#Spaceboy and Rococo deserve each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilac-gold · 5 months

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hey so you know how captain spaceboy's name (obviously) has 'captain' in front of it? and how space ex-boyfriend doesn't? that's because he neglected and effectively abandoned his title of the captain whilst dating sweetheart and when refusing to leave his bed after their breakup. he still values the connection to sweetheart more than he does to his crew; he isn't the captain when he's ex-boyfriend, because he doesn't care about leading the crew. the only thing on his mind is sweetheart. like how when he becomes space (ex)husband, that too replaces the 'captain' and 'boy' parts. he's not a boy with sweetheart, he's a man; a suitor. and he's not a captain. he refuses to be, because he has to put her first, even when they've left each other. stranded on a mountain and slowly freezing to death, spaceboy doesn't care about the pirates, or his father, or his own identity. he cares about sweetheart separating from him again, and the heartache he felt as a result.

sweetheart's impact on him in canon is so huge but i don't think we as a fandom tend to truly understand that. he changes his name for her, has multiple identity crises, would've been ready to die if it hadn't been for omori & co's intervention. spaceboy had his faults just as sweetheart did, but he also had it rough with her. sweetheart expects a partner to give up everything for her and yet is unwilling to sacrifice the same. just look at "sweetheart is for sharing" and rococo's entire thing! she's not something 'girlfriend', something 'wife'. she's always duchess sweetheart. sweetheart is able to prioritise herself to the point where it becomes a problem. she doesn't care about spaceboy because she deserves the best, and she doesn't believe that's him. spaceboy sacrifices it all, and they always end up falling out. and he always ends up more depressed each time.

'captain' is more than just a position. it's spaceboy when he's secure and confident in himself. it's spaceboy when he has friends. it's spaceboy when he isn't destroying himself with a toxic relationship that's only going to hurt him.

his father, captain pinkbeard, knows that, and wants to keep things that way. i'm so glad spaceboy has a (somewhat) secure support structure, because boy does he need one.

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lilac-gold · 7 months

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Day 8- Omori AU Whumptober 2023

AI-less Whumptober Day 8- Electrocuted @ailesswhumptober

Fandom: OMORI Rating: Teen Word Count: 1643 Summary: Sweetheart is the goddess of love, and has been searching for a suitor for decades. When Sweetheart remains wholly unimpressed with a certain group of sisters' attempts to make her one, they decide to punish her for her rudeness. AO3 LINK

Sweetheart was the goddess of love. She embodied everything about it; its passion, its unpredictability, its strength. With just the snap of her fingers, she could make people fall in love forever. However, as time passed and she became surrounded by happy couples, Sweetheart began to wonder why she wasn’t pursued by besotted admirers too. She was beautiful, elegant and graceful while holding an air of dominance and flirtatiousness. And yet, not a single suitor attempted to court her, and it wasn’t long before Sweetheart became obsessed with finding a partner.

She passed from partner to partner easily, bewitching the humans below her. Sweetheart had no preference gender-wise, but she did have standards, and it was tricky to find someone even close to her magnificence. She spent years down on Earth in disguise, fruitlessly endeavouring to find her perfect match. Using her magic, she could make anyone fall in love with her and whisk them away to a world of immortality in the heavens– only, not a single human proved worthy.

Sweetheart mourned her torturous lack of love day and night. After four years or so, she had acquired a great many followers, each completely, hopelessly smitten with her, but Sweetheart held no interest in them. While amusing, they were hardly true contenders for her affection, and she enjoyed toying around with their devotion. A large part of love was about power, and Sweetheart held a great deal of it. Perhaps this was misuse of her gifts. Perhaps Sweetheart didn’t care.

Then, she reached a revelation. Why should she have to date mortals when there were plenty other gods living just fine above her?

Eventually, she settled on the god of art, Rococo. He wore extravagant clothes befitting of a partner she chose, objectively attractive, always a pretty picture despite his lack of self-care. His eyes were a piercing shade of gold that reminded her of ambrosia, his hair long and soft, a lovely mint green that complimented Sweetheart’s rose-coloured own nicely. He should have been perfect, quickly growing infatuated to her to almost the point of obsession, which was exactly what Sweetheart wanted. To Sweetheart, love was everything, all-encompassing devotion and admiration. Rococo shouldn’t want anything else. And yet, he remained fixated on his godly duties, his passion for art dangerously rivalling his affection for her. Sweetheart grew dissatisfied with him, betrayed and angry. She had a half mind to leave him in Tartarus, but she refrained. Instead, she left him.

Sweetheart didn’t bother removing the adoration spell she’d placed on him. He deserved to suffer for taking her for granted. Love was give and take, push and pull. He couldn’t constantly neglect her then whine when she saw other suitors. They’d pushed each other a little too hard, and Sweetheart let Rococo take the fall. Hmph. She’d never loved him anyway, she told herself with a huff.

She spent a while more searching until she found him. Spaceboy, god of astronomy. He wore a colourful cape and an eye patch befitting of the grand warrior he was, roguishly handsome even as he kept a distinct air of innocence and politeness about him. His eyes sparkled like the stars whenever they caught hers, his hair like cotton candy, sweet and soft. She’d let him fall in love with her on his own, which hadn’t taken long; Spaceboy trailed after her like a lost puppy, desperate for even the smallest scraps of affection. It was adorable, and she delightedly exchanged pet names with him as they walked through her perfect rose gardens, the two of them content and fulfilled. Their love was sugary, practically cloying in its saccharine nature. Unfortunately, just as strongly as they loved, they felt everything else. They were both stubborn, and angry, and everything built up gradually until the tension between them snapped. He left her before she could leave him, and Sweetheart was furious about it.

