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hinahaikyuu · 2 years ago

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adult sleepovers. Nekoma.

years after high school the team would still get together every other Friday for movies, candy, snuggles, and a good time. it’s been years, and yet here you are, the team still coming together like nothing ever changed, a moment where you can step back in time. something simpler. something more like home. until they try to figure out who on the team you had a crush on.

this is a little self indulgent piece, because I love Nekoma. I’ll see about turning this into a second part, maybe a third if anyone is interested. please leave a comment or reblog with the tags who you think it is or who you want it to be.

→ this is not beta read | i will die on this hill.

pt 2. here

all works owned by @hinahaikyuu— please do not plagiarize, copy or modify my works.

If there was one thing that never changed, it was your payday sleepovers. Not everyone would always be able to show up, but your door was always open into college and adulthood for these nights. Every payday Friday you and your old team would get together in your living room, with futons and pillows and blankets galore.

“Hey yn. I got the drinks you asked for and some ice.” Kuroo smiled, grabbing the plastic bags at his feet and stepping inside your apartment to set them on the counter. Kenma was already there, laying out the futons and fluffy blankets. You stood in the kitchen, grabbing a small bowl for the ice before putting the rest of the bag in the freezer. “Who all was coming tonight?”

“Yamamoto is gonna make it, and Inuoka. Yaku’s flight just landed an hour ago so he will be here soon. Lev was picking him up from the airport.” You smiled, tossing a wrapped pastry to Kenma on the couch.

This was a tradition dating back to high school. The 2012-2013 volleyball team would get together every other Friday to your parents house for a movie marathon. Eventually they turned into sleepovers and when you became adults it settled into your apartment. You didn’t mind though, it was a great way to keep the team together, they were all very respectful and helpful in your space after all.

“What’s this..?” Kuroo asked, looking at a box on the table. He had opened the lid to see a bunch of letters.

“Oh, those are all some old letters.” You spoke, biting off the end of Kenma’s pocky stick before standing again. “Back in school I would write out letters to myself and some to you guys for some therapy practice.”

Kuroo shuffled through the envelopes, “Ohh, this one was the one to Akaashi? You never did tell him about that crush on him did you..”

“Shut up. I told you it wasn’t Akaashi I had a crush on.” You took the envelope out of his hand and put it back in the box. “If you’re just looking for drama then you can leave the box alone.” Your ears perked at the knock on the door, opening it with excitement. Inuoka and Yamamoto had carpooled together, and you welcomed them in with big hugs.

“Yn!” Inuoka lifted you in his arms having wrapped his around your waist. Yamamoto made a face when you wrapped your legs around So’s waist as to not have them dangling and dragging. It was a habit from high school, whenever you were sad and he gave you a hug he would lift you up, eventually you started wrapping your legs around him and holding onto him tightly when the hugs no longer were sad hugs, but hugs of affection and endearment. Setting you down, you turned to Yamamoto, giving him a hug and a peck on his cheek.

“Hey now, where’s my kiss?” You let go of Yamamoto to see Yaku standing there with Lev in the doorway. Yaku was always confident, and always a good friend to you. You laughed, walking over to toss his arms around him in a hug as well before sharing a glance at the rest of the boys, before turning back to Yaku and giving him a little peck on his lips too. Pink dusted his cheekbones, while you chuckled at everyone's reaction.

“No fair! That’s favoritism!” Lev complained, leaning down and putting his head on top of yours. You chuckled, and patted his cheek.

“What makes him so special..” Yamamoto pouted, grabbing a bag of chips off the counter.

“It’s not like she won’t give you one if you ask.” Kenma chimed in, hearing Kuroo in agreement. Affection was how you showed your boys you loved them, it was your language of love.

“Well Yaku is special because he came to visit us all the way from Russia.” You pipped in, grabbing his suitcase and closing the door behind them. He took it back from you with a smile.

“I know where to go.” He walked off towards your bedroom, grabbing his other bag from the hallway. Lev took a drink off the counter and sat down on the fluffy floor with Inuoka and Yamamoto.

“He makes all that money but he still stays with you instead of getting a hotel?” Kuroo chimed in, sending you wiggling eyebrows as you rolled your eyes.

“It’s just for tonight. He couldn’t get in until the last minute so we just decided he would stay here for the sleepover, like all the rest of you. Don’t turn it into something its not.” You through his arm off of you, before stepping into your bedroom, after a moment walking back out with some more blankets and pillows from right off your bed. “He’s gonna take a quick shower then come join us. I’ll get dinner order-”

“Oh don’t worry about it!” Lev chimed in, “Yaku already ordered from our favorite restaurant back in school, should be here soon.”

“Wait what-?” You looked off confused, throwing the mass of fluff at your former captain and sending him into Yamamoto on the floor. “I’m the hostess, I’m supposed to get the big stuff here.”

“You made me get drinks.”

“I literally sent you the money via Venmo you geek.”

“You should let us spoil you once and a while too.” Lev spoke, standing in front of you.

“Honestly, yeah. You have like five friends who make bank compared to you.” Kuroo spoke in again, earning a smack from Kenma behind him on the sofa. It took Kuroo a moment to realize what he said, before looking back at you. ��I’m sorry, that’s not what I-”

“No.. no it’s fine. I know what you meant. It’s okay.” Your independence was something important to you, you wanted to be able to do what you do yourself. You didn’t like asking for help anymore, and you felt like you had no choice. The boys know of your ex, and how he broke you down into being nothing more than a clingy, broke, not the girl I fell in love with, partner. It was toxic, it was borderline abusive, and you still had to heal from that.

“so anyone, did anyone else know that yn has these love letters written to all of us from high school?” Kuroo changed the topic, he did know you well, he knew that this was a fun alternative and you didn’t take anything teasing from the boys to heart, you knew that better.

“oh my god, there not love letters!”

“Mine was.” Yaku teased from the doorway of the bathroom, towel around his head and completely dressed in an old t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. You rolled your eyes and sat on the couch, patting between your legs. Just like in high school he sat on the floor in front of you while you ran the towel through his hair. You did this for all of them, taking turns when they would shower off or just soak there head in the fountain.

“You got a love letter from her Yaku!?” Lev leaped, leaning on his knees. “I thought yn had a thing for Akaashi?” you dropped your hands.

“I did not have a thing for Akaashi!” Yaku reached behind him, grabbing your hands and putting them back on his head.

“You did say you liked a volleyball player back then, you were always so vague.” Inuoka smiled, handing you and Yaku both a drink from the counter. “Can I be next?”

“Sure.” you giggled, opening the can and taking a drink. “I remember what I said, and I never gave anymore hints. Why do you all think it was always Akaashi?”

“You were always smiling around him, and laughing and talking and always seemed like a good time. He’s tall and handsome and we thought you were into that.”

“Hold up.” You paused. “You noticed that with Akaashi, but not with someone ELSE on the team?”

“What do you mean?” Kenma turned, putting his phone down and looking at you skeptically with the rest of the team. “Yn, was your crush on someone on Nekoma?”

You smiled, and stood, and walked away. “If you can figure it out, then I’ll let you all read your letters.”

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haikyuu-sins · 3 years ago

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Hi, I do not speak English well, I apologize in advance. I love your blog and have been thinking about asking for a while now, there are a lot of ideas and I don't want to burden you too much. But I absolutely need the interaction between Rocinante and Law, not as a couple, but as father and son. Several scenes of their journey or ay, where Corazon survived, and their further future. Thanks in advance, you are awesome 😀

Please don’t apologize for your english when it is literally perfectly fine!! Even if it wasn’t you’re still perfectly fine! You already know more languages than I do and I commend you for that!

I found this prompt and I just thought it was PERFECT! “Don’t blame me! Blame the mime!” -but then I found THIS ONE “Person A really wants to go on a sleigh ride like they do in the movies so Person B ties a rope to a sled, grabs onto it, and runs as fast as they can across the yard to pull Person A around.” except Person A is Corazon and he’s the one that makes Law pull him around. (I’d be more than happy to do the other prompt though if anyone would want it!)

This also goes without saying, this piece is of a Young!Law and Corazon as a fatherly figure. I will -never- write anything about these two in a relationship.

Warning: Slight angst, that’s it. Just a lil sad!

****A True Laugh: Young!Law

“It’s snowing! Law look!” Corazon exclaimed like it was some sort of revelation.

“It’s been snowing.” Law sighed and rolled his eyes at the taller man. The two of them were staying at a small inn to try and stay warm. “There’s even still snow on the ground!” He hated it. He hated being cold and cooped up inside the inn, though he probably wouldn’t be going outside in the first place, no matter if it was warm or cold. The worried stares that were directed at his skin was enough to make him want to just shrivel up in the blankets.

Law stared out the small window. There would only be one other reason he’d want to go outside in the snow and that reason wasn’t there. When it would snow in Flevance, he’d go outside and pull Lami, his little sister on the sled around their front yard and tug the sled to the top of the hill to slide down.

His eyebrows furrowed together and his small fist clenched into a tight ball. She didn’t deserve what happened to her and he wished that she was here with him right now.

Corazon flung the door open and the cold hair hit Law in the face, shaking him out of his sadness for the moment. He heard Cora gasp with excitement and just for a second ran out of Law’s view and came back in with a sled. “It was right next to the door, Law!”

The small boy grimaced at the sight of it but before he was doing anything Corazon scooped him up. Law kicked and yelled to be put back down, but to no avail, there was nothing he could do but be loud and obnoxious about it.

Cora put him down and Law turned to yell at him, but instead of looking up as far as he normally had to, he was looking nearly eye-level at a grinning Corazon who was sitting on the sled like he was ready to be pulled.

“Go on, pull me!” he gestured to the piece of rope on the floor.

“What?! I can’t pull you! You’re way too heavy!” Law yelled out to him, looking at him like he was insane.

“You know, you’ve gotta start getting stronger at some point, so just start now!” his smile never faded.

Law mumbled and grumbled his way over to the rope and picked it up. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. How is a child going to pull a grown ass adult on a sled?! A child that has an incurable disease, no less. “You’re going to make me die an even earlier death!”

He tugged with all of his might and was only barely able to pull him along. It wasn’t until he heard laughing behind him when he stopped to stare back.

Corazon stood up and again, before Law had any say about what was going to happen, he was picked up and placed on the sled. “I didn’t think you would even get as far as you did!”

The young boy rolled his eyes and they widened, yelling out when Cora took off in the snow. His small hands gripped the sides of the sled as the man went faster around the yard and eventually taking him up to a hill. When they reached the top, Cora sat right behind Law and held onto him.

“Ready?” But he gave no time for Law to answer his question and he pushed off the ground with his hand and the two of them were on their way down. They both screamed, Rosinante was having fun, Law on the other hand was screaming out of terror at just how fast they were going. Nearly at the very bottom, the sled started to wobble. Law’s eyes grew wide and he was now yelling louder as they spun out of control, rolling into a pile of snow that was quickly growing around them. Law landed on Cora’s stomach and he could feel his laughs resonating through it. True laughs. Sure, he had heard Corazon laugh before, but this just felt so much more genuine. Law had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing as well. Or at least not letting the man see…but he did.

Law didn’t want to admit it, but this was the first time he’s had fun in a long time and he would never want to admit that it was this clown looking man who made him laugh.

This was the first time that Rosinante had heard Law laugh before and it made him smile. It made him remember just how much he wanted this boy to live-how much he deserved to live. He wanted him to be able to laugh like this again with others as a grown man. It warmed his heart to think about Law’s future. He couldn’t believe that he wanted nothing but happiness for this boy who had the guts to stab him.

#one piece #one piece scenarios #trafalgar law #donquixote rosinante #op headcanons #trafalgar law scenario #trafalgar law headcanons #law headcanons #trafalgar-law-headcanons #trafalgar law x reader

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in-tua-deep · 3 years ago

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Are you into my hero academia? What about an AU or crossover with tua?

UHHHH I am technically, like, peripherally? I watched some seasons of the show like two or three years ago and since then have simply absorbed all content through osmosis, reading fanfiction that has canon events, and my sister telling me about the arcs of her fav characters lmao

so a crossover hmmm

First of all you'd have to like, establish whether bnha is an alternate universe or just The Future If No Apocalypse with quirks being traced back to the descendants of the kids born without mothers

So let's say it's that - the glowing baby was the "first quirk" but the truth is people had powers before that. But - well, the Umbrella Academy was obviously a marketing gimmick to those in the future! There were even comics based on them

In the future, you might find some of those comics in museum exhibits dedicated to depictions of powers in the pre-quirk era, but they're just fun depictions and much less popular than, oh, DC or MCU comics which are also in the exhibits!

End of s2 doesn't happen I guess in this au?? No sparrow academy at least lmao. So, the Umbrella Academy stop the apocalypse (again) and the Commission threat is? Neutralized? Whatever. They decide to jump back to the future

Five warns them that time travel is a crapshoot, that he has no fucking idea when they'll land beyond some nebulous "future" because Five can at least control the direction if not exactly how long

Also, Five is like. Super tired. Incredibly tired. Homeboy still has a healing gut wound, time traveled twice, has been jumping all over the place, gotten even more injured, experienced paradox psychosis, and managed to undo time all in the space of like, two weeks. There actually more than that but we don't have time to get into how fucking tired Five is from his ~Month of Hell

Like genuinely this is like putting someone almost delirious from lack of sleep in the driver's seat of a car and expecting to get to your destination in one piece

But hey, the siblings are like "do it uwu" and Five has sacrificed everything for them already so why not get behind the wheel again

So Five jumps them, and of course something goes wrong because Five has pushed his powers like a great big rubber band and honestly it was only a matter of time before he lost his grip and it snapped back to hit him

So here be the umbrella academy: spilled out into the future like a cup of bad coffee.

Five probably isn't in too good of shape tbh, like they're hundreds of years in the future (but hey at least confirmation of no apocalypse am I right) in a world full of superpowers and Five is like. bleeding from his ears and nose probably idk

Let's handwave a little bit - Reginald made them all polyglots so the squad all speak varying levels of Japanese. Allison is the best at it, Five is second best but tends to use more archaic words bc he had missions in Japan back when he was with the commission, and Klaus is third best.

(Ben is the worst bc he decided when he was 16-and-dead that he didn't have to do anything regarding lessons and maintenance and hasn't given a shit since - but also he's dead so)

So you have a bunch of weird adults with a bleeding child in like, an alley who have appeared from nowhere

so of course heroes get involved

Anyway, the squad get taken in and Five is conscious but like, barely? And he's not going to let himself get separated from his siblings again fuck-you-officer and there is a lot of confusion

anyway detective tsukauchi ends up getting involved and ends up having to hear this batshit story and be like "...truth." which sends all kinds of people scrambling because fucking time travel? Like yeah, it's been theorized to be a possible quirk but there's no recorded cases of any sort of time travel that is for more than 24 hours let alone hundreds of years

"I'm an adult." Five says sourly, "I just happened to be returned to my 13 year old body when I time traveled one time."

"True." Tsukauchi says, feeling his soul leave his body, but like. absently. the way he does when he's called in at 2am after getting off of work at midnight.

"I'm 58." Five says.

"Lie." Tsukauchi says, because this is a headcanon hill I will die on.

"I'm probably 58, but it was hard to keep track. I'm at least 50." Five corrects.

"True." Tsukauchi sighs like these six (seven? they keep referring to another sibling and Klaus said 'ghost' like that was fine and it registered as true and Tsukauchi is not nearly paid enough for this) are not giving him a migraine by just existing

on the bright side there's like, probably protocols in place for individuals who are Legally Chronologically Adults but thanks to quirks are Not Physically Or Not Mentally Adults with tests to determine if the individual needs a guardian or not

though i'm gonna be honest idk if Five would pass the test bc he literally cannot take care of himself at all, has never paid taxes or understands how to exist legally, and also his emotional maturity is stunted as all hell. also like. we don't actually know how much being in his thirteen-year-old body affects his mental state but yeAH Five is vibing

anyway Tsukauchi probably phones a friend on this bullshit because Time Travel Child alone is probably enough for the Hero Commission to be like "find a way to control and use it or nuke it from orbit" and that's not even touching whatever the fuck Klaus is doing (shit gets real once 'dead men tell no tales' stops being true) let ALONE Allison's whole deal

on the bright side like, at least Vanya isn't getting side-eyed that much bc Big Destructive Quirks aren't exactly unknown? if vanya wanted to i guess quirk suppressors exist for that until extensive training on how to control a super powerful quirk happens

Tsukauchi in the group chat: Aizawa please I am literally begging you to take this bullshit on

Aizawa: in this economy? with my class?

