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there :marseycheerup: should :marseynorm: be an option to put randomized site backgrounds

what i mean by this is there :marseycheerup: should :marseynorm: be an option to put multiple custom site backgrounds in this randomizer and everytime you go onsite one of those backgrounds is randomly chosen. so one second :marseygunnut: you have some wacky rainbow :marseybackstabsjw: shit while browsing, other times its a screenshot of a hate comment, and so on

@Turkeyvann do u agree :marseyyes:

8
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She's been ignoring messages and calls, her phone laid on the nightstand next to her bed, screen black. Sword hadn't answered Rocket's calls, nor Medkit's messages.

She couldn't build motivation to do anything.

She felt numb.

Work Text:

Sword was laid on her bed, her eyes welled with tears as she silently cried. Her room was dark, she hadn't gotten up since she woke up initially. It's been hours and she's only laid here and stared at her ceiling. She's been ignoring messages and calls, her phone laid on the nightstand next to her bed, screen black. Sword hadn't answered Rocket's calls, nor Medkit's messages. She couldn't build motivation to do anything. She felt numb. She wanted to do precisely what Medkit had told her not to. She wanted to put her blade to use. Sword sat up; her posture lazy as she glared at her sword. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, grabbing the improperly placed Sword and looking at it, seeing how it glinted even though there wasn't much light coming into her room.

Sword held her arm out, looking at her extended arm, then to her blade. She felt nauseous. Why was she breathing heavier? Suddenly, her door was swung open, she whipped her head to go look at the source. Medkit stood in front of the door in her room, staring at her hands. "What the frick do you think you're doing?" He hurriedly spat, immediately coming closer, but cautiously. "I don't know." Sword responded, voice sounding nearly broken, like she was going to cry all over again. Medkit didn't quite like the tone, his face softening as he let out a sigh. "Let's talk. Put your sword down." The doctor said, a demand rather than an offer. Sword picked it up well, setting her blade to the ground. "What's going on? You haven't been answering my messages." Medkit asked, sitting next to her on her bed, looking at her.

Their eyes didn't meet. Sword stared at the ground, eyes darting from the floor to her wrists, the latter being littered in scars. "I don't. Know." She said, quieter. Sword looked like she spent the day in her room, and her appearance proved so. Her hair was knotted, her eyes red and her movements delayed. Sword clenched her fists. Medkit stayed silent before standing up, piquing Sword's curiosity. "Get up." Sword gave a confused look, "…What?" Medkit tugged her by the wrist upward, making her stand. "Get up. You've been laying in bed all day being miserable for no reason. We're gonna get you cleaned up and fed. All that junk." Sword didn't respond, simply nodding as Medkit brought Sword to her own bathroom, letting her in as he knelt down in front of the tub. "Get undressed while I adjust the temperature." Medkit muttered, twisting the tubs knobs.

Sword stared at him for a second before doing as told, pulling her shirt up over her head, lower garments following after. She didn't focus too long on what was between her legs, as she knew it would only upset her more, so she kept her eyes on the tub, watching it fill as Medkit ever so slightly tilted the knobs in different directions. "I'm sorry." She spoke. Medkit shook his head, standing back up and drying his hands on the washcloth that hung on the shower's hooks. "There's nothing to apologize for. I forgave you when I walked in." He hummed before adding, "You might want to apologize to Rocket when we get you out of the house, though." Medkit chuckled, turning around. "Hop in." Sword did as such, sitting in the tub, staring at the faucet, watching the water slowly rise.

"I'll make a snack, if you don't mind me using your kitchen." Medkit offered, looking down at her. Sword only nodded, giving the go ahead. Medkit turned his gaze to the faucet, then to the bottle next to it. "The water good?" Sword thought for a second, "Yes, warm."