Spaceboy should have been everything she wanted, but he just had to ruin it all. She needed someone more… Compliant to love her. Someone less fierce, less fiery; more gentle, more malleable. Someone she could meld into the perfect suitor, someone who would live up to her every expectation just right.

Such a goal seemed impossible. Then, she met Hero, god of healing. He spent his days in long yet practical robes, working on healing and repairing what was broken. His eyes were dark, wide and expressive, his hair purple and fluffy. For all his name suggested, Hero was no fighter. He was soft-spoken and cautious, worried about making a mixtape or upsetting her upon first encountering her radiance. He wouldn’t argue with her, he’d be considerate, treating her with the respect she’d rightfully earned by that point. Hero would be the perfect partner, able to heal the cracks that had been spreading across her heart.

Then, he rejected her. Him! Rejecting her! It was preposterous, but Sweetheart knew how arduous and messy forced devotion could be from Rococo, so withheld from bewitching him. She shouldn’t have. Despite her ensuing efforts to win him over, Hero was insistent, and always managed to just evade her.

Sweetheart was still alone, miserably aligning the fates so the boring mortals could meet their soulmates. Rococo was a failure. Spaceboy had left her. Hero didn’t want her. Was it really so much to ask for someone to love her?

She breathed in, and breathed out. This was fine. She could break the cycle. She just had to find the perfect suitor. Better than Hero!

Who was better than Hero? Sweetheart pondered it for a moment, mind whirring away before it clicked. Of course! How could she have been so blind?!

The only one possibly good enough for her… Was Sweetheart herself.

Proud of her realisation, she set off to meet with three powerful goddesses; sisters, some of the most ancient around. After Humphrey, the oldest; Abbi, the wisest; and the Big Yellow Cat, the favourite, they were the first to come into existence. Molly, then Marina, then Medusa. Collectively, they controlled Earth and its components, able to change almost anything about it with as little as a nod. Molly caused their advancements in knowledge and technology, while also cursing them with idleness and indolence. Marina caused birth and death, bringing each new creature into the world while also tearing them brutally away from it. Medusa was the order and control in the world, what kept its systems ticking while also allowing destructive chaos to exist to maintain balance.

They could create, each not only a goddess, but a scientist, hungry for knowledge and success. They would certainly be capable of making replicas of her, and Sweetheart headed to their abode with excitement rushing through her veins. Soon, that wasn’t the only thing coursing through her.

Perhaps she oughtn’t have been so demanding that they obey her. Perhaps she shouldn’t have turned up her nose so impolitely at every offered result. Perhaps she should have thought of a way to repay them for their efforts first. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to anger three goddesses significantly more powerful than herself. Perhaps Sweetheart. Didn’t. Care.

She’d had enough. She deserved someone to love, someone who would love her back. She needed it like she needed the ambrosia that kept her alive, feeding off of devotion like a starved leech. She revelled in others’ praise and adoration, graciously bestowing her own in return. Love was Sweetheart’s everything. She had nothing left to lose.

Still, she could hardly claim that being electrocuted was a pleasant feeling. Because they’d found a way to harness the power of a storm, and she’d been restrained just as her pitiful clones had, and Sweetheart was soon trapped in a blazing storm. Love was supposed to be electrifying, but not quite like this.

She felt another hoarse scream tear from her throat as the volts shot through her, every nerve set alight. She felt the electricity vibrate within her, her skin far too hot as tears ran uncontrollably down her face. Sweetheart was supposed to be beautiful, perfect, but as she caught a glimpse of her face in the reflective glass walls around her, Sweetheart had never felt uglier.

It was everywhere, the unnatural rain drenching her skin and clothes doing nothing to stop its spread. Every one of her limbs was locked in white-hot agony, she was alone, and had managed to annoy the sisters so much that they’d chosen to use her as an experiment. Her muscles wailed, every one tense and shaking, a thousand tiny needles pricking at her skin. It was awful, agonising. Sweetheart was unloved, alone.

It wasn’t fair, she thought, a mixture of enraged and devastated. Things shouldn’t have had to come to this. Maybe she should have just stayed with Rococo, for as unhappy as they both were, at least their hearts weren’t as shattered as they were now. She’d stolen Spaceboy’s in a useless attempt to replace her broken own, only to find it equally as mutilated once they parted ways. She’d wanted Hero to fix her, expecting him to oblige with that charming smile of his, only for his stupid little siblings to get in the way as he rejected her. Deep, measured breaths, she reminded herself. It was hard to do when the air was choked out of her with every new bolt, but she kept up the rhythm to ground herself.

Nobody would be surprised, Sweetheart knew. She was famous amongst gods for her temper and stubbornness, unafraid to act impolitely and state her opinion. She was always going to end up in a situation like this someday. But she was strong, she could handle this, she’d find someone else to offer the broken shards of her heart to once she left.

After all, the sisters couldn’t keep this up forever.

…Could they?

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