RatGod: lol we'll take them ;3c

Aizawa: no

Anyway they probably end up having to live at UA while Five insists on trying to get them home still and everyone else is like "oh hey we used to be child soldiers as well! (:" and Aizawa is like "i hate everything about this and everything about all of you but also like nedzu is making me interact with you so :/"

nedzu is out here vibing like "lol i just don't want the hero commission to get their little paws on these time traveling fuckers, i think you should make then teaching assistants or something"

honestly the siblings are probably like. figuring out how to function in the bnha universe and getting like, legally registered and stuff while Five ferally refuses bc that's like saying he's giving up on getting them home and he can do this

Recovery girl tries to heal him a little when he arrives and he passes out for two weeks like, immediately bc homeboy is running on fumes and spite at this point

also i think on principle it would be REALLY FUNNY if the squad got to tag along with the class bc like. Five is thirteen and the class are all 15. this does not sound like a large age gap. anyone who has interacted with teenagers know that the class would squint at Five and be like "who is this sassy lost middle schooler."

I feel like when I was a sophomore we were still like "freshman... babie" even though we were literally only one year older.

i think the difference between the umbrella academy and school kids would be pretty funny like. objectively the bnha kids are lowkey child soldiers?? like they're 15 and fighting villains but like, there's all this red tape and laws and stuff but,,, deku still be breaking his limbs in a child fighting ring against equally superpowered children for like. entertainment and sponsorships sooo

but also like Five would be like "oh cool when is the experimentation class"

"the what"

"you know, when your powers are pushed real hard by putting you in different terrible situations while your dad and sibling stand by with clipboards writing down the exact voltage it takes before you can't use your powers anymore when being electrocuted"

"hound dog's office is right there. therapy is available to you at any time. i need you to know this."

all might calls Luther "my boy" like one (1) time and Luther just breaks down crying probably because he is starved for positive attention

klaus and midnight get along like a literal house on fire, aizawa tried his best to keep them apart for as long as possible but god damn

(klaus: your name is shimura nana??

all might: immediately dies choking on blood)

i feel it absolutely necessary to point out that aizawa, present mic, and midnight are all like, 30? and the umbrella academy are all between 29-early 30s? they are PEERS but like. the umbrella academy are more chaotic due to childhood trauma

the umbrella academy probably get offered to like. also train to be heroes. i mean,, there HAS to be some sort of track for people who change careers right?? you don't have to cement your future as a hero when you're 15 i'm sure there must be something and the squad already have experience if they want to go be legal heroes

diego probably does at least?? diego just vibes honestly. diego gets momo to make knives during a team exercise and they just go feral on everyone else and it ends with diego highfiving momo and someone getting way to close to being stabbed for comfort

Five might just be. legally enrolled as an Actual Student? But also i think it's funny to picture the entire squad just. all in the back of the classroom with luther trying to fit into a high school desk as they take notes on the laws of The Future surrounding heroics

every word out of the umbrella academy's mouths just make everyone more concerned on principal but like, five and klaus are probably the worst offenders. Klaus just says whatever comes to mind with no filter and Five doesn't get what people would consider to be abnormal anymore like

Five: yeah our dad bought us when we were babies and experimented on us throughout our childhood in order to make an elite team of child soldiers superheroes, it happens

Todoroki: ...have you heard of quirk marriages?

izuku probably has an aneurism bc he's is the only person who might recognize them from the comics because you know ya boy extensively researched the idea of heroics in pre-quirk eras (batman was an inspiration alright???) and might dredge up a memory of a less popular comic series

Five: I can time travel but it is very hard, which is why we are hundreds of years in the future. And why I look like a child.

Kaminari: so are you a kid or not?

Five, serenely: whatever is most convenient for me at any given moment

Mina: hell yeah game the system

they have a brief lesson on astronomy and Luther raises his hand like "ooh! i was isolated on the moon for four years and did SO MUCH research" and then just gets up and starts infodumping like way too much information on the moon

Izuku sitting there like "damn if quirks hadn't popped up we could have achieved so much in terms of space travel. please tell me more giant man who lived in pre-quirk era."

Vanya finds out about the quirkless and is like "oh mood that genuinely sounds like my childhood, being ordinary in a house full of extraordinary people, and then i found out that i did have powers but only much later in life after i had already been emotionally scarred by the experience"

deku: vanya we have so much in common

iida and uraraka: concerned noises

aizawa: hound dog. therapy with hound dog for all of you.

there's probably some conflict with like, the hero commission wanting to get their hands on the time travelers?? but probably especially five and klaus as a) time travel and b) ghosts (the hc def has bodies they would like to stay buried)

five has a pavlovian reaction to anything with 'commission' in the name and hates them on site, probably plays into his age in order to become a ward of UA or something to protect him from the commission a little bit.

(this makes nedzu Five's legal guardian. aizawa has his resignation papers all prepped in a drawer marked 'in case of emergency' but let's be real, if nedzu wants to take over the world aizawa should probably be on the rat-bear's side of things :/)

five: ah, i do recall the inhumane experimentation that we were subjected to

nedzu, who was experimented on: haha same hat! want me to dig up the location of reginald hargreeves's remains so you can spit on them?

klaus: nah no worries we dumped them out in the courtyard unceremoniously like, a while back. how long ago varies for each of us because of time travel!

luther: you said hound dog's office was down the hall and to the right?

on the bright side, Luther probably feels like. way less self conscious about his body, partially bc of his fighting and all that in the 60s but also bc !! now he genuinely doesn't feel like a freak. no one even gives him a second glance. one of the teachers looks like a slab of cement with a face. gang orca looks Like That. there is literally a student with an entire bird head and goth aesthetic. Luther does not stick out at all

allison and shinso bond over having "villainous" voice-based quirks

allison and shinso having worn muzzles at some point in their youth as punishment 🤝

aizawa probably helps train vanya as well with the whole, being able to erase a world ending quirk safely thing he's got going on which makes for a very nice safety net

i don't think vanya would want to be a hero at the end of things though. maybe the assistant teacher in the music class or something?? all vanya wants is to be able to not end the world

i feel like as time goes by, five brings up trying to get home less and less. part of that is because like,,, genuinely what do they have to go back to?? Allison has Claire, but like. I'm 100% sure the first thing she did in the future was try track down Claire's records and found out Claire was like. fine. became an adult, had a family, probably became the ancestor of the first "quirked" kids who officially popped up after light baby. had a good life, died at an old age etc. etc.

they start settling into the bnha world with like, "we can always hop aboard the five express into where the fuck ever" as a plan Z if things go completely pear shaped (again)

i'mma be real, five himself doesn't give a fuck as long as there is a) no apocalypse and b) his family is alive. Like that's it. His bar is so incredibly low and yet his life keeps fucking trying to limbo under it

i just think it would be funny to have like, Five trying to get along with his "peers" and make friends while the siblings do the same but like, in the staff room

also think it would be funny for five to just walk into the staff room and get coffee occasionally.

a teacher: why is a student in here -

Five, sipping coffee: i'm an adult

nedzu like "what kind of guardian would i be if i didn't teach my new son all the tunnels around ua so he can pop out wherever"

five like "hey new dad can i put stashes of supplies all around ua of weapons, money, food, and other assorted things that might be useful if one needed to fight or make a run for it" and nedzu is like "haha just put your list of what supplies you want in your go bags on my desk and i'll critique it later!"

anyway a bnha/tua crossover would be incredibly chaotic but probably very funny

#long post #far tua long #tua bnha crossover #what kind of disaster is this #there are so many characters in bnha to even consider #there is no more apocalypse so five either chills the fuck out or his paranoia ramps up to an eleven #or both!#five teleporting into nedzu's office like: hey i wrote a 52 page potential contingency plan for if x happens #and nedzu is like 'wonderful!' and gives it back to five the next day with corrections and critiques in red ink #klaus ben and ghost!nana get along like a house on fire even if she keeps telling klaus that he's too skinny #ben: klaus is an absolute fucking idiot with zero braincells #nana nodding sagely while looking at all might: ah yes i know the exact type #diego and snipe become absolute bros like ride or die because why not #luther gets positive reinforcement and goes to therapy #also thirteen listens patiently to luther infodumping about space because i think that would be nice #five is either like 'i'm only thirteen uwu' or 'i'm fifty eight' and there is nothing in between - only what is most convenient #i feel like kaminari and mina vibe with five's brand of chaos #iida doesn't know whether to murder five for being a gremlin and disobeying so many rules or to be respectful bc five is technically old #aizawa is SO TIRED y'all #aizawa thinks vanya is going to be the good hargreeves but PSYCHE all the hargreeves are equally chaotic in different ways #five calls nedzu 'dad' for the sole reason that it makes every teacher and/or hero in earshot cringe in automatic fear #klaus also calls nedzu dad because he just thinks it's funny #five and nedzu have similar coping mechanisms so they vibe but nedzu also vibes with klaus's sense of chaotic humor #five gets talked into healthier coping mechanisms by way of 'keeping his cover' or 'preventing the hc from getting their hands on you'#aka five is not allowed to drink alcohol #five HAS gone to midnight and been like 'hey teach knock me the fuck out my brain is working overdrive and i need to not be awake anymore'

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heniareth · 2 years ago

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Oh Astala LOVES swimming!! And general roughhousing in the water. And looking for seashells and other goods (“Look, Ma, we found treasure!”). Pretending to be a pirate. Finding crabs and cool rocks. I am now picturing Adaia, with some help, ferrying two very sleepy kids home after they’ve spent literally all afternoon outside between the sand and waves.

You know, a washerwoman would be a good cover for Adaia. She’s got a reason to get to (clean) water, a large basket or some other container, and clothes to cover the smuggled goods. I’ve never thought about a cover for her, but this one would fit, I think.

I am also now imagining all of the people in the Alienage who work washing clothes taking a long train of kids outside. The kids get to play somewhere that's not the Aluenage, potentially learn how to swim which is important, the older kids watch the younger and the adults work and are within shouting distance should anything happen

Add that to the werewolf bite!! XD XD Sharign ideas is good. Also, 3/3 deaths on the Joining 😬😬😬 Goes to show the deadliness of the whole affair. It would be kinda funny if an award popped up over Duncan’s head videogame style. “Congratulations! You have acquired 0 new Wardens!” XD XD XD XD The look on Duncan’s face would be priceless

Also... Novhen does have a point. When does a scout have to turn around? But, point is, he has to turn around at some point, and from what you’re saying it doesn’t sound like Novhen was doing the reasonable thing and keeping at least within shouting distance of the party in case something happened. Like, what if they had bitten you, Novhen? What if you’d died???? It’s like you said, a dead scout is good to no one, and Astala... I don’t know what Astala would do if Novhen died, there or otherwise. I think it’d break her a bit. Maybe she’d just go numb for a while

Novhen: The way you act, you'd think I couldn't be allowed to step ten feet away from the party before I had to report back!

Astala: Yes! 10 feet sounds fucking good actually, thank you! You know what? I’m feeling generous. You get 20 feet until you stop throwing yourself into the mouth of every wolf you come across!

Also, yes!!!! Novhen is part of the Alienage!!! Adaia taught them these skills so they could defend themselves as well, not only others!! I am wondering if he gets injured at some point before the whole archdemon thing. Would seeing the reactions of the people around him hammer home that he should please take a bit better care of himself? Ooooor if he might listen when Astala tells him to stop after Broken Circle, there may be no need for all of that. I imagine a change would be gradual and there’d be some back and forth to work out the finer details (because scouting one room at a time just doesn’t make sense). And there’s be some ups and downs depending on how Novhen’s doing. But I think ever since Adaia did die, Astala would’ve been keeping an eye on Novhen. As much as you can while working two jobs (which is to say, she probably did keep an eye on him for a time and then life swept her away and now they were falling back into that old dynamic)

They could find information about who killed Adaia at the arl of Denerim’s estate. There’ve got to be ledgers regarding prisoners, both past and present. Howe might even have been studying them to see if there are any of Arl Urien Kendells’ men and/or prisoners he could use. Or some of them could still be working there at the estate O.O Or Leliana might be able to give them a description and names. Really, there are possibilities for them to get a little revenge. I think it’d be good for them

Alistair’s West Hill accent vs. the Tabrises’ Denerim Alienage accent: FIGHT!! XD XD XD They’ll be bickering about the pronounciation of things like “water” and their most beloved/most used slang words. Ilanlas will be standing in the middle trying to figure out which is the Right Way To Say Things. In comes Pavle with the weird Circle accent. Ilanlas will have to take sides soon or end up perpetually confused XD XD XD Also, I like a Brooklyn accent for the Alienage ^^ It fits. Sera I think might be emulating the accent of the “little people” (humans) in Denerim. I think in DAO there are NPCs that get kinda close in her direction. Daveth, maybe? And Daveth has been a cutpurse for at least a decade in Denerim.

Also Ilanlas wouldn’t out-right say that he considers city elves culturally assimilated. He’s brash and a bit of an ass, but he’s not stupid. He knows it won’t be taken well. But, he’d definitely think it, and at some point Novhen would catch on on account of expressions and things implied in what Ilanlas is saying. Thank goodness, this is not a hill Ilanlas is willing to die on. After all, poor city elves. They’ve already lost enough by not knowing the way of the People (but he wouldn’t say that either. Just think it). Unless Novhen somehow insults the Dalish in return. In that case, Ilanlas is snapping back and the situation can escalate from there. Astala, we need some peacekeeping over here

Also, Ilanlas has seen shem nobles by now. He’s taking great offense that Novhen would consider him even remotely similar to them XD XD XD Yes, he’s proud, but he has every right to it!

I am now also imagining Novhen, upon meeting Andras, going all O.O Listen, Stala, there’s no root word in Fereldan for Andraste even though Andraste was supposed to be Alamarri!! And right here we've a phonetically similar word!! And it’s an elven name!! One second, Mr. Andras, we can talk about the archdemon in a bit. Stala, did you hear that?

Also, Andruil’enaste O.O I’ve never considered that, but it makes so much sense!! Ilanlas has heard a bit of Dalish and is walking over. Oh, your prophetess an elf? With the name Andruil’enaste? Take that, Chantry! But only, if she wasn’t hearing the Maker. No way an elf would be hearing the Maker. It had to be somebody else, like Elgar’nan! Or maybe she just acted like she was hearing the Maker to get the shems’ support. And she freed the slaves in Tevinter! Sounds elven to him

(Also hi Kiki ^^ And I had no idea Andraste was in the PHB O.O)

And for as much as Astala likes the Inquisitor (probably. She likes a lot of people) and as much as the end of the world sounds bad, family is priority. She’s done her stuff. The Inquisitor is getting gently but firmly escorted out if she has to. (Also Leliana stop snitching on my brother??? Thanks) And then they can mull this one over together. The end of the world is still bad, and if it’s coming, she’d like to be prepared.