"Good, good." Medkit reached for the bottle, uncapping it, and pouring some in the tub. Sword stared at the water, watching as Medkit swished the water around, stirring up bubbles. Medkit let out a sigh, having to dry his hand off again, then turning the faucet off. "I'll leave you in the tub now, please actually wash yourself while I'm preparing food. Think of it like a task." Medkit said, knowing it was typically easier to get Sword to do things when she was assigned it as a task to do.

Sword nodded, letting Medkit leave the room. She brought her knees to her chest, staring down at the water before laying back, letting the water lie at her shoulders. Sword looked up at the light, enjoying the warmth of the water. She was embarrassed, but ultimately grateful to have someone like Medkit in her life. Sword got up after a little more laying, beginning to actually clean her hair, and her body, letting her mind drift as she did the mindless actions. Why did Medkit care so much about her? She really didn't believe she deserved it, even after how worried she made him get. Especially with how badly she was about to disappoint him had he not burst into her room. Sword felt horrible. She shouldn't have put her only two friends through so much just because she couldn't just get up.

But then, she thought, you'd think they'd get tired. Stop caring like the others did, like he did. Sword quickly changed her brain's pace, not enjoying the idea of thinking about anyone from the past. She washed out her hair, scrubbing and rinsing her body thoroughly. She bundled her hair together, ringing the water out of it and back into the tub. Sword reached down into the water, pulling out the plug to the drain, watching the water sink down into the hole. She left the drain in the tub, climbing out and grabbing the towel that rested on the hook on the hanger. Sword wrapped the towel around her body, going to the mirror to brush her hair through, turning to the door after seeing it crack open a bit. "I fetched you some new clothes while I was at it, come out when you're ready, snacks are done."

Sword smiled, "Thank you, Medkit." She took hold of the clothes after setting her hair brush down, watching the door shut soon after. Sword dried off her hair with the towel, redrying her shoulders after and setting the towel on the potty seat for now, she'd get back to it later. She analyzed the outfit Medkit had picked out for her, smiling seeing the decidedly feminine outfit. Euphoric. Sword slipped on the tank top, adjusting the hem for a second before taking hold of the skirt, pulling it on and looking in the mirror for a little bit. It was like Medkit had known she didn't like the simpleness of it alone, seeing as he had also given her a button-up cardigan to slip on. Sword smiled, taking the cardigan, and pushing her arms through the sleeves, slipping it over her shoulders, even though a side just slid back down.

Sword touched her hair up a little more before leaving the bathroom, shutting the door behind her as she walked up to her living room, seeing a tray with a few granola bars, two cups of what Sword presumed to be tea, and a cup of yogurt with a spoon sitting in it, presumably for Sword. She sat down next to him on the couch, just staring at the tray. Medkit glanced from the tray to her, "You can eat, Sword." She nearly immediately grabbed a granola bar, carefully tearing open the wrapper and taking a bite. She hadn't even gotten up to eat. Medkit quietly hummed, taking his cup of tea, and sipping at it. Sword held a hand over her mouth, letting out a muffled, "Thank you." Medkit only nodded, letting his cup leave his lips. "Of course, Sword." By the time their little teatime had finished up, Sword had practically cleared the tray.

Medkit collected the trash and dishes, getting up and walking into the kitchen, throwing the wrappers and Yogurt tub away, while he set the cups and spoon in the sink. He made his way back to the living room, helping Sword up from the couch. "Let's get you out, now." Medkit said, "Please." Sword simply responded, walking with Medkit to her front door, opening it. "You still have to apologize to Rocket." Sword giggled quietly, "I know…"

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All those words won't bring daddy back.

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Sword does it.

Work Text:

She looked down at the lifeless body of a familiar blue hue, her stomach twisting as she watched the similarly colored blood seep from the wound she had carved into the gut of the once close friend. Sword's grip on the handle trembled, adrenaline rushed through her veins, through her very core she felt incredibly exhilarated. She looked at the blue dripping from the tip of her blade, seeing the intricate splash the initial attack left on the shiny sharp edges of her sword. Sword had painted her chest and the armor atop it with the sickening hue. She had finally done what she'd threatened for years, even though he had tried to calm her down and help her.

