#in a way?? depending on how you read caretaker in this

[catchildren]

Obsessed with Caretaker & Whumper relationships as of late. Caretaker acting as Whumper's right hand, hanging off every word they say, engrossed in the ideology they spew out. Whumper is their idol, their mentor, the one person they trust more than anything. So when Whumper says that Whumpee is dangerous and not to be trusted, when Whumper says Whumpee deserves the abuse, the trauma, the wounds - Caretaker believes them... at first, anyway.

But how long can you go before you start to humanize the battered and bleeding body in front of you? When you start sneaking extra meals, cleaning wounds before they get infected, lingering for longer while having thought provoking conversations? When they stopped being a threat and started being someone they desired, so deeply, to protect?

Caretaker trusted Whumper, and maybe they still do. They just began to trust Whumpee more.

[dunmeshistash]

Why did Milsiril adopt Kabru

Milsiril might be one of the most misunderstood characters in dungeon meshi and I see people making assumptions of why she adopted Kabru based only on their races and not in the characterization, so I wanted to think about some of the "theories" I see the most often about what made her take him in and why I don't agree with them

(read more cause as usual I ranted a lot)

1 - Attention (white elf savior)

This is the one I have the hardest time understanding so I'm starting with it, I've seen people compare Milsiril to irl white wealthy women that adopt "exotic" kids to keep an altruistic appearance. Like a white mother adopting a chinese child because of white savior complex and for everyone to compliment them on how good they are but this idea ignores a core aspect of Milsiril: she doesn't like attention of her peers

Her bio reads: "The people around her teased her, calling her Gloomy Milsiril; partly as a result, she hates elves. (...) She secluded herself deep in the mountains and intentionally lives apart from other elves"

Milsiril is the type of person that has trauma related to her own kin, she was ostracized by everyone including her own family that sent her to the canaries, and as a result she herself refuses to engage with them even when they extend a hand as you can see with past Mithrun. The only other elf she's seen speaking to is Mithrun when he's sick and Helki. Her interest in raising short lived kids isn't seen as altruistic by other elves it's seen as another weird side of her so there's no incentive in elf society for her to do that. So she didn't adopt Kabru because of optics, she clearly doesn't care what other elves think of her and she hid herself from their judging eyes as soon as she was able to.

2 - She wants to feel superior to someone

Another one I find baffling but I can understand a little better since she's constantly seen in the caretaker role. But the evidence I see for this is literally the type of people she surrounds herself with.

The people we know she interacts with willingly are:

Her adopted short lived children

One of her prisoner partners (Helki)

Mithrun when he's in recovery

Based on these I can see how a very uncharitable view can interpret as "she surrounds herself with people that she's superior to" and it is somewhat true. But she's never shown mistreating or actually acting superior to any of them, if anything Helki is constantly hanging out around her (he was pardoned after Utaya and might be her servant now but their interactions seem very casual), Kabru says she teaches her children everything they want to know and she eventually let him go even if before she was hesitant to (as a overprotective parent) and Mithrun was still a noble with several servants when she cared for him so even if he was sick socially he was still the same. (considering both are noble outcasts)

The evidence both for and against the idea that she adopts children to surround herself with people "inferior" to her are all circumstantial so I guess it depends on how you want to see it. I myself think there's no evidence she thinks of them as inferior considering all we see she seems to treat them either as her babies (would you word your feelings for a baby as them being inferior to you?) or as someone she wants to nurture

3 - She wants to be in control of someone (Kabru is her doll)

Related to the above reason but slightly different, in this interpretation I see people assume she doesn't see Kabru as his own person but as one of her dolls to be controlled. As if she raises her children so she can play house and dress up with human dolls.

Honestly that's pretty cool and an amazing visual for an evil mom but there's zero evidence that that's the case. Starting with her actual dolls themselves they aren't dress up dolls or something she puppeteers in an evil way, they're literally her comfort toys she runs to when she's sad

She's making them by hand while crying cause she feels like she doesn't belong, her bio says the dolls are her only friends so it makes me a little sad when people act like her doll hobby is somehow a creepy aspect that makes her seem evil, since that's exactly how the elves think of her (creepy and gloomy)

Milsiril is clearly someone that enjoys taking care of others we see it both with her children and with Mithrun, but how to know if that's actual altruism or some twisted sense of superiority? How to know if she isn't the toxic nurse that just wants to be in power of someone? How to know she is actually helping the people she cares for?