As far as the kids go... DA:4 takes place around 9:51. Virel (ex Crow recruit), Perinella (ex Crow recruit, mage) and Carlo (Antivan street kid) were adopted in the late 9:30s at around 7 to 10 years of age. They would be in their early 20s/very late teens during DA:4. Life has probably made them very cautious, very stick-together. They could have developed an interest in the Cult. Especially Virel, who’s big on protecting his family and on fending by himself against the world. I think he would be taken with Novhen’s lessons (and they might even find each other to be very similar; wonder what kind fo reaction that’d get from Novhen. For context, Zevran freed a cell of Crow recruits and arranged for them to be transported somewhere safe. Virel hid and stayed behind because Perinella was still with the Crows, and didn’t listen when Zevran insisted he stay put and let him take care of that. He was super scared of Zevran at first bc Zevran was a full-fledged Crow once, but lived in the same house with him for months because he didn’t trust Zevran to actually do something about Perinella without him around to enforce it). But Virel is also very cautious and very, very distrustful. He might go to check Solas’ agents out for himself, but I don’t see him signing up in a bout of youthful enthusiasm or anything.

Perinella is much more concerned with whatever Morrigan has to teach her about the old gods and weird magic. Rebellion is not her thing and bringing down the Veil... would scare her more than she cares to admit. Carlo is a rogue, the most ghost-like variant of a rogue (I think he’d love Novhen, and the Vir’Banalras). He’s a very observant, but also very shy kid. If Virel doesn’t go to check the agents of Fen’Harel out, he will, but his version of checking out is listening in on a meeting or sitting in a shadowed corner, not saying anything. And he’s very trusting. He’d want to talk what he’s seen and heard through with an adult. So, in general, unless something drastic happens, I think these kids will be safe.

Rinona, Astolfo and Eidela are the three youngest, and they’d have been born in the early half of the 9:40s I think (depends on when our guys find the cure to the Taint). Which makes them not even teens in 9:51. Yeah, they’re not going anywhere. There might be a “But I think the Dread Wolf isn’t bad. Right uncle?”, especially from Rinona, who likes to push boundaries, but not much more. I’m assuming Kieran would have his own opinions on the matter, right?

Onwards to the Deep Roads: having Morrigan there would take a huge weight off Astala’s mind. Mages are just... really useful. And Morrigan’s right, a golem doesn’t make up for it. They have other great qualities. No hard feelings, Shale. Also, re. Ilanlas: Novhen is arguing against him joining the expedition? Ilanlas’ pride is hurt. Now he wants to go. Let us pray that common sense prevails. I don’t think Sulri would be too excited to go either (she was sent into the Deep Roads without weapons or armor before Duncan found her), but it’s either that or her murderous little bastard of a brother. She prefers the genlocks. Would like to turn Bhelen into one, in fact. How would everybody else feel about kidnapping him and bringing him along?

Technically, what Astala does is feigning infighting within the Wardens in her canon. She tells Alistair to act like she was going behind his back to talk to Bhelen, while he talks to Harrowmont (the man is smart, and Zevran is part of his team. For moral and acting support). So far, so good. What makes Bhelen really nervous is that Astala returns from the Deep Roads pretty... indisposed. Perfect opportunity for Alistair to put Harrowmont on the throne. Or, Ancestors preserve him, Sulri. Better wipe them all out.

Also, yes. Alistair, Ilanlas and Zevran are going to have A Time during those two months. Are they coming back? When are they coming back? How many are coming back? Alistair is sweating bullets under the pressure from either ruler to just choose (“It’s been almost two months, Warden. We can’t wait forever.”) and getting a taste of politics and being responsible and he’d probably hate it. Ilanlas is sulking because he didn’t get to go, pacing the halls because what if this was his chance to find Tamlen and he’s messing it up, and having the worst time because this is a closed space and he’s used to being able to just. Roam. He’s probably run up and down Orzammar for long enough to leave a visible trail by the time the party returns. And Zevran. This is definitely before Zevran is anywhere near admitting or being conscious of having any kind of feelings for Astala. Oh they would drive each other up the wall! It’s good Morrigan isn’t there. Poor Wynne and Leliana. Sten might be a welcome distraction for Ilanlas though. I think he’d make a good sparring partner, and sparring is about the one thing that might ease Ilanlas’ restlessness at that point. He hates feeling useless soooooooooo much.

I actually could see Khêd asking Zevran to keep an eye on Rica for him, now that we’re on it. And oh boy oh boy, Radka is having a hell of an introduction to the group here O.O What would Pavle be up to?

It’s good to hear that Novhen’s not getting black out drunk. That’d be worrying. It’s less good to see that there’s... not really much to be done about the overstimulation and the constant presence of darkspawn at the edge of his consciousness. Astala will have to stay itching to do something and... not find anything. At least Morrigan’s there. Astala will do her best so nothing bad happens to her, because that’s about the last thing Novhen, the party, and Morrigan herself needs.

Not being almost assassinated is actually very good for Astala. Not only bc it spares her a near death experience, but also because I have her hit a very low point after Orzammar. Everything seems senseless. At one point she doesn’t leave her tent for a few days and just lies there, doesn’t even sleep, just pendles between wondering what’s wrong with her and remembering how Cyrion acted after Adaia disappeared, and between getting sucked in by the absolute pointlessness of it all. Obviously, she’s saving the world from the Blight and that has worth in and of itself. But she’s so tired. And this will never stop. She’ll be a warden forever, dedicate her life to darkspawn, Blight and rot, and then she’ll die a cold, lonely death in the Deep Roads. Not being almost assassinated would make the low point arguably higher. Still, she’d be really quiet after Orzammar. Things that used to excite her just don’t do the trick anymore. She might confess to Novhen that she’s scared and that she wants out and that she doesn’t know how to keep going, but she’s up and moving, at least. Maybe sluggishly, for a few weeks, but moving nonetheless.

I always thought Alistair was off to Weisshaupt for Yet Another Report during Awakening, but hunting down leftover darkspawn makes a ton of sense. Somebody’s gotta finish the archdemon’s troops off. Also, having a mage present for the Joining makes sense. Caron is part of the team now! :D Hopefully he’s nice

Re. the battle of Amaranthine: “Like I didn’t have anything better to do today,” Khêd says, standing up with a groan. “Lying in the sun is overrated anyways. You get tanned just as well while covered in darkspawn blood.” I think he very much prefers meeting the darkspawn on the field (read: in the city of Amaranthine; cities are the closest he gets to caves these days) rather than being trapped in a fortress and withstanding a siege, though. He doesn’t like feeling trapped.

And Ilanlas is giving Pavle a dead glare. He wants a what? A participation trophy? Is avoiding sleeping in poison ivy not reward enough? Has Pavle no appreciation for developing new skills? Fine, fine, yes, the badges will do, thank you, but Creators, the Circles do stifle any natural curiosity and desire for independency and self-sufficiency you might have. Ilanlas is very relieved he doesn’t have to pull out some form of recognition out of nowhere. Pavle tries to explain the concepts of diploma. Ilanlas suggests carving marks into his staff or maybe getting a conmemorative tattoo, but those things don’t really seem warranted for learning what a viper is and why you shouldn’t touch it. And I think both Pavle and Radka would prefer the badges XD XD XD

Also, oh boy, Radka; wearing the Carta Thug face for so long she doesn’t know what, if anything, lies underneath it. Khêd’s clapping her on the back in sympathy. Maybe that’s just who they are now. Maybe in ten years they’ll be somebody else. If they live to see that day, Khêd’s never fancied himself an optimist.

Twins AU (Round 2)

Since our original post exchange got a tad bit long, @bumblerhizal I’m starting a new one here ^^ First, a few things on the doodles: I’m still cackling XD XD XD XD XD XD XD XD Especially about Amell (Pavle) going all “woe is me! 😩😩😩” over the dirt on his favorite robe while these two Alienage kids with probably multiple patches and mends on their clothes just look at each other like “can you believe this guy” XD XD XD XD XD XD XD It’s sooooooooo good and I am now imagining Pavle coming face to face with Sigrun’s particular brand of cheerful dead inside XD XD XD The official Grey Warden merch is amazing and our guys are great models. I really want that on a shirt now (and I could, now that I think of it. Ooooooh it’s tempting). I love Valendrian’s grey hair counter. The expression is on point XD XD XD The Plum of Peace should be a Feastday gift. And it’s very good to see reference for Radka, Pavle and Mr Andras (Who looks so kind!!!!!) Mousevhen is absolutely adorable. I want to give him all the pickled beets in the world

Keep reading

#two tabris au #novhen tabris #astala tabris #dao #dragon age #khêd brosca #radka brosca #pavle amell #ilanlas mahariel

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shanastoryteller · 4 years ago

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Underworld Dreams

i feel the need to clarify that this isn’t fiction writing, that these are about real dreams and real events that happened to me, and i was just thinking of them and thought - i should write these down

i don’t remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t tend to put much stock in the meanings of dreams, generally

but sometimes i have dreams that are stickysharp, that are very vivid, and that feel very real to me for the first few seconds after i wake up, and then i’m always filled with an embarrassing amount of relief that no matter what’s going on in my life currently, those problems aren’t my problems

my friends call them my underworld dreams

the first one i had was one i was very young, less than six years old, and i don’t remember much from my actual life from that age with clarity that i remember this dream. i was alone on the street, searching for someone, but everything was empty. i wasn’t scared. then i come across two dogs, fancy poodles, but they’re not right. they see me and immediately begin arguing. “what’s she doing here? she’s not supposed to be here.” “get rid of her” “she’s here now, she might as well stay” “she’s not supposed to be here!” and i try and interrupt, but then they’re looking at me, looming, so much bigger than me when they hadn’t been before, until they’re all teeth, and i’m running. all i hear is barking, and i’m not nor have i ever been afraid of dogs, but i run and my chest hurts but no matter where i look i’m alone. the dogs aren’t there, aren’t chasing me, but i don’t know where to go. i look around and i realize that everything’s in black and white. that the only things that hadn’t been a shade of grey had been the those two dogs. life isn’t shades of grey, i remember suddenly, and i bend over to pick up one of the grey bricks lining the sidewalk. i hold it in both hands and break it in half and liquid cement pools from the broken brick onto the ground. “oh,” i say, with relief, “it’s not real. this is a dream. i can leave now.”

then i wake up.

my mother dies a week before my tenth birthday and i have a dream that i do not forget. i am in the front yard, looking down at the highway from the large sloping hill of our home, leaning against a birch tree.

there’s a car slowly rolling down our long driveway. once, when i was younger, i was left to play in the front seat of the car as it was parked on top of the long driveway. it was an old car. i moved something i shouldn’t have and the car started rolling and i screamed and screamed, knowing something bad had happened but not how to stop it, and then my mother’s boyfriend, who i hated, ran and jumped into the rolling car and slammed on the breaks.

i am not in this car. it is getting faster, no one to slam on the breaks, and then my mother is standing next to me. “i’m in there,” she says. “you could save me.”

i understand that this isn’t real. that my mother is dead and so she can’t be standing next to me. everything else seems so real and normal, but my mother is here like she hasn’t been for weeks, and that means this is a dream. i look at the car rolling down the hill and remember her casket getting lowered into the ground and i say, “no. you’re already dead. you have to stay dead, that’s how this works.”

she’s disappointed, but not angry, she stands next to me, silent, as we watch the car roll into the highway, watch it crumple, watch it roll into a ditch. when i turn to look at her, she’s gone.

then i wake up.

i’m not relieved. i feel guilty for not saving her, even in a dream, even when she was already dead.

i do not dream of my mother again.

my grandmother raised me after my mother died. my grandmother dies when i’m twelve and i do not dream of her when it happens.

i will, years later, but not then.

i’m in high school and i have another dream. i am in something between victorian england and modern day. everything is gray. i live in a small apartment.

children keep appearing at my door. i let them in, i feed them, i cloth them. i go to food banks and schools, searching for who these children belong to, but no one claims them, so i keep them. it’s so hard to keep them, but i can’t leave them.

some of the children get sick. i do my best, but some of them die.

i put the bodies in the closet and lock the door. i tell the other, living children not to go near the closet.

i go searching. dead children don’t belong in closets. i go to the hospital, but they say they will not take random dead children. i go to the police and they laugh at me, saying no one will take them, that i’ll have to get rid of them on my own.

i am angry and desperate but there is a part of me that is not surprised.

i go home. i will have to keep the dead children in the closet. the living children ask questions, reach for the closet, and i stand in front of it, standing between my dead children in the closet and the living children in front of me, knowing that they can’t open it, that i have to keep it closed, because if i open it then my living children will walk into the closet with my dead children and they will not come out.

then i wake up.

i do not have any dead children in my closet. the relief is sharp, but not sweet.

i have a loft bed in college because the tiny room i’m sharing in this small apartment is not big enough for us to fit two bed side by side.

i dream that i wake up in this bed, in a place that’s not my own. there are children there, that i know but do not recognize. they cry out when they see me and yell for me to climb down. i do and they grasp my hands, pulling me outside.

my grandmother is there. other people that i do not recognize but that i know are there. the children are my cousins. these people are my family. we are outside and it is beautiful and bright. the grass is green and soft.

i sit and talk with my grandmother as the children play. the children run off somewhere else.

“i’m so glad you’re staying,” someone who i thinks might be an aunt says, patting my hand.

the first curl of unease is easy to mistake for confusion. “no, i can’t stay, i’m just visiting.”

“visiting?” she says, pitying. “there’s no visiting. the dead have to stay dead. you know that.”

i am cold. the grass is still soft. it’s still beautiful. i do not want to stay.

my grandmother is sad, not pitying, when she says, “it’s too late. they’re burning the bed.”

i am running. i do not stop to say goodbye.

the house is burning. the children are tugging at the long legs of my loft bed, trying to to pull it to the ground, and all around me are flames. i run through them, ignoring the cries of my cousins as i climb into the loft bed, laying down and burying my face into my pillow that smells of smoke and heat just as the legs crash and i’m tumbling to the ground.

then i wake up.

my pillow does not smell of smoke.

it’s finals week and i dream that i’m in a cave. there are bars on the entrance, even though it just leads to even more cave, and guards and a warm yellow light coming from somewhere.

i am with people i do not know. they are not concerned about leaving. i am. i get the gate open, the guards aren’t around. “come on,” i say to everyone. “let’s go. we have to go.”

“it’s just a waste of time,” one of them tells me. “we can’t leave. where would we go?”

i don’t understand.

someone else puts a water bottle and a several packets of saltine crackers into my hands. “you’ll need this,” he says, not unkindly. “don’t lose them. it’s important.”

i can’t force anyone to come with me. the guards will be back soon. they should be here now. leaving seems too easy, suddenly, but it’s not like i’m going to stay, so i go.

the caves are confusing. it takes a long time to find my way out, and i drink most of the water and eat the saltine crackers. when i step out of the labyrinth of caves it’s too bright, brighter than it’s ever been.

i walk for a long time. i come across a field that is a mix of golden corn and golden wheat growing side by side in a confusing, impractical mixture.

i see a man, dark skin and greying beard, in grey overalls and a grimy henley that maybe didn’t used to be grey but is now. he has a scythe in his hands, leaning back and swinging it through the mix of corn and wheat.

the wheat falls to the side and the scythe passes through the corn, leaving it unharmed.

“can you help me?” i ask. “i need to go home.”

the man startles, looking at me. “you shouldn’t be here.”