Rocket never really understood the vulnerability his kindness gave him.

Even when her blade was plunged into his stomach, he still pleaded for her to help him. He was foolish. She felt her brain go numb; her body felt cold but tingly. Her senses suddenly came back, overhearing some chattering in the distance, making her flinch. What would happen if they found her like this? Drenched in her best friend's blood and watching him slowly die on the ground. She wasn't taking chances. Sword stared at her blade, tilting it slightly to catch glint from the sun in just the right way. She moved the sword in a position in which the point would face her, pressing into her own stomach, not cutting anything yet. She barely even moved a muscle when she heard someone gruffly call out from what sounded like a long distance behind her, "What the-!" But it was too late. Sword had already let her senses fall under a sleep like state, numb.

She pushed the blade into her own stomach, the sword cutting through her cloth, her skin, then her flesh. Sword felt like every muscle was burning, every sting and sharp pain in her stomach simply died down as she fell to her knees, then collapsing onto her side. Following the same fate as her friend, watching her blood pool next to his, her red and his blue coming together, almost blending into a purple, but still evading joining together completely, almost as if her blood was poison to the other's. She shut her eyes, preparing for the long night's sleep she'll get, ignoring the concerned and muffled yelling that attempted to call for help.

She didn't need help.

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Ok r-slur

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"Sword loves Rocket.

Even now, when Rocket is really mad at Sword, and is standing in front of the door and threatening to leave."

Work Text:

Sword loves Rocket.

Even when she sat cuddled up against her lover, her everything, her Rocket. She hugged him with nothing but love, affection, and adoration seeping through her very core. She didn't mind the arms that didn't embrace her back.

Even when the two of them were sitting on a hill, staring up at the sunset. She placed her hand atop of Rocket's, not feeling her mood dim even slightly when Rocket pulled his hand away. Sword loves watching the sunset with Rocket.

Sword loves Rocket.

Even when Rocket got mad at Sword, and called her stupid, annoying, or disgusting. Sword always cried, but for some reason, she always felt better when Rocket seemed to care, even if he told her to clean herself up in a less than kind way, him caring at all felt amazing. It made her feel amazing. She always finds herself clung to Rocket's side after their fights, feeling nothing but happy and joyful feeling the hesitant arm wrapped around her.

Even now, when Rocket is really mad at Sword, and is standing in front of the door and threatening to leave, Sword begs him to stay. She offers him everything appealing that she can think of. She offers to love him more, to talk to nobody but him, to be more intimate with him, or to stop talking so much. All of these are things Sword has done for him. None of them changed the anger he has now. He says nothing, nothing but a simple, "I'm done." Before he walks out the door, slamming it behind him.

That was loud. Sword's head feels empty, but it feels so full. She couldn't believe it. He's not leaving, right? This is just another time that he goes out and sits on the porch, and she'd come out to comfort him and say sorry. She opens the door, looking down at the porch hopefully, but… But he's not there. He's not there, why is he not there? Sword looks up, seeing him walk off into the dark, like he was never there at all, like they never had anything together. Like he never cared.

Before she knows it, she's crying. She's crying like somebody just died. Silent tears. She's calling for him, but he never turns back. Sword stares into the dark. She stares for a long, long time. Sword loves when it's dark outside. Sword loves the empty space in their bed. Sword loves a lot of things. Nothing can quite compare to what Sword loves the most, though.

Sword loves Rocket.

not long enough hold on

As much as she doesn't believe it, eventually those two would get worried.

Work Text:

Kitty scratches.

Zebra stripes.

It litters her body.

It litters her mind.

At this rate, she'll be hitting bones.

At this rate, she'll have lost it completely.

She doesn't really care, though.

There's no reason she should care in the first place.

Medkit's not here.

Rocket's not even awake, not at this time of night.

She could disappear in the night, and nobody would notice.

Her in complete comfort and solitude in the afterlife no longer dwelled with worries.

