaving us with the most obvious conclusion then that his logical mind that makes him look like he’s unempathetic and his masking must be because he’s autistic instead, which again aligns well with his high intelligence and obsessive development of skill.

Finally, and perhaps most notably, while a lot of times masking is associated with ADHD it is much more notable and important for an autistic person. Because we are not masking just to cover up our stimming or hyperactivity we are putting on a different face to blend in and be accepted and loved. We are shifting the very parts of ourselves to fit in a circle shaped hole when we’re squares. Which is a skill and habit I don’t find it hard to believe that Dream would use for his villain persona, especially since our (my) masks tend to change too based on environment, whether needing to fit into the family dynamic, student culture or professional world where the social rules change. Which is exactly what we see from Dream as his mask changes depending on who he’s with whether that be Tommy, a large audience, Wilbur, his friends, The Warden, Quackity, Badboyhalo, Techno… etc.

In other words, how fitting would it be if a character with the disorder infamous for masking had a literal mask. One that he literally had to take off to discover who he was all along. What better example of the dsmp main theme of seeing things from other peoples point of view to gain understanding, than the extreme case of that. What better picture of communication issues than a disorder infamous for social struggle. Like not only does it fit so very well with Dream’s character, not only does it make sense with the symbolism of his mask, and the narrative, but it fits the overall arching dsmp story too, because by being autistic Dream is kind of like the ultimate version of the theme and for him to be a main front runner of the story just truly drives the point home in a beautiful and important manner.

#Hope it makes sense and that my points came across like I said I’ve been pretty nervous about this but I feel pretty strongly on this #not as a head canon but as object fact because in so many ways it makes sense #dreblr #c!dream #dream smp #autistic c!dream #I don’t think it’s just me projecting but something that fit the story so very well… it makes a lot of his actions and the actions of other #finally make sense while also being a beautiful example of how we need to consider not just each others pov and motivations but ways of #thinking. too often he assume we get it and we don’t and the moment we start to hear eachother out and assume others have good intentions #the better and stronger our relationships can be…#dsmp #dsmpblr #no one does it like c!dream #did someone order an essay?#you did and I hope you read and it met your expectations:) <3 #autism #dsmp headcanon #and not to being real work into it but ccdream did say in an interview that he’s probably autistic and since he was a method actor it would #make all the more sense for his c to be as well… after all how can be create a character who thinks a different way?…#And if Dream is autistic damn what kinda of picture does that paint of the rest of the server… just saying… ;)

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