“i know,” i say, “can you help me? i can’t figure out how to get home.”

he stares at me for a long moment, then nods, digging a small hole in the ground with the toe of his boot. “here. you kept them, didn’t you?”

he doesn’t specify, but i know what he means. i take out the mostly empty water bottle and the torn plastic packets of the saltine crackers. i shouldn’t have eaten them. but it was the only way to get out the cave.

the man sighs, as if i’m tiresome, and takes them from my hands. he empties the saltine crumbs into the dirt, then pours the last of the water on top. he directs me to stand on top of the hole, and i do, and he kicks the dirt in around my feet. “they didn’t have to help you. you’re lucky they gave those to you.”

i am. i would not have gotten out of the cave without them. i would not be going home without them.

the man takes a step backwards, leans back, and swings the scythe through me.

then i wake up.

my bed is soft and warm. i wonder if i was the corn or the wheat.

my cousin has been two years younger then me our whole lives and she is two years younger than me when she dies. it is strange to think that for the rest of my life my cousin will not age and i will. i live on the other side of the country to her. the last time i was home, i had a bus to catch and she was busy talking to her boyfriend, so instead of waiting to hug her goodbye, i left and said, “i’ll hug you extra hard next time,” and the pain is too familiar to be sharp.

i dream we are in a beach house like we visited once as children, but we are adults. i am delighted to be here, with my family, warm and content and safe. my cousin is there and we’re floating in the pool and i look at her and my easy contentment falters. something is wrong. i put my arms under her shoulders and knees, like i’m supporting a child who’s just learning how to float, and she looks very still and peaceful until she cracks open an eye to grin at me. “oh no,” i say say, looking at her, remembering, “you’re dead.” disappointment flashes over her face. i wasn’t supposed to say anything. i wasn’t supposed to remember.

then i wake up.

i dream we at a garden we’ve never been to. it is bright and easy and the moment i see her, i know that she is dead, but she does not. i don’t tell her, i let her drag me to look at roses bloom, and try to feel for coldness in her skin, but it’s warm. i make myself smile and she doesn’t make me let go of her hand and it’s so very warm here. for the first time i want to stay, but it’s not even a choice. she looks down at our clasped hands and when she looks up, her lips are tinged blue. “oh no,” she says, and i’m reaching for her, to pull her in to hug her extra hard, but i’m not quick enough, “i’m dead.”

then i wake up.

can you forget you’re dead? i wonder. can you forget you’re alive?

the last stickysharp dream i had was over a year ago, and it was this:

i am at the beach with all my friends. i love them so much. it’s hot and and the sand burns my feet so we are sitting on the shoreline, damp and hot and laughing.

there is a bright flash of light. it’s a bomb going off. i don’t know how i know, but i do, and i run.

you can’t outrun a bomb, but i try, my first instinct to flee and the hot sand is burning my feet. it takes me too long to realize that no one else is running, that they’re all standing perfectly still, watching their death coming for them.

my friends are still at the shoreline. the first shockwave is coming. i don’t have enough time to run back to them, even though i want to.

i die alone

then i wake up.

i do not remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t put much meaning into dreams, generally

generally

#this is your grandma talking #yes these are real dreams yes they happened exactly as describes #even my subconcious is dramatic

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 4 years ago

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Favorite Human

Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: McCall!Pack x reader (platonic) Word count: 2.8k Summary: It’s Malia who first smells it - the bitter scent that had started to Infiltrate yours - and she, Lyida and Kira decide to find out what was wrong with you... Warning: Nothing too much really, but it’s slightly Angsty I guess. Also the feels Requested by the amazing, patient and great anon: Hi~,Teen Wolf person again. Can i request a pack image where the reader is hiding something for the pack and the pack are all sort of catching on to it like chemosignals and behaviour. Eventually they kinda piece the bits together and figure it out. they all try to comfort you and help you get better. Something just along those lines.(They could be hiding selfharm stuff, family stuff or they like someone in the group or yeah, you can pick what your comfort writing for) Thank you have a nice day~

The California sun was beating down on Beacon Hills and its inhabitants, a feeling of peace and calm that was - by now - almost foreign in the city laid in the air and prompted the resident teenagers and young adults to enjoy a day away from school, stress and (for a very special group) life threatening situations. This particular group - the McCall pack, as they were known in the supernatural community of the city - decided to spend their free time on a very nice, but fairly unknown clearing in the beacon hill woods and for once being surrounded by these trees didn’t give them the vibe that one of them could probably die at any given moment. It was a rather nice change. “Uno,” Liam smiled as he slapped a +4 card onto the floor, making Mason groan and throw his head back. It was the third time in a row that Liam was winning and while it seemed to leave you completely cold it annoyed Mason to no end, but he couldn’t stop playing either until either you or him finally beat the wolf. While the three of you were sitting in your game circle, Malia, Lydia and Kira were lounging on a picnic blanket enjoying the sun and having their conversation. The only one who was sitting on the grass like a lost puppy was Stiles, phone in hand but seemingly not having the attention span to focus on it for more than five consecutive seconds. Originally he and Scott had been sitting there together talking about Lacrosse or girls or whatever the two of them talked about when they weren’t planning to save the city, but Scott had - after lots of pleading and begging on his betas part - disappeared into the direction of the city to buy some ice cream for everyone. “Y/N?” Liam shocked your shoulder and you had to shake your head to come back into reality and out of your thoughts. “Yes?” you looked at him with wide doe-eyes full of confusion. “It’s your turn.” “Oh, right, sorry, just lost in thoughts,” you smiled apologetically and shrugged before turning to your cards to think about your next move, not noticing how Liam and Mason exchanged a look. They had started to notice the change in your behaviour only recently. Your usual very cheery, always-seeing-the-best-in-everyone-and-everything self started to be stuck in your thoughts more often and your smile seemed just a little bit off lately. “Here you go,” you looked up again and put a +2 in front of Liam earning a quiet ‘Yessss’ from Mason at the prospect of finally beating his best friend, only to be sorely disappointed when a smirk immediately filled Liam’s face as he victoriously added his own - last - +2 card onto the pile, effectively winning the game and starting a rather useless discussion about whether the fact that the makers of Uno stated that putting a +2 on another +2 and making it a +4 wasn’t allowed counted anything. While Mason and Liam kept on blickering you pulled yourself up from the grass-floor and wandered over to the girls who welcomed you with kind smiles and made space for you on the blanket. As you sank down you were immediately pulled into Malias lap who hugged you into her and pressed her nose into your neck and y/h/l hair to smell you - a habit of hers that you had at first found more than disturbing but by now had gotten used to. In fact, the more time you spent with your not-quite-human friends and acquaintances, the more you noticed that they all had their own little versions of that, even though with Malia it was the most extreme since she was still the one running mostly on her basic instincts. At least that’s how Stiles explained it to you. He said that since you were logically seen the most vulnerable and ‘weak’ member of the pack their natural instincts where to protect and shield you from all dangers and make sure you are alright and - after your initial reaction of punching the hell out of Stiles’ shoulder in order to show him just how not-weak you were - you started registering it more and more. It was mostly very little things with Scott, Liam, Derek and in some situations (even though rarely) Peter like little hugs and giving you their clothes to scent you, pushing themselves in front of you in the face of even the most harmless of situations or the way they just sometimes randomly turned up at your house (this was mostly Scott, Liam and Malia though) to check if you’re okay even if they could just call. With Malia it was all that, but times ten in intensitivity. And the smelling. Malia herself wasn’t quite sure why, but she simply loved your natural scent. It always managed to calm her down. So you got used to her randomly smelling at you even if it did weird you out from time to time. Usually she would pull back after a few seconds, give you a happy smile and get back to what she was doing before like nothing happened, but this time when she drew back she looked at you displeased and confused. “Is something the matter?” you asked just as confused and now the other girls, who had gotten used to Malias antics and taken on the habit of just completely ignoring it in order not to get growled at, got curious as well and turned their attention towards you. “Something’s off,” Malia grumbled and scrunched her nose like she’s smelt something rotten. “Oi!” you scoffed and moved back a little, feign being offended, “Are you telling me I stink?” “No,” Malia sighed and rolled her eyes, “It’s not that, it’s just...your scent is- I don’t know how to put it really. Bitter? I think?” “What does that mean?” Lydia asked, her interest now seemingly spiked. “‘M not sure,” Malia shrugged and moved forward to take another good sniff at your hair, only for you to move your head back out of her reach and put your hands on her shoulders to keep her a distance away from you. “I think that’s quite enough,” you chuckled, but it sounded mechanical almost, “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t really think me smelling bitter means anything.” Noticing the way you held yourself defensive, something that you almost never did, all three of the girls wanted to investigate further, but you quickly moved off of Malia’s lap and stood up. “Oh look, there’s our ice cream,” you smiled as if nothing was happening and jogged over to your Alpha to help him. “This was weird, right? She’s acting weird, isn’t she?” Kira questioned and looked between the other two girls who nodded, “What’s that about?” “Not sure, but we gotta find out before the boys notice anything. Malia is bad enough already, but if the male wolfies find out we’ll have a real problem on our hands,” Lydia sighed and inspected you from afar.

After then the three of them noticed it far more often, the way you held yourself changed and your smile seemed to lessen by the day. By the time you started to fold into yourself and Malia said that your smell was getting more bitter, to the extent that she could smell it above almost everything else surrounding you, they knew that it had gotten out of their hands. They had to involve the others as much as they dreaded their reactions. As they had predicted Scott, Liam and - surprisingly enough for a human - Stiles didn’t react kindly to it, immediately planning to confront you. But in a turn of events, their thirst for actions and the girls rational thinking evened each other out and they decided on an approach that was reluctant enough to not scare you away, while also - hopefully - pushing you to tell them what was wrong. They wanted to do it in an environment that you felt comfortable in so they decided to go to your place, but that meant that they couldn’t all come, since they didn’t want to overwhelm you either. So, after a long and exhausting discussion, they decided that Stiles would be the one who’d go in first to make sure everything was clear and then give the others a heads up to follow. The Pack was standing - as inconspicuous as it was possible for a group of five - on the other side of the street your house was in as Stiles was walking down your driveway, welcomed by a cute door plate that had obviously been made my a little child and he was pretty safe in his assumption that you had been the one who had made it when you were younger. After taking a breath of reassurance Stiles raised his hand and knocked on the door. You must have been near the door already, because not even ten second later the door was tipped open and you stared at him with tired eyes, in your alien Pajamas with messy hair. If Stiles had not known better he would have assumed you had tried to sleep. “Who is it Honey?” He heard the voice of your mother scream, but the usual sweet voice he was used to hearing from her was strained and mixed with annoyance. “Uhm...It’s Stiles! My friend from school, he was here last month to study for my english exam, you remember?” “Oh, yes,” your mother walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, “Hello Stiles.” Stiles returned the greeting, but his thoughts were more occupied by the state of your mother. Her hair looked unwashed and even more messy than yours, obviously not because of sleep, but rather because she hadn’t brushed it in a while, there were red stains under her eyes, the skin around it dry and strained, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she must have cried - a lot - and her blouse was wrinkled, which he knew from their previous meetings and what you had told him about her would usually be a no-go for her. “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” she smiled, but it was tight-lipped and obviously forced, but before she disappeared into the kitchen again she looked at you, “Y/N, make it fast please.” You just nodded and turned back to Stiles. “Hey,” he said again, a little bit uncertain now, the situation having thrown him off of the plan he had made in his head on the way from the pack to the door. “Hi,” you said and he had to admit that you were definitely your mothers daughter by the way your forced smile perfectly resembled hers. “I wanted to talk to you, uhm, we - I mean me and the pack by that, well it started with Lydia, Malia and Kira, but anyways - we noticed that you’ve been...how do I put this correctly- well, I guess you’ve been off more lately and so we’ve been worried, because usually you smile a lot and you always make unfunny jokes and all that and now you don’t so-” Stiles rambled and just let everything flow out at once, probably would have continued to do so if you hadn’t held up your hand to stop him. “Not-Not here, okay? I’ll answer your questions, but not here. Let’s take this outside, please,” you shut Stiles up and took his arm to lead him out of your house and onto your porch where you sat down on the stairs leading onto your front law. For a while there was silence as Stiles found himself unsure of what to do next, but he could basically feel the piercing stares of his friends on him. After a few seconds of contemplating he sat down beside you, while still keeping a little bit of distance - just to make sure he wasn’t too overwhelming. “So…” “Yeah, so…” “Why...have you been so off?” Stiles asked but honestly couldn’t help but cringe a bit at how completely un-smooth he sounded. “I- It’s-” you tried multiple approaches, but stopped yourself every time, only to sink your face into your hands and sigh, “I’m sorry.” You raised your face again and looked at Stiles and he could see the sadness, this slight sense of despair. “Hey, it’s okay, don’t rush yourself,” Stiles tried to comfort you, “If you can’t tell me that’s okay, we’re just all very worried about you. We want to make sure that you’re okay.” “No, it’s fine, I- I think I actually wanted to tell you all for a while, but- I don’t really know, it’s just been hard for me… My parent’s have been going through some rough patches for the last few months and now my dad - he,” you stopped again and hugged your arms around you, Stiles couldn’t help but notice the glistening of tears in your eyes, “-He moved out two weeks ago. I mean, sure there were signs, it wasn’t working well by all means, but moving out? That was pretty shocking for my mom and me.” By now the tears had started rolling down your face and Stiles couldn’t hold back anymore. He moved closer to you and laid his arm around your shoulder to pull you into him. It seemed that the pack couldn’t hold back anymore either, because only a few seconds either Lydia was kneeling in front of you holding your hands, the rest also finding positions around you - hoping to give you as much comfort as possible. You gave them a wet chuckle, even though your tears didn’t stop flowing. “I could’ve guessed that you’re not far. I’m sorry for being a mess.” “No, Don’t ever be sorry for feeling. We love you and that means that we’ll be there for you through the bad times just as we are in the good times,” Scott assured you and lovingly petted your head even though he knew that you always complained about how it made you feel like a little child or a puppy. “Thank you guys for being here - it’s just a lot right now. My mom is expecting me to be on her side, while my dad keeps expecting me to decide about where I’m going to live now. He wants me to move with him to New York into the city he grew up in, but I don't want to leave Beacon Hills. I have my whole life here, my school, you guys, my mom, literally everything, but I also don’t want to lose him- It’s just, I feel so torn and it seems like every choice I could take would be the wrong one,” you were full on sobbing at that point, but it was clear enough for your friends to understand you. “Hey, It’s okay,” Lydia tried to calm you down, “I know that this seems like an impossible choice, but I can assure you we will find a way. We’ve defeated some of the greatest evils that the world has seen and we were successful. We’ll be just as successful with this, okay?” You started nodding and for the first time in a while you were actually feeling just a little bit like yourself again, a sliver of home filling your heart at all your friends who were by your side and supporting you. “Lydia’s right,” Scott agreed. “There’s one thing I gotta ask though,” Liam started and before anyone else with a little more sense of sensibility could stop him asked: “Why didn’t you tell us before? I mean we’re you’re best friends ri-” At that moment Mason basically threw himself at him and put his hand in front of his mouth to shut him up. “You don’t have to answer that,” Kira assured you, but you just shook your head. “No, it’s fine, I get why he asked. I- I guess I just thought - it’s like Lydia said, we fight evil on a weekly base, we have to worry about so much more serious things than my stupid family drama.” “Now listen to me,” Lydia spoke up in her I-will-take-no-talkbacks-voice and looked at your sternly, “This is not stupid and it is by no means less imporant than anything else we do, okay? Maybe it’s not life-threatening or supernatural, but it is still hurting you and as friends we can’t let anything hurt our favorite human, can we now?” And in that moment everything was okay again - if only for just a few seconds - with your friends by your side and Stiles yelp of protest, because he insisted that he was at least Scott’s favorite human, - earning himself a look from Scott that told him that what Lydia said also applied to him - even made you laugh your normal laugh again. And so, when Malia finally got close enough to you with all your friends surrounding you to smell your scent, she found that your normal, sweet scent was finally returning again, and even though there was still a bitter undertone to it she now was sure that it would soon be back to her favorite scent again.

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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years ago

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Sorrow

Yandere Siren/Fae!Hawks x Reader

Warnings: Yandere content, survivalism, pain, slight blood, suggestive adult content

A/N: This is one of the fics I was gonna post in October, but didn’t finish it on time, but I guess that means I can be a spooky dude all year round.

Tears may be cheap, but you keep them sacred.

Your captor has taken almost everything away from you: your body, your mind, your freedom, but you will not be giving him your sorrow. That will stay buried, locked away inside your chest, where the key lies somewhere he will never get to. You know he wants it. He’d told you as much.

“I’ve committed all of your expressions to memory,” he’d said one night after you nearly bit his tongue off. He’d used his song to ease you into a half-lucid state, where he kept you in his lap, wrapped tightly in his arms, shrouded in his wings. “The scorch in your hateful eyes when you wish you could fight me. The tremble in your delicious pout when you wish you could resist me. The furrow in those beautiful brows when I have you forfeited to the pleasure I give you after a battle you wish you could have won.”