Easy, she helped them until they didn't need her anymore.

She trained Kabru and taught him everything he knows, he's where he is because he had her help even if at first she wanted to prove he wasn't strong enough to go, he was. She sees Kabru as a small child because of their race differences but she still respected him enough to take the training seriously.

Mithrun actually recovered once she could take the time to help him, I keep reminding it but it was years after he was rescued that she went to help with his recovery (his bio says Utaya was what motivated him to finally come back and she was the one that went to tell him about Utaya and help out) right now Mithrun is able to follow a routine and live by himself, Milsiril isn't even someone he talks about as he is now.

Both people we know she cared for are completely independent of her now and neither of them even thinks about her much. A controlling person that wants to keep you within their grasp and keep you needing them would never actually help you be independent of them.

4 - Then why did she adopt Kabru?

I think it's an easy answer the way I see it: shared trauma.

What Kabru went thru is 100 times worse than what Milsiril went thru during Utaya, especially since he was just a small child back then and he lost everything, But Milsiril is still a war veteran, the things Kabru describes, people turning into monsters eating the others, all the death and destruction, Milsiril was there to witness it all and she failed to save them. her bio reads "After the incident in Utaya, she left the Canaries in disgust. She secluded herself deep in the mountains and intentionally lives apart from other elves" she was so traumatized by the events she both left "in disgust" and became a hikikomori. Earlier in her bio it also says "(...) The people around her teased her (...) partly as a result, she hates elves" I sure wonder what's the other part that makes her hate elves. (Probably is the way they dealt with Utaya)

I think she adopted Kabru because she wanted to give a good life to the only survival of the war she fought, the other destiny Kabru could have has would be the same Rin had, a traumatizing stay with the elves, Milsiril saved him from that fate when she adopted him. He wasn't a random brown kid she picked up, they share a traumatizing experience (once again: even if it was 100 times worse for Kabru).

The reason she adopted the other kids is also pretty obvious to me: she likes caring for people and she wants to feel loved. That's her ulterior motive to raise short lived children, she has elf trauma and she wants a family.

That doesn't make her a perfect mom or a perfect person tho*, she's just as flawed as anyone, I feel like people sometimes forget mothers are also human beings with flaws. Being flawed doesn't make her a monster, being loving doesn't make her an angel, she's just a person doing her best.

*She still has the ingrained elf socialization and clearly thinks of her children as babies, she treats teen Kabru almost like a toddler in some interactions. There's also the thing about her not fully understanding the importance of his cultural background. Struggles that I assume are common in interracial adoptions

Disclaimer cause this is the reading comprehension website: This is my interpretation of the character, some of it is very charitable towards Milsiril and I'm not talking about how Kabru might feel about her. I'm trying to think of their relationship thru her perspective and how she treated him because some interpretations seem to come out of nowhere to me. Kabru has complex feelings about elves and about his elf mom but overall I still think "overprotective foster mom" really summarizes his feelings. I don't think he resents her even with her flaws.

[forcedagere]

I personally really like the idea of Bill x Reader x Ford. This one kinda ties into my previous post, but it’s not required reading. I suppose this would be an AU where Ford accepted Bill’s offer during Weirdmaggedon, or something else went wrong resulting in Bill staying in power :)

Contents: forced age regression, yandere, implied mental manipulation

Whereas Bill is far from the best caretaker (though he tries, in his own way), Ford takes care to create a semblance of structure in your life. He doesn’t have tons of practical experience with children or little ones such as you, but he makes up for it with dedication. He takes to caring for you as if it were a newly discovered, fascinating field of study. In other words… He reads many, many books, and tries all kinds of things to figure out what you like best.