It sounds so appealing.

But, she couldn't.

As much as she doesn't believe it, eventually those two would get worried. Rocket would adventure into her house to find her like that, for God knows how long.

He'd blame himself.

Then he'd be next.

Sword can't have that.

Rocket's too good.

Medkit would call the police to check on her, only to get the confirming message that she's passed and is gone for good. He'd drown himself in his work.

Then he'd be next.

And Sword can't have that.

Not to Medkit.

Medkit means too much.

Medkit is her savior.

Medkit sacrificed everything to keep her safe.

She'll stick to stripes.

still not long enough

Sword felt sick looking in the mirror.

Really, really sick.

She looks so much more different than what her friends say.

She doesn't look like a girl at all.

She feels like a poorly hidden spy.

Sword feels...

Really. Really unattractive.

She couldn't understand why, though. She hears otherwise all the time. Medkit very often says that she's pretty, and very often praising and giving her affections. Rocket's always there for her when she's down, of course, telling her that she's the most girly-girlier-girliest-girl ever. He was funny. Sword really couldn't help herself from feeling this way, though. She didn't. She couldn't. Sword rarely bathed now, the unbearable sight between her legs plaguing her mind. Amongst other thoughts. She often just lay in bed, or on the floor, or just in her bathtub, letting her mind drift to places Medkit advised not to. Like why they haven't been intimate, or why when they are she doesn't get to get her pleasure. She thinks it's because she's ugly, and unwanted. Sword talks about her disgusting fantasies of the exact scenario all the time, the reality of how torturous it really was had swung her into a bit of a depression. Sword didn't want to think that was really why she was upset. Because of s*x? Really? She feels disgusting. She feels really gross.

Sword is having these exact train of thoughts as she lies in her bed, absolutely humiliated that her mental state was just because of her stupid disorder. Barely. She's probably just disgusting. She wouldn't even dare tell Medkit that's why, she would absolutely hate to guilt him into pleasuring her. She would feel disgusting. It wouldn't feel good if he was pressured to do it. Sword let out a shaky sigh, not even daring to taste the idea of garnering pleasure from another person. Not even Rocket. She would never betray Medkit like that, no matter how he treats her. Sword wouldn't do that. She's a good person. Sword wouldn't tell Medkit these thoughts. She's a good person. She's a good person. She's a good person. She's a good person. I'm a good person. I'm a good person. I'm a good person. I'm a good person.

Sword's a good person.

still not long enough

GOD banhammer is so fricking perfect, i've been staring at a picture of him in some way shape or form for probably like fifteen hours out of the last three days. he is just so very mwah i wanna bite his armor it looks so fricking cool bro. and his teeth, good LIRD his fricking teeth those chompers are driving me insane. i wanna put my hand in his mouth and i don't think i'd even be upset if he bit me for that, heck i want him to bite me. he could step on me too and pick me up and throw me down the stairs and i wouldn't even be mad. did i mention how fricking tall he is? mans is like 6 foot 11 inches, thats bonkers, he could punt me into the sun and i'd let him. his hands are probably huge as frick too. i want him to hold me but i'd settle for being manhandled into a jail cell. he probably patrols the cells on occasion since he's just built different and i'd stand in my 'pathetic homosexual loser' cage and give him a gay little wave as he walks past. blow him a kiss and all that. he might not even notice because he's blindfolded which would be saddening but hey maybe i'll get to feel his touch when he drags me off to be executed or whatever. does he even execute his prisoners at all? if he doesn't i guess i will just rot in that cell until he sees fit to release me. bummer. or perhaps i could seduce him into letting me work as an assistant/maid/etc for him instead. he seems like he'd get off on having someone to order around directly, and i wouldn't mind obeying his every command. anyways as much as i'd enjoy letting him order me around it would probably get boring eventually. he'd probably melt immediately if i gave off even a whiff of dominance. mans still listens to his mom for fricks sake, he'll

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ok

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