Air-light fingers brushed down your cheek. He’d grabbed you by the chin, and tilted your head so that your gaze was locked in with his.

“Do I really gotta sing every time I want you to surrender, little dove?”

His fingers tip-toed down your chest, past your opened blouse. His thumb encircled your nipple until it puckered for him. He’d given it a teasing pinch. You’d stifled a moan lodged in your throat. He’d noticed.

��Aren’t you sorry for hurting me?”

You remember how good it felt to have him kneading at your chest. How his breath was nothing short of intoxicating. How you wanted nothing more than to lean into him—to kiss him—to put your hands all over him. You also remember that the only reason you wanted any of that was due to his song—his sweet siren lullaby.

“Tell me you’re sorry, angel,” he’d said, cupping your face with his free hand. His thumb slid across your cheek, under your eye. You’d known he wanted to see you cry so badly. You would not.

You’d shaken your head, and took note of the twitch in his feathered eyebrows.

His hands had moved through your hair then, lightly pulling through your roots. That was when he’d parted his lips, and began to sing.

Kiego has three songs committed to memory: one to lull you to sleep, one to make you more suggestable in the bedroom, and one to beckon you to him. The song he’d sang for you that night was the suggestable one—the mesmeric tune that made you turn around so that your knees were on either side of his thighs, the one that made you melt into his embrace, the one that made you his.

You’ve always wondered why? Why you? Out of anybody in the world, the siren had grown to have an obsessive infatuation with you. At times, you have thought that if it hadn’t been you, it would be another unfortunate soul in your place—somebody else that might not be able to withstand him, or somebody else who would actively enjoy his company. But during the times he sings for you, you don’t think. You don’t have to.

When he sang to you that night, all you could think about was giving him everything he wanted; however, the stubborn sore in your heart still clung on to the idea that he would not have you in tears.

“Say you’re sorry,” he’d commanded again between slow, sensuous kisses.

And you’d responded with: “never.”

Since then, you’ve been good. You’ve been obedient. You’ve given him everything except your tears. If you don’t stick to your ideals, then you really do have nothing.

However, when one only has so little to lose, and so much more to gain, one becomes reckless. First, your recklessness comes in mere thoughts—creeping visions of harming your winged abuser, which proves as dangerous, seeing as he’s stronger than you, faster than you, and has that pesky siren song. Then, you’ve begun thinking about running. The closer, more agreeable you become, the more he lets his guard down. Unbeknownst to him, you’ve begun learning his schedule: when he eats, when he hunts, when he sleeps, and what wakes him.

Comfort and praise seems to be the ticket to getting him to trust you more. Each night, you stroke his wings, you kiss his neck, you tell him his voice is gorgeous, fathomless, and irresistible. He thinks he has you under his spell—maybe he does, a little bit—but you’re not completely lost to him. You know that you have to leave. You know that you will leave. You’ve just got to figure out when.

It happens early in the morning.

The night before, he’d brought home spirits for you and him to drink. The two of you toasted to each other, danced together, and drank together. But he hadn’t seen that most of what had been in your glass went discarded in one of the potted plants full of herbs and berries he has allowed you to tend to. He hadn’t seen when you spiked his glass with a concoction you’d been working on for weeks with the herbs and berries he’d allowed you to tend to. He hadn’t noticed when his eyes grew drowsy, and he fell into bed with you in tow, you eased away from him, waiting for his breathing to slow.

The sun’s not up yet, but you know you have to leave. When you’re ready, you tie your boots, stock some food and water, and despite everything he’s put you through, you kiss him. Once. A sort of farewell, thanks for the memories, I won’t be missing you, you piece of chicken shit.

The departure is soundless—something you’re not used to due to Kiego’s constant singing, crooning, and happy little chirps. His guard had been down the night before, so there aren't as many safety precautions to heed as you silently maneuver your way to escape his loft.

When you’re out, you’re out. Free. Running. The most you can do to not shriek with glee and alert him of your escape is to keep your goal in mind: Find civilization. Find help. Hide. Keep running. Whatever you need to do to keep your safe stead.

At least, that’s always been the plan. You hadn’t accounted for the landscape. In fact, you’ve only ever seen a fraction of the surrounding parameters of his loft. You don’t know about the drop-off point by the outer edge of the woods. The whispering oranges of dawn have only just cracked through the trees, so you don’t see the danger when you slip on some foliage and are sent spiraling. Falling, rolling, screaming, until you catch yourself on a tree. Rather, your body wraps around a tree, which nearly knocks the wind out of you.

Groaning, you lay there for a while and breathe. The air filling up your lungs is frigid. Deadly. A part of you wants to fall asleep, find warmth in your dreams. A part of you knows that if you do that, you might catch hypothermia and die.

So you stand.

The world is dizzying. Trees tilt, while shrubs and rocks spin around you. Your first few steps are a sideways hustle. You’re like a toddler first learning to walk. There’s a sharp pain in your leg, and it takes everything out of you not to look down. If you think you’re seriously injured, you’ll give up. You hadn’t packed anything for first aid, and even if you had, you’ve lost your water and food during the fall.

You’re not sure which way to walk for a few minutes. You’re dawdling, finding your footing. The destination should be away from the drop-off, so you slowly make your way down the hill, sitting and scooting when you’re unsure if you’ll fall again.

It’s only when you find solid ground again that you hear him. His song. Some new hypnotic tune, miles away, reverberating throughout the forest. It’s nothing short of haunting and you don’t spare another second to listen. He’s awake. He knows you’re gone.

The next mile is clumsier than before. Though you’re sure not to fall, your balance is off, and your body slams into a dozen trees. Sometimes it’s because you can’t help it, while you often just need one to hold you up so you can breathe. Your palms cover your ears the entire time, and even still, his song gets louder. Invasive. He’s growing nearer. If you don’t hide, he will find you.

By nothing short of a miracle, you find a large tree where the trunk is hollowed out. You crawl in, allowing your hands to touch the ground, away from your ears for only a moment, but a moment is all the song needs.

Suddenly, you’re struck with an aching. It’s anguish. Mourning. Sorrowful remembrance. Your chest constricts with a dire need to release, but you don’t go so far to ponder exactly what it is trying to crawl its way up your esophagus. You hold back your emotions with what’s left of your strength, while you try to keep your breathing steady.

Through the cracks in the trunk, you see a flash of brilliant crimson. The ground thuds with his landing. It’s silent for a moment, until his song starts up again. You keep your palms clamped over your ears while you bury your head between your knees. You’ll stay like that for however long is needed. You will not allow yourself to be seduced or lulled or beckoned. You will not be found.

There’s no telling how much time has passed. Seconds crawl to minutes, and minutes crawl to excruciating tension. You’re not aware of the end of his song until you use your hand to wipe at your leg. It’s sticky, probably from blood, but you won’t think about it until you’re safe.

It has to have been awhile since he’s scoured the area. You army crawl out of the tree, chest scraping away at the frosty, dirt floor. The sun is barely peeking up through the trees, and you allow its warmth to touch your mud-caked skin.

In the distance, there’s smoke. With a bit of walking, you see a fire pit, and someone in a black, wool cloak sitting by it.

Picking up your pace, you call out to him, but your voice cracks to only a squeak. Still, the hooded man looks up at you. You hope he can see that you’re hurt, recognize that you’re in need of first aid. He can shelter you, take you back to civilization, and save you.

But while you half-hazardly bound towards him, you’re pushed to the side. Rather, you’re zooming through the air, unable to utter a scream, until your back slams into a tree.

Despite the pain, the loss of energy, you writhe and howl under Keigo’s harsh scrutiny. His wings spread out, taking a predatory stance, while desperate amber eyes search your body. Though his face doesn’t show a hint of malice, you know the trouble you’re in. His lips part, and an unfamiliar melody begins.

“No!!!!!” Your hands fly up to your ears, but he catches them in a vice grip, pinning them back against the giant tree’s trunk. He begins to sing and you know you’ve lost.

Loss. That’s what this is—his song. Unbridled, unrelenting grief. The tune sweeps across your feet, slowly creeping up your body. It hugs your waist as it wraps around you, squeezing as it coils. You choke as the substantial heartache clogs your throat with the emotions you’ve been repressing for months.

Tears burn your lower lashes and your vision blurs. You blink, and a hot stream runs down your cheek. Though Keigo continues to sing, you see a subtle tilt to his mouth. While your body slackens, too tired to fight him off any longer, he cups your face and pulls you into him before you can crumple. He pets your beat up, bruised back, and coos.

“Sneaky little bird.” There are two octaves in Keigo’s voice as he speaks to you, as if two people were speaking at once. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

A part of his statement is true. You can feel it. His songs reflect his emotions and desires, and he wouldn’t be able to create this relentless melody unless he, too, felt the way it made you feel. But you also hear the triumph on his tenor. He has obtained what he’s always wanted: the key to that sacred place in your heart you wouldn’t allow him to venture to. There’s no saying that he doesn’t now own you completely.

“My sweet angel, what am I going to do with you?” As he speaks, you cling to him, knitting your nails into his shirt.

“I’m s-sorry.” It’s a faint croak, but it’s all you have to offer him. It’s all you can do to stop more renegade tears from staining his shirt. His chest shakes as he chuckles.

A twig snaps in the near distance. Keigo sharply turns towards the noise, and wraps an arm around your waist, one of his wings shrouding you slightly. Through his puffed out feathers, you see the man from the fire pit standing near a tree. He eyes the both of you with intrigue, but not concern. You cast him a pleading look, and you know he sees you, but all he does is sigh.

There’s a low, sort of echoing growl coming from deep within your captor’s chest. It’s menacingly territorial, but the cloaked man doesn’t react. Instead, he steps back and into the tree. Not like he stepped into the tree, rather, at one point he was a man, and now he is the tree. Two separate objects becoming one.

Keigo lets out an annoyed grunt, and in one swift movement, hoists you into his arms, carrying you in bridal style. He looks down at your leg, which you can now see has a giant scarlet puddled gash in it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says while his wings begin to flap. The gusts blow foliage around you as you lift off the ground, and Keigo offers you a sort of sweet, conjugal smile. “After that, we can discuss your...punishment.”

A sob tears out from your throat. Keigo tuts, cradling you closer to his chest.

“You don’t have to worry, little dove. Though, I do promise to be gentle, don’t expect me to act like a gentleman. You’ve put us through the ringer today, and once you’re healed and healthy, we’ll work on all the ways you’ll be apologizing. Until then, let’s go home.”

Home. The place where Keigo will have you locked away in his birdcage of a loft. The place where you give him your body, your mind, your freedom, and now, even your sorrow.

While the two of you take flight, you think to cry some more--to let it all out of your system before you have your captor’s undivided attention. But as he flies, he hums a tune, and soon your eyelids fall, and you slacken in his embrace.

#yandere bnha #yandere!hawks #hawks x reader #yandere!hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #bnha x reader #siren!hawks #siren!hawks x reader #yandere male #bnha oneshot #yandere!keigo takami #yandere x reader #suggestive content

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hogmilked · 3 years ago

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obsessed w u

Bruh it’s not that hard to let go of Harry Potter why does it have such a gorilla grip on some of u people. “It’s a cultural phenomenon” okay? it’ll never be SpongeBob.

#also #and i promise this isn’t an attack specifically aimed at my irls but it is about you too #white lgbt+ people saying they’re trying to reclaim it y’all reclaiming the antisemitism and racism and ableism and fatphobia too?#ESPECIALLY afab white queer people who are the people i mainly see claiming they’re trying to take it back #even though jkr’s transphobia is specifically against trans women #y’all are like ‘i think i will make this for me’#i love some of y’all fr but besties this is not yours to reclaim #this isn’t like a slur. putting someone with the power to actively kill trans women on a pedestal for the sake of your nostalgia #will never be worth the reclamation of nostalgia #and even beyond the terfism you cannot reclaim it without also saying you’re reclaiming:#the racism of the house elves #the antisemitism of the goblins #the fatphobia of…like a million characters #the racism and xenophobia of boiling non-white characters down to racist stereotypes like cho chang #the overall white supremacist and classist undertones of the muggle/pure blood system #the copraganda of the ministry of magic #the ableism of the ‘magical cure’ trope and treatment of curses as analogs to disability #and so much more horrible shit that most of you should be old enough to recognize has always been there now #im not going to shame anyone for having enjoyed harry potter as a kid when you couldn’t recognize this #but when you’re still trying to die on this hill as an adult who is willing to let nostalgia allow you to find comfort in hate #i can’t be okay with that

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sunmoontruth-stiles · 4 years ago

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Ok this is gonna be long. I’ve literally been slowly working on this for… too long. I’m just in a mood to have a long discussion about ships. I’ll be looking at canon and not, so bare with me. I don’t ship all of these personally. I’m mostly just picking the most popular ones. I chose to leave out a few that I just don’t want to talk about. I tried to keep this loosely chronological, but that quickly went to hell. None of this is meant to be hate towards anyone’s ship, just my personal opinions on each of them.

Canon:

Scott x Allison: True Classic

Scallison is so sweet as it is truly the epitome of young love. Romeo and Juliet, except Romeo is even more of an idiot and Juliet is a badass who dies for a cause. They’re moral and ethical codes are both highly valued by themselves, even if they don’t align with others very often. They loved with everything they had. They were beautiful. We’re they soulmates in the end, or just the first love who will always hold a special place in your heart? Who knows, but I’ll always love these immature kids who thought their love could change everything.

Stiles x Lydia: The Long Awaited

Stydia is as slow burn as you can get. Unfortunately their actual getting together was slightly rushed in my opinion. They didn’t have time to find their own as a couple because Stiles just wasn’t in the show enough at that point. I know the reasons behind it, but it did leave this couple at an awkward stage of official-but-not-shown. The idea that Stiles loved her as a kid, immature and infatuated, and he saw her for who she really was, will always be cute. Then they grew, changed, became friends, and found other people. Them finding each other later on, having real love that’s developed slowly, is a wonderful arc. Though, a part of me will always believe they should have pursued other story lines in the wake of Stiles’ absence from the plot. They’re finally together! …but we don’t get to see it.

Jackson x Lydia: The Image

Oh Jackson and Lydia. Honestly, I love them. Their connection at a time in their lives when they couldn’t open up to anyone else, just hits me right in the feels. I mean, god that HUG. You know the one. Always brings me to tears. I’m so sad their relationship was almost entirely depicted during Jackson’s kanima time when he couldn’t think nor truly act for himself. Those small moments of scared vulnerability when he wanted to protect her from himself… I’ll miss these two. They deserved to find other people and remain life-long friends. I loved their moment in the last episode. I wish they’d gotten to see each other grow. Also they had such bixbi solidarity vibes, and I’ll die on that hill.

Scott x Lydia: Leaders

Ok, I’m gonna be honest here. I ship it. The power couple they would have been?? Also them coming together after they lost Allison would have actually made sense. A part of me kinda wishes the writers had moved on from Stydia as a romantic relationship and leaned into them growing as friends and Stiles moving on from his childhood crush. Scott and Lydia actually would have had good chemistry. They were both very headstrong heroic types, but Lydia would have balanced Scott out well intellectually. They had the history, and I think it could had worked if they wrote it right. Plus, Scott and Lydia would have been a better endgame that Scalia.

Scott x Kira: New Beginnings

These two were adorable. Kira was a badass, don’t get me wrong, but she let herself be soft in a way Allison was always afraid to. This couple was truly Baby. Absolute dorks. I can definitely see the lasting quality between the two of them. They saw things very similarly, and had a ton in common. I do think Kira deserves more characterization outside of their relationship, like more of her friendship with Malia. Overall, her departure from the show will always be sad to me. It was bad writing. Scott was over her far too quickly.

Aiden x Lydia: Pretty People Herd

I honestly didn’t see much between these two other than mutual attraction. The best thing to come out of this relationship was Lydia’s line, “You’re not just a bad boy, Aiden. You’re a bad guy. And I don’t want to be with the bad guys.” Good character development moment.

Ethan x Danny: Step to Redemption

Danny really was the thing that made Ethan look outside of the pack for what he really wanted out of life. They had a few cute scenes. Gotta love Danny’s final remarks, “Dude, it’s Beacon Hills.”

Allison x Isaac: Unexpected Rebound

Ok, I like these two. Isaac could match Allison’s snark in a way Scott couldn’t. They both fought the progression of the relationship slightly. They didn’t expect to fall for each other. They were less willing to let someone in close. I’d love to have seen more… but unfortunately their time was limited. On a side note, sometimes their relationship did feel like ‘we both are in love with the same guy, let’s cope with each other’, but I find that completely valid. I’ll talk about Scallisaac later though.

Stiles x Malia: Anchors

Ok but, them <3 I love what they did for each other. Stiles was able to help Malia connect to her humanity and other people. He never tried to isolate her in their relationship and encouraged her growth. Malia offered Stiles the emotional support he never asked for. She defended him, fought for him, and loved him fiercely. Stiles needed that so much after season 3. I think they were a love that wasn’t meant to last, but the impact of it was forever. I wish we’d gotten to see a real end for them where they agreed that they needed to grow as individuals but would always still care.

Liam x Hayden: Three’s a Pattern

These two’s characterization stopped whenever they had storylines together. Their relationship was built on Scallison references. Hayden’s character could have been interesting, but they never really gave her a moment to shine. Liam has the worst plots when they revolved around her. Cute couple, poor writing.

Derek x Braeden: Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girl Boss

Derek deserves to be happy so much. Kate and Jennifer were just... jeez. Him and Braeden were cute and deserved more screen time. I think her intensity allowed for Derek to let go of control a bit more comfortably. Let Derek Be Soft. Anyway, love them.

Corey x Mason: Gotta Have That Rep TM

These two could have been cute if they were shown for more than two seconds at a time. I highkey forget Corey even existed all the time. Kinda just felt like a relationship to fill TW’s gay quota.

Jackson x Ethan: The Callback

Honestly? Loved them. Loved the chemistry. Loved the dynamic. Best twist. I know it was probably written in like that because Colton came out during his time away from the show, but it absolutely fit his character. Jethan is top tier.

Melissa x Chris: BAMF Parent Duo

Ok, so like, Melissa deserved this plot. She deserved someone to care about her. However... what the hell? Chris? In canon, his wife died like 2-ish years prior? His daughter died 1 year prior?? Is Chris really in a position to pursue a new relationship?? Also, like, Scott and Allison dated and loved each other up to her death. Kinda weird to have their parents hook up. I don’t hate it, but I don’t ship it…?

Scott x Malia: Lead up? What’s lead up?

These two came out of nowhere I stg. Like, 6B really tried to tell us this was something that had been slowly developing in the background? Also, I understand that they are their own people, adults, and completely in charge of their own romantic pursuits: but did Scott seriously never call Stiles? Like, Malia wasn’t just his first girlfriend. She was his first. Like, dude that’s your best friend?? Not even a head’s up? No, ‘hey would this bother you?’ Oof. Plus Malia was way too chaotic for Scott. She existed in gray morality that always prioritized her immediate circle, and Scott was a very black/white type of heroism. I just didn’t feel like they fit.

Non-Canon:

Scott x Stiles: Childhood Best Friends

Ya, sorry, I don’t ship Sciles at all. I get it. Like, I totally understand the ship, and I mean no judgment at all. I just see them as friends. I really value good male friendships in media because I feel like we don’t get enough, and I always liked these two.

Stiles x Derek: Enemies to Lovers. 100k. Angst. Hurt/Comfort.

God these two really are what fanfiction was made for. I could write a much longer discussion about Sterek, and I probably will eventually. I’ll try to keep this brief. These two weren’t always on the same side, but their approach was the same. They were very similar at their core. Plus, wow the chemistry. This should have been canon. Jeff’s a coward.

Allison x Lydia: Powerful.

This ship is so great. They really had a great dynamic, and a romantic plot would have easily fit the established narrative. Lydia’s confidence in herself and Allison’s confidence in her own abilities crossing over to each other because that’s what the other lacked? Iconic.

Danny x Jackson: He Gets Him

Danny really saw Jackson for everything he was and still cared. I wished we’d gotten to see more of them. I want more background with Jackson’s eventual coming out and his friendship with Danny. Like, they ended up dating the same guy. What did Ethan have to say about that??

Stiles x Jackson: Bastards

Ok these two had a super fun dynamic. The asshole-energy between them was, great. The snark was always so entertaining.

Melissa x Noah: Family

How were these two not endgame? Their sons were practically brothers already. They had amazing chemistry. The flirting? Not to mention, their timeline would have made way more sense. Missed opportunity.

Chris x Peter: The Opposite of Love is Indifference, Not Hate

Ok so like, this was definitely one of those ships that I had absolutely no knowledge of before I was pretty into the fandom. Like, this was not something I would have guessed just after watching the show. That being said; my god the chaos alone…

Scott x Isaac: The Disaster Duo

Okay ya I love these two. Two dumb asses who act like idiot puppies. Such a fun dynamic. Plus?? Chemistry??? Hellooo

Scott x Allison x Isaac: Three Heads Are Better Than One

This ship is definitely one of my personal favorites. I very rarely poly-ship. I just feel like most of them are just love triangles with an ‘easy solution’, when two of them have no real connection. That is so not the case here. I feel like all of them have such great chemistry with each other. They also have a great dynamic as a group. Season 3A was really just Scallisaac rights.

Stiles x Isaac: I Hate You, jk…Not Really

Ok I loved their banter, but I really just don’t see this ship. Idk, I don’t personally ship it. Would have loved to see their friendship develop more tho.

Erica x Allison: Duo that would stab you with a stiletto

I don’t ship it, but I do wish we’d seen them become friends. I feel like they had a very artificial ‘girls fighting over a boy’ dynamic? They could have been such a badass duo.

Stiles x Erica: Batman x Catwoman

Ok I’m not sure exactly how to express my feelings for these two so bare with me. OMG I love their dynamic so much, and they are sooo cute. Their energy? Amazing. Chemistry? Great. History? It’s there and has so much potential. 10/10. Love them. But, no, I don’t ship it lol. Just really love their friendship, but with the underlying history of crushes.

Boyd x Erica: Was This Not Canon?

How can anyone not love Berica? Ugh they are adorable. These two deserved so much better.

Boyd x Cora: Survivors

Honestly I don’t really see it? Like they definitely had a connection, but it never felt romantic. I really feel like they just had to lean on each other and bond to make it through captivity, and it just lasted.

Boyd x Erica x Cora: The Pack

I literally learned this was a ship a couple days ago. Similar feelings towards this as Bora, but with the added hesitancy of we never actually saw Erica and Cora interact.

Cora x Stiles: Slow Build Up

These two were clearing being lined up to be a thing before Cora ended up leaving. I can’t say I’m disappointed they never happened. Kinda felt like they just wanted to straight-code Sterek.

Cora x Lydia: Mean Lesbians

Not much interaction to actually go off of, but yes I 100% support. They have very different approaches to problems, which is fun. Very ‘opposites attract��.

Malia x Kira: “Maybe you could date the coyote?”

Another one of my favorites!! They really complimented each other. Also, how full circle would they have been? They were introduced in back-to-back episodes. Malia stalking her as a coyote? The line from Kira’s dad about dating it? It would have been so funny if that ended up happening.

Malia x Lydia: Beauty and the Beast, but make it wlw

These two were fun. I liked their friendship, but I don’t really ship it. Though, rip Stiles that would have been hilarious.

Parrish x Lydia: The Cop and The Minor

Must I say more? Like, Parrish’s character, so sweet and big rule follower, did not make sense for what went down with Lydia. I love Parrish, but the dynamic just felt off. It didn’t feel consistent with the rest of his characterization.

Parrish x Stiles: The Cop and The Minor, but gay?

Ok, same reasoning as above, but also they had absolutely no connection romantically.

Scott x Theo / Stiles x Theo: Sometimes The Villain is Hot

Ok I’ve put these together because I have the same opinion for both. I don’t ship it. Neither had any rebuilding of trust, and Theo really hurt both of them. I just don’t really think they work.

Mason x Liam: Sciles Puppy Pack Edition

Similar to my feeling about Sciles, I just don’t ship these two. They had a good friendship, from the little we saw of it.

Theo x Liam: Anchors 2: Electric Boogaloo

Another personal favorite! I really don’t even understand why this didn’t go canon?? The elevator scene was just, so intense. They helped each other grow in 6B, and I really loved their dynamic. They should have hooked up.

Honorable Mention?:

Parrish x Laura: What’s canon?

I’ve seen this in fanfic a lot, and I actually really like it lol. I thought I’d add it in here because I do love the creativity of fandoms.

78 notes · View notes

silkling · 3 years ago

Note

Hi Silkling, could you please write a TFP story where Sierra discovers the Autobot's secret and joins up with Team Prime? TFP never really did much with her, and I think that a shame. I think Smokescreen would make a good partner for her.

Absolutely! Great to see you again in my ask box! :D your last prompt was super fun to write to, so I’m looking forward to this one! Now, I admit, I never paid much attention to Sierra, and the show didn’t give us a lot to work with, so I’m going to have to come up with some of her characterization. And I agree. So I’m mashing her with Smokescreen. It’s gonna a be great. I love Smokescreen very much! I even have a whole AU of my own for him. He’s a tiny happy dumbass and since Sierra has basically no canon personality, I can make her be his long-suffering but still very fond best friend.

———————————————————————————————————

Sierra had been having a good day. Emphasis on the word had. It was the weekend. She had packed a small picnic, grabbed her favorite book, and hopped on her bike. She’d ridden out to the popular hiking trails, intending to take a short hike and finding a nice place to spend the afternoon with a her novel and her snacks. The sun was out, the weather was great, and she had nothing to do today. It was perfect. So, of course, the laws of the universe demanded that something go wrong.

‘Murphy is a cruel bastard and and I’m going to punch him in the face when I see him in the afterlife.’ She thought viciously, staring up at the hulking titan that had just crushed her lunch and bike under a single massive metal foot with a sense of numb disbelief. ‘At least I still have the book.’ She ignored how the thought echoed with a note of hysteria as she shoved said book into the messenger bag over her shoulder.

“Are you Sierra O’Niell?”

She was only slightly surprised when the massive robot spoke. Because why wouldn’t the giant robot that had just moments ago been a jet be able to speak? Honestly, what even was her life at this point. She was more concerned with the fact that the thing knew her name. Her initial instinct was the demand how it knew her name. But she’d seen the movies. She knew that would only confirm it’s suspicions.

“Who?” she forced herself to ask instead, surprising herself with how steady her voice was. It was the shock, she told herself. It had to be. It was making her emotionally numb. “What are you?”

The robot seemed startled, before it snarled something that was most definitely a curse. It started speaking, though not to her, and it took Sierra a moment to realize it must have been talking over some sort of built in communication system. “-wrong human, Soundwave! This pathetic fleshling you pointed out to me doesn’t even know who I am talking about.” It paused. “What do you mean it’s not the wrong human? I just told you-“ it cut itself off. “Ah. I see.” A sinister grin twisted at metallic features. “Thank you, Soundwave. I will return with my prize shortly.”

Oh, Sierra did not like the sound of that.

Sure enough, the robot turned to face her when it was done. “It seems you lied to me, little fleshling.” it sneered. “My associate tracked the signal of your personal communications device. You humans never go without it, I’ve been told.”

She blinked. “You hacked my phone?” she sputtered, and oops, she’d just confirmed her identity. ‘Stupid, Sierra.’

It’s face twisted into a cruel expression of glee. She did not like it. “Indeed.” It began bending down, and then a large hand was reaching towards her. “You shall be coming with me, human. Soundwave has seen how Jackson Darby is fond of you.” it purred. “You will make a lovely bargaining chip against that pathetic human runt and his Autobot protectors.”

And wait, this was because of Jack? How did he come into all this? If this thing was after her because of him, that had to mean he knew about it and it’s…friends. Did robots have friends? She didn’t know. And wait, Autobot?

She stiffened, scrabbling away from the large metallic hand, shunting those questions to the back of her mind to be answered later. Escape the terrifying metal monster now, murder Jack for pulling her into this later. Clearly though, the robot disliked her attempt to flee because it only growled and stepped towards her again.

That’s when she heard the roaring of a powerful engine. It made the robot pause too, and they both looked to where the sound came from. Then, over the crest of a hill, a white and blue sports car came flying in. It had red accents and bold 38s painted onto its doors. Sierra was impressed. She was no car person, but even she liked this one. Only, the car started breaking apart once it hit the ground, unfolding and growing into the form of, you guessed it, another robot.

Sierra despaired for her luck. ‘Murphy is going to die a second time for this. He’d better be prepared.’ She thought with vicious hysteria.

Except, to her great surprise, the new robot didn’t try to help capture her. No, instead it rammed full force into the tall jet robot that had tried to snatch her up. Said jet yelped before quickly getting back to its feet. Sierra heard the should of metal and gears shifting, and saw the newcomer’s large hand change to some sort of weapon, though not one she could recognize.

“Terrorizing humans now, Starscream?” it taunted. “Can’t say I’m surprised, you always were one to sink so low.”

The first robot, Starscream, apparently, snarled in outrage. “Pathetic Autobot!” it roared, and oh, so this newcomer was Autobot?

Except, from the two names she’d heard already, that didn’t sound like the type of name these robots seemed to have. She did notice the little face badges they wore, the white bot bearing a red one proudly on its shoulders while the jet robot wore a smaller, pointier face on its chest. So maybe those had something to do with the whole ‘Autobot’ thing? Hell if she knew. Sierra was clever, and she’d always been good at puzzles and mystery solving, but she didn’t have enough information for this whole…thing.

“I’m not the one who’s picking on defenseless humans, ‘Con!” the car robot barked, smirking at the skinnier jet.

The jet only snarled, lifting an arm that she was just noticing had a freaking missile attached to it, and the white robot stilled briefly, before shooting her a frantic look and oh, would you look at that, she seemed to be right in the blast radius of the missile, and oh god she was going to die-

Except, there was that shifting sound again, but much larger, and then car robot was leaping towards her. It hit the ground in car form, it’s driver door open as it slid sideways in her direction, and then she was swept up into it and the door slammed shut. Tires squealed, and then they were peeling away to the sound of a missile screaming and impacting where they had been a half second before. The jet roared in outrage, but the car robot was speeding straight towards civilization, and it seemed to want to avoid that because when she glanced at the rear view mirror she saw it leap into the sky and transform before flying away.

Sierra slowly sat up from her ungainly sprawl, pulling the seatbelt across her chest on reflex before sitting back against the driver’s seat and wheezing. Her heartbeat, which she only just noticed had been thundering wildly in her chest, started to slowly calm, and she had to force herself to take deep, even breaths to keep herself from hyperventilating.

Now, Sierra wasn’t an irrational girl. She was among the top students of all her classes, she was smart, she knew a lot about various topics, and she had a good understanding of how people worked. She was clever, she knew she had a good head on her shoulders. She kept some of her interests closer to her chest, and she played the good, polite, quiet girl for the adults, because she wasn’t without manners, thank you very much. All that meant, though, was that she wasn’t prone to screaming in terror and running like a madman when she was freaked out by something. She would prefer to understand something rather than be irrationally terrified of it.

This, though? This was a bit much, even for her. As her heartbeat calmed, a sense of nausea built in her throat. “Excuse me, robot?” she squeaked. She wasn’t even sure if she could communicate with it while it was in car mode, but it was worth a shot.

“It’s Smokescreen.”

What?

“What?”

“My name is Smokescreen. Not “robot”.”

It sounded miffed. Which, okay. That was fair. If someone called her just “human” she’d probably be upset too. Hell, she had been upset when that other one, Starscream, had called her a “fleshling”. Smokescreen’s voice also sounded very male, and she paused before asking.

“And you’re not an “it” either, then?”

“No, I’m a mech.” A pause. “Uh, a male, by your definitions.”

“Okay. Smokescreen. Well, I’m Sierra, and as grateful as I am for your rescue you should really, really stop and let me out. Humans don’t handle extreme stress very well and I’m about to be sick.”

“Sick?”

Oh god, did robots even get sick?

“I’m about to vomit. Which means I am very close to expelling internal body waste, and it will be right in your seats if you don’t let me out so I can barf behind some rocks.” she informed him tightly, fighting down a gag.

There was a brief moment if silence as Smokescreen seemed to process her words, before he turned off the side of the road, drove behind some rocks, and popped open the door. “Please don’t be sick in me.” Oh, now he sounded sick. Sierra felt a little bad.

She didn’t say anything to that, instead stumbling out of the car and out of sight, before promptly bending over and tossing her breakfast. She gagged on bile, and after a moment of pause to make sure there was nothing left in her stomach, she stood and made her way back to where Smokescreen was waiting. She pulled her water bottle from her bag, taking a sip and washing out her mouth with it before spitting it to the side, and then she proceeded to drink everything left in the bottle. She tucked it away, turning to her impromptu ride, and opened her mouth to speak, when-.

“Oh slag.” He beat her to the punch.

She was confused, recognizing that as a curse of some sort, and then she heard the beeping from his radio.

“Um, hold on for a minute, alright? I gotta take this.” He sounded anxious, and didn’t give her a chance to answer before there was a click as he did just that.

She heard muffled noises over the radio, though she couldn’t make out the words being said.

“Um, yeah. There was a ‘Con signal. I was close so I checked it out.”

More radio noises, angry sounding ones.

“I know, I know! But I was closest and no one would pick up their comm. so I thought I should st least check it out! It was a good thing too, Starscream was there and he was about to snatch up a human!”

A pause, and then an explosion of garbled noise from the radio. Sierra got the feeling that Smokescreen was wincing.

“Well what was I supposed to do? Let her be taken? Plus she’d already seen him so it wasn’t like seeing me was going to do much damage!”

A growling noise, followed by a hiss of static.

“Yes, Ratchet. I know. And I am sorry, alright! I know I went against code again but if I had waited a human would’ve been in Deception hands and as new as I am to this planet, even I know that’s bad!”

Wait, planet? Was this giant ass robot an actual alien? That…honestly made sense. With that day she’d had, she wasn’t even surprised. Smokescreen was still having his discussion with…whoever was on the other end.

“Yes, I’ll bring her back to base. I’m not going to apologize for saving her, though.”

More angry static.

“Yeah yeah. I get it.”

He sounded tired, defeated. Sierra felt bad, and wondered what was being said to make him sound like that when he’d been so bright before.

“No, you don’t need to send a ground bridge. I’m close to the base anyway. I’ll be there soon.”

There was a click as Smokescreen disconnected from whoever called him, and then she could tell he was talking to her when he spoke next. “Mind hopping in? I gotta bring you back to base. The boss can explain everything. I promise you won’t be hurt or anything.”

Sierra hesitated for a moment, then sighed. She knew she probably shouldn’t, but at this point what was the harm? Besides, her gut instinct was telling her that, based on what that Starscream character had said about Jack, she wouldn’t have to worry about being hurt. Not if Darby spent all his free time around these weird alien robots and came back fine. Mind decided, she slipped into the car’s open door. It shut on its own, and she buckled herself in once more.

“Thanks.” He sounded grateful. And then he was driving off.

He wasn’t saying anything, and neither was Sierra, and she let herself be alone with her thoughts. They drove for a while, and Sierra let herself enjoy the landscape that passed by Smokescreen’s window. He really was a nice ride, she mused. Sleek and fast, and his engine purred quietly as he drove along the highway. She didn’t know much about cars, but she knew his car mode was a good one.

Soon enough, they were coming towards a large mesa. Smokescreen drove right toward its side, not even slowing as he approached, Sierra tensed, about to protest, when a previously invisible door opened in the rock face. She shut her mouth, her eyes blowing wide. Oh. That explained that. Their base was hidden in plain sight. Which…she supposed was fitting, for alien robots who disguised themselves as cars and jets. Smokescreen took them through a tunnel, and then they were coming into a large central chamber. Sierra peeked out if the window to see two other robots there. One, stocky and painted in red and white. The other…was absolutely massive. He towered above the red and white bot, and she had a feeling he’d tower over Smokescreen too. He was broad as he was tall, with wide shoulders and a heavy looking chest, his metal armor painted in red and blue. Sierra didn’t know how she knew, but she just knew that this large one was a he, a mech, as Smokescreen had said.

The door at her side popped open, and after brief hesitation she unbuckled herself and stood up. There was that sound of transformation behind her, and she glanced back to see Smokescreen rising to his feet in his robot mode. Then a voice spoke and she snapped her head around to see the large bot speaking.

“Greetings, young one. My name is Optimus Prime. My companion is Ratchet, and you have already met Smokescreen.”

Ratchet. That’s who Smokescreen had been talking to earlier. “I’m Sierra.” she said after a moment. “Sierra O’Niell.”

Optimus tilted his head downwards in her direction. “May I inquire why Starscream was attempting to abduct you, if you know?”

“You’re very polite.” she remarked dryly. “He said something about wanting to use me to get to Jack Darby, so that he could in turn use Jack to get to the “Autobots”. I’m guessing that’s you guys?”

Optimus shared a look with Ratchet, then looked back at her. “Indeed. Myself and my team are Autobots. Starscream is a Decepticon. Our factions are enemies, I am afraid.” he explained. “We are not from your world, Sierra O’Niell. We hail from a planet called Cybertron. Our two factions were at War on our home, and that War destroyed our world. The Deceptions came here, searching for energon, and we have followed them to keep them from destroying your planet and it’s people in their quest for it.”

Sierra turned that over. She’d guessed they weren’t from Earth, so that wasn’t a surprise. The rest of the information was new, though. And appreciated. “What’s energon? And how does Jack fit into all this?”

Optimus sighed. “Energon is an energy source, and the very lifeblood of every Cybertronian.” he explained. “It is a natural resource that was once common on our home, and somehow Earth too produces it in great abundance.” he explained. “Jackson, Miko, and Raphael became involved with us by accident. They were seen with my Autobots when they mistakenly were pulled into a battle with the Decepticons, and the Decepticons assumed they were our allies. In order to protect them, we took them under our watch and guard to ensure they could not be harmed.”

So, Esquivel and Nakadai were part of this too. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d seen the cars that picked those two up, now that she thought of it. Speaking of which….

“Jack’s motorcycle is an Autobot, isn’t it? And Miko and Raphael’s cars?”

Optimus hummed. “Indeed. Arcee, Bumblee, and Bulkhead were the ones to initially partner with and save the children in that first encounter. After they were brought into the fold, it made only sense to assign them as their Autobot guardians.”

Sierra nodded as she took that all in. Then she frowned. “I’m involved now too, aren’t I? I would have been involved regardless, if the Decepticons were really after me, but Smokescreen saving me just means my involvement is going to be more pleasant than it otherwise would have been.”

Optimus and Ratchet shared yet another look, before casting their gazes to Smokescreen. The white bot fidgeted under their combined stares, head ducking and looking uncomfortable. “While we are not pleased that the youngling acted on impulse and charged into battle against protocol, we are pleased that he saved your life, young Sierra.” Optimus said after a moment.

Sierra blinked. “Youngling.” she repeated in confusion. Then she narrowed her eyes. “You’re not getting him into trouble for saving me, are you?” she asked heatedly. The very idea insulted her.

Optimus twitched as if startled, then rumbled a soft chuckle. “Youngling, yes. It is a term used by Cybertronians to refer to those of us who are not yet fully grown. Smokescreen is the equivalent of a human teenager.” he explained. “And worry not. In this instance, we can overlook the breach in regulations. It would send a poor message to punish a bot for upholding the Autobot creed.”

Sierra relaxed at that, nodding. Then she narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to want to have a discussion with you later about why you’re letting teenagers fight in a war, but I know now isn’t the time.” she said threateningly.

Both older bots startled back and her tone and words, and Smokescreen squeaked from behind her. She turned and drew a harsh line across her mouth before he could say anything, and she watched as he stared, slack-jawed, before closing his mouth with an audible clack. That done, she returned her attention to the apparent leader. There was one more thing she wanted settled.

“You said the others got guardians, right?”

A nod.

“Well, if I’m going to need one, and something tells me I will, then I want this one.” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at Smokescreen.

Optimus’s eyes narrowed in what she realized was a faint smile. “If Smokescreen agrees, then I have no issues with that.” he hummed. “All I ask is that you remain here until our liaison with the human government arrives. Agent Fowler will want to discuss some matters with you before you return home.”

Sierra blinked. So the government knew about all this. That was good to know. It meant she wouldn’t get in trouble for conspiring with aliens if it ever came to light. She could also understand why they kept this whole thing a secret, even if governments hiding things from the public wasn’t always a good thing. In this case, it was a good thing.

“As long as I’m home before my curfew.” she agreed.

Another bow of that great head, and then Optimus was turning to stride away. Presumably to make contact with this Fowler. That left her and Smokescreen with Ratchet.

The stocky bot glanced at them, then turned to that odd console she’d noticed earlier. “Smokescreen will show you around.” Was all he said, waving them away with a dismissive flip of his hand.

Sierra, taking that as her cue, turned to the youngest bot. She thrust out her hand. “What do you say? Partners?”

He seemed confused, before slowly crouching and extending his hand to tap a finger to her palm. “Yeah, sure.” he seemed a little awed that she’d want to partner with him.

She smiled. “Good. In that case, why don’t you give me a ride and show me around your base?”

Smokescreen seemed confused. “Ride?”

“On your shoulder. I’d like to see it from your perspective.”

He blinked, then shrugged and put his hand, palm up, on the floor. Sierra took that as her que to climb up, and he carefully transferred her to his shoulder. Cool. Very cool. She just wanted to ride on the giant alien robot, and now she got to. That was cool.

She saw him look at her out of the corner of his bright, shining blue eyes, and she smiled warmly. “Well? Show me around your home, big guy. I’d like to get to know you.”

Smokescreen perked up, the little protrusions on his back wiggling with his apparent joy, and Sierra grinned a little wider. Oh, he was cute. How a giant robot could be endearing, she didn’t know, but he did it. He was sort of like a puppy. A giant, metal, alien puppy. She held on as he started walking, and she listened with half an ear, processing and noting what he told her as the rest of her mind turned over the events of her day.

It had been stressful, and scary, but now that it was all done and she was fine…

‘Yeah.’ she thought, watching her new partner eagerly show her around the small, hidden base he called home. ‘I think I’m gonna like it here.’

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And that was that! I hoped you like it! It was fun to write. The show didn’t give Sierra a last name or a real personality, so I had to kind of do that bit myself. And I was right! I did enjoy writing this. The prompt inspired me to write this faster than I thought I’d be able to. I do not expect to be able to fill a prompt this quickly again. Unfortunately. Also, Sierra is definitely going to be the straight man to Smokescreen. He’s going to need it. Badly.

Until next time, friends!

#silkling request fics #request fic #tfp #transformers prime #tfp sierra #tfp starscream #tfp smokescreen #smokescreen #tfp optimus prime #Sierra joins Team Prime #smokescreen is her partner #maccadam

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plus-size-reader · 4 years ago

Text

Those Eyes

Bucky Barnes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1605 words

Warnings: A bit of an AU so keep that in mind

Summary: You knew there was something familiar about the man

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You still had nightmares about the day your parents were murdered.

At the time, you had been a kid, no more than six years old, but you still couldn't get the memory out of your head. You were supposed to go with them, while your older brother Tony stayed behind but they never made it to the Bahamas.

When the car crashed, you had been asleep though you woke rather quickly when the car jolted to a stop.

The events that followed were a blur now, but there was one thing you remembered. There was a man there, a man who you had never been able to forget. When the car slammed into the hill, you slipped down behind your mother's seat, just as your father whispered for you to do.

Looking back, it was clear to you that he knew they were going to die, but he thought perhaps in trying to hide you, you may be spared.

You heard your mother shriek your father's name once or twice as he was struck, then she was killed shortly after. At that age, experiencing a car crash and a double homicide was too much to handle, which resulted in several developmental struggles growing up.

All you remembered was looking up and coming face to face with the man who killed your parents, though most of his face was covered with a dark mask. At this point in your life, you only remembered one thing

...Those blue eyes.

No matter what you did, you couldn't get that image out of your head.

For some reason, you had made it your personal business, even at that time to recall that one thing to memory. It was as if you thought a pair of eyes would be able to help you identify the person who murdered your parents.

Still, as foolish as it seemed, you couldn't help but see them everywhere. When you dreamed, you tried to recall any other details, but all that was left were those eyes.

For the life of you, you couldn't recall anything other than that. Maybe that was the reason you kept it to yourself, when you finally did realize what happened that night, many years later. After you were sure that man had left, you got out of the car and started walking down the road.

It wasn't long before a nice older couple picked you up and drove you to the hospital where you were positively identified and they called your brother, seventeen at the time.

Several people visited for the next few days, asking you questions about what had happened, but you had no idea. Eventually, they concluded it was an fatal car accident and the trauma had just affected you more than anything else.

For a long time after that, you didn't talk to anybody other than Tony at all, and while you'd come a long way since then, the nightmares had yet to stop.

In fact, you managed to do really well for yourself as an adult, using your above average I.Q and inheritance that you inherited to get several degrees in microbiology and chemical science.

He had always had much more of that dramatic flair, while you chose to focus more on the physical mediums and functionality of it all. However, as busy as you were being a creative genius, Tony was quick to bring you in on the Avenger's initiative.

It was just something that seemed so obvious to him.

S.H.I.E.L.D and more specifically, everything that the Avengers stood for had been your father's pet project and was in many ways, his legacy. There was no way he was going to be able to partake in that without his Brainiac little sister.

In general, you kept to yourself, helping out remotely or technically but something like a threat to national security was the kind of thing you had to get in on. There was no way that you were going to be there through facetime and scattered texts.

So, you got a flight.

That was how you met the rest of the Avengers, and in turn, The Winter Soldier.

The first person who greeted you at the door was Pepper, who you had begun to regard as a friend as well as the sister you'd never had. "Hey, you made it" she smiled, reaching you in a huge hug.

You only smiled, setting down your bags to envelop her fully, greeted fully by the smell of her lilac perfume that she wore almost every day. It was the same as every other time you'd been around her, but it felt like home in a lot of ways.

In your life, few things brought you that comfort of home so you took it where you could get it. It was the same feeling you had when you hugged Tony and smelled the mix of expensive cologne and bourbon on him.

That reminded you of your father.

"It was a bit of a flight but I'm glad I got in before midnight" you grinned, separating from her after a few seconds and turning toward the small crowd that had gathered behind her in your greeting.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" you heard, only getting a few seconds warning before your older brother tackled you in an equally huge hug, not even bothering to keep from nearly knocking you off your feet.

He hadn't seen you in months and for the two of you, that was far too long. Growing up, you had been nearly inseparable, even with the age gap between you with Tony practically raising you. In a lot of ways, it felt right to be here again, even with all that had changed.

...Even with that huge group of strangers right behind you.

"Tony, are you going to introduce me to all your friends?" you asked, doing the socially acceptable thing, even though you had read all there was to read about every single person here.

The only complete and total strange was the dark haired man in the back, leaning against the wall. You had no clue who he was, but you thought it best to just wait until he was introduced to you to admit that.

"Everyone, this is my sister. Sister, this is everyone" he winked, earning an eyeroll from you. Of course he wasn't just going to react normally to this sort of situation. He had to make everything so much more difficult than it had to be.

You smiled, an awkward little wave all you could come up with now that the pressure was on. It made you want to crawl into a hole and never leave, but luckily, everyone seemed to be just as gentle as possible.

If nothing else, they respected you.

"You've been studying my DNA, isn't that right?" Steve piped up, thinking back to when Tony had asked him for a blood sample, citing something about his nerdy little sister trying to figure out what made him the way he was.

You nodded, doing your very best to ignore the strangeness of the sentence. It was true that Howard had raised you with a bit of a super soldier obsession and you'd been determined to crack the code to the serum since you were fourteen.

"Yeah, it's a slow process but I'm making progress nonetheless" you allowed, smiling as a way to somehow convey how thankful you were that he allowed such a strange request with minimal judgement.

Someone had come up with a successful serum all those years ago, when the technology was far less advanced, so there was no reason you shouldn't be able to reverse engineer it with your current skill.

It was just going to take time.

"Well, maybe you could take a look at Bucky under a microscope. A second trial couldn't hurt, right?" the blonde suggested then, and as much as you didn't really want to talk to the mystery man in the corner, Steve was right.

More data was always a good thing, and these two men where the only living specimen for your project. If you had a chance to survey him, it would be in your best interest to do so.

"There you go. We'll just keep you busy while you're here so you can't leave" Tony chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your cheek before heading to the other side of the room, down a long hallway.

At first, you didn't venture to follow him, assuming he was just going to go get something but that changed rather quickly when he turned back to you.

"Come on, I've been working on a surprise for you"

...And a surprise it was.

You followed your brother down the long hallway to the final door on the end, where you found a huge lab. It was beautiful, and with the mounting promise of more data just on the horizon, you couldn't wait to get to work.

"I'll leave you to it. Love you kid" he hummed, leaving without so much more to you, which left you with the dark haired man. You had yet to get a good look at him yet, intimidated by his hulking, musclebound frame.

It wasn't until you spun around to ask him if he actually wanted to give you a blood sample that you stopped in your tracks, dropping the test tubes you'd been fiddling with to the floor. The glass shattered at your feet immediately but you hardly noticed.

As soon as you turned toward him, you once again came face to face with those blue eyes that haunted you.

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studiesinmodernmovement · 3 years ago

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okay okay i never thought i’d end up making a tumblr but, here we are. these two idiots broke me, i swear. Anyways, here are my top three trobed songs and analysis on Why lol:

1. We’re Going to Be Friends - The White Stripes.

Okay hear me out. I know they’re not little kids just becoming friends in kindergarten, BUT this song is so incredibly soft and cute for a “fell-in-love-with-my-best-friend” song. It just fits them, really. I mean, “We will rest upon the ground / And look at all the bugs we found / Safely walk to school without a sound” if that’s not peak repressed season one trobed then idk what is. They’re in love your honor. “Here we are, no one else / We walk to school all by ourselves / There’s dirt on our uniforms / From chasing all the ants and worms / We clean up and now its time to learn” They’re together, and honestly that’s all that matters to them. They have a beautiful friendship going on, they have fun together and they don’t care what anyone else thinks. They just need each other to be happy. “Playtime we will throw the ball / Back to class, through the hall / Teacher marks our height against the wall” They’re growing up together, and people realize. Not that it matters to them, though. They have their own little world. “And we don’t notice any time pass / We don’t notice anything / We sit side by side in every class / Teacher thinks that i sound funny / But she likes the way you sing” They’re so blinded by their love for each other that the rest of the world is just a blurry mess. Nothing matters but being together and basking in their relationship. They just want to be with each other, any chance they get. They are Gay.

2. Young Folks - Peter Bjorn and John.

Shut up this song is so fluffy trobed it actually hurts. Everything about it. “If i told you things i did before / Tell you how i used to be / Would you go along with someone like me?” We all know Troy was a huge jock in high school, and he probably took part in the whole shoving-weird-kids-into-lockers thing. Maybe he’s nervous about Abed thinking differently of him, and he wonders if they would still be friends had Abed known him in high school. “It doesn’t matter what you did / Who you were hanging with / We could stick around and see this night through” Abed doesn’t care who Troy used to be, he’s changed and thats partly thanks to him actually letting him be himself. Troy had to be like that in high school, that’s what was expected from him, being a football player and all of that crap. Abed knows the real Troy, and so his past doesn’t really matter to him. He likes present Troy, and that’s what’s important. “Usually when things have gone this far / People tend to dissapear / No one will surprise me unless you do” Abed is used to people leaving when they realize they can’t “fix” him. They think he’s too weird, or he’s not capable of human emotion, or simply that he’s not right in the head. But not Troy. Troy sticks around and listens to him infodumping about Kickpuncher and Batman and Cougar Town and Inspector Spacetime. He’s patient, and he actually listens to him. Him looking like a lovesick puppy never registers in Abed’s mind. “And we don’t care about the young folks / Talking bout their young style / And we don’t care about the old folks / Talking bout their old style too / And we don’t care about their own faults / Talking bout our own style / All that we care about is talking / Talking only me and you” Troy and Abed are aware that people talk about them. They’re aware that they’re different from everyone else, but they don’t really care. They just care about being together, any way they can.

3. The Adults Are Talking - The Strokes.

Look, i could go on for hours analyzing this song and how i think its a perfect fit for trobed, but, for the sake of simplicity, i’ll keep it short. So like first of all just the name of the song. The Adults Are Talking. How many times have Troy and Abed been referred to as children by other people? Everyone thinks they’re immature, and im pretty sure that in any serious conversation they would get stepped on. People are just crappy like that. Then we have the chorus, “Don’t go there ‘cause you’ll never return / I know you think of me when you think of her / But then it don’t make sense when you’re trying hard / To do the right thing but without recompense / And then you did something wrong and you said it was great / And now you don’t know how you could ever complain / Because you’re all confused ‘cause you want me too / But then you want me to do it the same as you” like dude. DUDE. This is clearly about Troy going on that stupid boat (I hate that boat i hate it i hate it so much. Thats another post though.) and Abed staying behind. I mean, we all kinda know that Abed is scared of Troy never returning, after all it is a possibility, and it must be heartbreaking. Then we have the whole Britta thing, that was comphet and i’ll die on this hill. There is no way that Troy didn’t think about Abed everytime he thought about his relationship with Britta, it’s actually shown in several episodes that he was constantly worried about Abed even when he actually was with Britta physically. So, thats canon. If i think that he was secretly pining over Abed and wishing that He was the one he was kissing then that’s on me i guess. Then back to Troy’s trip, he thought it was the right thing to do, and he’s trying. He’s trying so hard to find himself, find out who he really is and what that means for everything in his life. He has to become his own man, or whatever P*erce said (screw P*erce i hate him so much man), but he’s struggling. He looked so sure getting on that boat, but it would be unrealistic not to assume that he misses everyone. The Study Group, Neil, even Leonard. And of course, Abed. Was it really worth it to give all of that up? But of course he can’t complain, he’s gonna win millions of dollars!! well screw money and screw capitalism he found his soulmate you fucking asshole oh my god i hate P*erce. Anyways i could go on for hours about this song but im gonna stop now. Maybe i’ll make a separate post about it. Maybe.

Anyways that was me dumping my thoughts and love for music onto all of you. Bye bye.

#trobed #troy barnes #abed nadir #idk how to use tumblr and at this point im too afraid to ask #theyre gay your honor #is this enough tags #community

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curious-menace · 4 years ago

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Can you do headcanons of any Riddler getting cared for and gentle kisses from reader after getting beat up? He needs some loves.

SO I MAY HAVE SUGGESTED THAT MY ULTIMATE FANTASY IS TO GIVE RIDDLER A HUG WITH BACKRUBS AS HE TELLS ME ABOUT HIS DAY AND I STAND BY THAT WHOLE-HEARTEDLY .

i freaking love this stuff so im going to do all of them mwahahah

post asswoop riddlers getting loves

Arkham riddler

He’s VERY quiet, which knowing him and his inability to stop talking, is bad news.

I paint arkham riddler as a cry baby and i stand by that. this is the hill i will die on. He’ll have dragged his sorry ass into your apartment or house , dripping blood on your floors but he wont bother calling for you. he’ll just sit at the table with his head in his hands having a lil pity party until you find him.

when you do finally get home, he’ll be looking like a kicked puppy. he’s gotten stuck in his own head, mentally beating himself up even more. he got a fright when you came in because he was so caught up he didn't even hear you at the door.

He’s literally sits there like a child with his arms up for you to come scoop him up. he’s not even sure why his first thought after getting beat up was to come here, he’s probably lead the cops here or something and that was so stupid and- you should probably give him a lil soft smooch on the head to stop him before he goes into a spiral.

he needs more emotional and mental care than physical. Talk to him while you're patching him up. any topic, it doesn't matter just keep him focused on your voice and not the one in his head calling him dumb.

he wont admit he wants to be held and coddled after something like this. get your softest blankie and 2 mugs of coco with marshmallows and just ramble at him. tell him about your day or ask him to explain something boring and complicated so he’s focusing on that rather than how upset he is. let him sit on your lap or between your legs on the sofa and watch how its made or mythbusters or something until he falls asleep. he should be ok again in the morning, he doesnt stay down for long.

Blacklight Riddler

He’s used to getting his ass kicked, either by batman, the other rogues or once he’s a PI, by unhappy clients and the people he put away. He might be tiny but he’s pretty tough.

even if he’s really hurting, his probably trying to crack jokes and tell blood and bruise related riddles. He doesn't like to see you worry so even if he’s in a lot of pain or a bit upset about things, he’s trying to make you smile.

he likes kisses on his bruises. even if he just banged his hand on the table he’ll come to you because he wants you to kiss it better.

He’s a decent fighter, unlike a lot of riddlers who couldnt fight their way out of a paper bag. He can throw punches but he lacks in defence and with his bad knee, dodging can be a little hard. even if he wins the fight he’s still likely to need you to patch him up.

He likes kids plasters. like hello kitty and spongebob. no im not joking, he ALWAYS wanted them when he was little and his parents always said no. now he’s an adult he’s going to use them whenever he damn well pleases.

if it was a particularly bad one, he’ll be ok in the moment even if he has to go to hospital. But he’s going to drop the facade at some point and let you see how upset he is. winding up in hospital after being beat was a common occurrence in childhood. even after doing it time and time again as an adult it doesn't make it any easier on him. he’ll want to stay in your bed, be close to you for few days until either he starts to heal or something snaps him out of his funk.

BTAS Riddler

he really prefers other people to do the fighting for him. well physically anyway. he can handle his own arguments...most of the time. He’s going to need you to nurse a bruised ego more than anything. he probably got dunked on my batman or crane and now he’s huffing.

i don't know if this counts as care and kisses but he clearly needs you around to keep his sorry ass alive. he hurt his side in a fight once and said he wasn't hurt. believable... until he started to act a little confused, a little dizzy. needless to say it worried you enough to take him to emergency care.

He was obviously in agony by now but he was still fighting with you the entire drive there, insulting you and insisting he was fine. its a good job you took him when he did, turns out he’d ruptured his spleen and would probably be dead if you weren’t around to act like his common sense.

he still hasnt apologised for that. or any of the other times you insisted on medical care to stop him from pushing up daisies. he just pretends like you know he’s grateful so he doenst have to admit he’s bullheaded, stubborn and worst of all, wrong.

if he has been seriously hurt, he acts more indignant about it than anything. he wants to be waited on and pampered while resting in bed. he can be a genuine pain to deal with, talking about how lucky you are to see him in such a vulnerable state and how you should be grateful he’s letting you do this for him.

He doesn't want to admit how much he actually needs you. his goons wont put up with him when he’s like this and he’s freaking paying them to do it. you do it for free and no matter how annoying he is you havent left him yet. he doesn't tell you but youve noticed he starts getting you more gifts about a week after he’s recovered. like its taken him a day or two to work out he should probably thank you for all you do.

Original Riddler

this riddler is just weird. like he gets a freaking hang nail and he pretends like he’s dying. but he could nearly lose a limb and he’ll say “tis but a scratch” and still try to hobble about like nothing is wrong.

actually he’s more like olaf “oh look i've been impaled.”. he probably tries to laugh off life threatening injuries like its nothing, taking maybe 3 steps before he collapses on his face in a blood puddle and lets out a tiny “help”

good luck moving his tall lanky ass around. better get a gurney and maybe those vets at the zoo who deal with giraffes. seriously if you want to take care of him you are going to need help or some sort of action plan and a go bag because with his limp butt this will not be easy.

he’s kinda like BTAS riddler in that he needs you to tell him the injury is serious. hes not dumb he just has a high pain threshold and genuinely doesn't realise that injuries are as bad as they are.

he can be a bit of a baby while being patched up. he doesn't like a lot of blood or gore, it makes him feel a little sicky. better give him your phone to play with like a kid at the doctors or put the tv on for him to watch while you bandage him. word of warning, he will pass out or throw up if you try to give him stitches.

i think you should focus your love and attention on him AFTER medical care. just focus on the job, be silent and as fast as possible to get it over with quickly. you should probably bring him something sweet too. no not just you, although you are sweet for looking after him. give him something sugary because he’s going to be light headed after seeing any blood. maybe you could give him a lolly for being a good patient.

Telltale riddler

this riddler is essentially a metahuman. he can REALLY take a beating and bounce back fairly quickly. just look how many times batman punched him in the face and it barely stunned him! he doesnt usually need patched up after a fight. maybe just a lil smooch and some hugs

he did really need your help after the whole pact thing. having his friends abandon him hurt like hell, more than any physical injury ever could.

after that, he clings to you. almost obsessively so; we know he’s got some serious mental illnesses but he usually has the worst of it under control, even without meds. now? it seems like he’s experiencing ptsd and is afraid to go anywhere without you, like you might up and disappear if you arent in his line of sight at all times.

i think this riddler might need the most intense care from you. hugs and gentle reassurance wont be enough. you’re going to be responsible for taking him to therapy, keeping him taking his meds and grounding him to reality. this is the kind of responsibility you took on when you got involved with him but i doubt you realised how hard it would be. i cant promise it will all be worth it but i can promise he wont ever forget your kindness.

the kind of care he needs after such a hard knocking down is just stability. im not one for romance or any mushy gushy stuff but please just pour your love into the cracks in this poor mans soul.

its hard going, but he has his moments. his gallows sense of humor is still there and hey, after him being in and out and gone for so long, it might be nice to have him around more.

Zero year riddler

INSUFFERABLE LITTLE SHIT THIS ONE. he could LITERALLY be bleeding out in your arms and he’d STILL be backseat driving on your medical skills. the temptation to just leave him there to bleed is INCREDIBLE.

he’ll drop the act eventually. he’ll ask and maybe even beg for your help. man has no shame and all the self preservation instincts of a lemming. dont get me wrong, he can be a total coward some times, only looking out for himself . but when he’s actually hurt ? not a fuckin clue. does this head wound need an ice pack or heat pack? is this spurring blood wound worthy of medical care? no idea. he was a very sheltered child who never got so much as a bruise so he has no idea what to do when he’s hurt.

he gets the everloving shit kicked out of him on a clockwork basis. like you could hear knocking on your door at 3 am and already be at the table with a first aid kit like oh its tuesday riddler must have broken his nose.

he takes entirely too much joy in making you patch him up. youre starting to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose just to see you in your little apron and latex gloves . he’s getting off on this and you know it but god help you, you just cant resist his dumb face asking for your help and would you also wear this pink nurses outfit while youre at it?

one time he lost a LOT of blood. he would be fine but he was pretty damn loopy from lightheadedness. while you were trying to get him into bed to rest he started flirting with you. can you believe the audacity? he’s lost 3 pints of blood and he’s still more focus on his libido?

he’s actually going to be both humble and grateful for your help when he finally comes round. dont get me wrong, he’s still a bit of a prick but at least he says thank you for saving him before he demands you kiss all his booboos and ouchies.

nonnie i am having a stroke. i was trying SO hard to just pick one but i COULDNT because i am WEAK for hurt and comfort.

theres a reason i have a tag that literally says “i have naughty hands and no self control”

someone needs to stage an intervention

got something you wana talk about? send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜

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