Ford is not entirely fond of the kind of dynamic you have with Bill. It's not because he doesn't want to be referred to with parental terms, that's simply a matter of preference, but that he insists on you being friends above anything else. Considering the dynamics at play here, Ford cannot help but view it…

"As simply pedagogically irresponsible, Bill." The triangle in question rolls his eye. "Oh, boohoo! Fancy McFancypants over here knows what’s up!” Bill glances at you from the corner of his eye. Seeing you crack a smile while you’re sketching away with your crayons, he’s encouraged. “You read one book on how to raise a kid, and now you wanna tell me what to do? Get lost. Kid, c'mon, prove him wrong-- I'm your favourite, right?" You look up from your latest piece of art. You are drawing all three of you, in fact. You're usually deaf to their arguments, it's such a constant that you've grown used to the noise and stopped viewing it as a threat. (Your daddy calls it 'bickering'; Billy, when daddy isn't listening, calls it 'flirting'. That makes you giggle.) But you don't like getting involved in it yourself! So you firmly shake your head, and drop the pacifier attached to your necklace to speak. "No favourites… I love you both," you say with the confidence only someone as little as you could have. Billy's eyelid flutters, and your daddy smiles.

To put it simply, Bill is the ‘fun, rule-breaking parent’ and Ford is… A little less that. One should not take Bill Cipher as the benchmark of taking good care of a human, though.

Ford will make sure your meals are more varied than the endless stream of candy that Bill feeds you, and get you tucked in for sleep at regular times, too. Compared to Bill, who enjoys playing games with you and ‘roughhousing’, Ford prefers calmer activities. He’s definitely up for the occasional board game, but, most of the time, he’ll read to you, make drawings upon requests (or give you lessons!), or toy around with science experiments safe for someone who gets the urge to put anything that looks interesting inside their mouth.

He might’ve taken you for an adventure or two outside, but… The world hasn’t been the same since Bill got his hands all over it. He may be technically immortal now. You decidedly are not, as far as he knows. Either way, he doubts that Bill would let you out of this room to begin with. He doesn’t have to ask to be able to know that. If there is any reason he would keep someone locked up the way he does with you, it must be because you have some form of special connection to him. Ford does not believe he would risk that.

Really, Ford isn’t stupid or blind. It’s not that he’s going along with all of this because he is ignorant of Bill’s manipulation of your mental state. Bill can call it a ‘nudge in the right direction’ all he wants. He’s keeping you regressed. But everything has changed. He has changed, and Ford doesn’t know if he made the right decision. He fears he hasn’t. (Somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, a Stanford must live who made a difference decision. Ford hopes he’s happy.)

Spending time in this little contained room, with something dependent on him and eager to be looked after by him, who doesn’t know better and never will… It’s not good, it’s the very definition of selfish, but it’s comforting to him. Grounding, in a sense. With an eternity of time left ahead of him and the foundations of his previous life all but crumbled, he has something steady to return to. It doesn’t matter how much he rationalizes it. It’s twisted and fucked up, plain and simple.

…He supposes he can understand why Bill finds him so amusing, even now.

A little whimper snaps him from the spiral of his thoughts. Your bottle is empty. He should get youa refill, then pull you back on his lap.

[depraved-love]

Alois Trancy X Mother Figure F!Reader

Self-indulgent content ahead you've been warned.

Honestly, I have no idea how you did this. Maybe you were looking for a job, or perhaps you stumbled upon his manor during a storm. Either way, you ended up in Alois's service.

It took a bit; he was very cautious around you. (It's been a while since he had a human servant.)

One night, you were behind on your duties and working overtime. You were just outside his door when he screamed in terror.

You ran to his side and found him breathing heavily, staring at the door as if a monster would storm in any second. But it was just you.

Used to looking after children, you acted on instinct. You sat next to him, took him in your arms, and ran your fingers through his hair. In a gentle, hushed tone, you asked, "What's wrong?"

In that moment, he didn't care if you were being fake; he just craved the feeling of being truly looked after. He didn't tell you what the nightmare was about, but from there, it all changed.

Day 1: He clung to you the whole day. (To his butler's astonishment and dismay.)

Day 4: You were to stop calling him "Your Highness." (Calling him Alois was faster anyway.)

Day 6: You lost all duties that didn't involve him.

Day 10: You moved into his room.

Day 15: He promoted you from your former role to his caretaker alongside Claude.

Day 30: You moved into his room.

Day 31: He started settling down, or so it seemed.

Day 90: "Mother! Help me get dressed!" It was a slip-up. He expected a big reaction, but when it didn't come, it became the norm. Other servants don't like the closeness you share but keep their mouths shut... for now...

From then on, Alois became dependent on you to an unhealthy degree.

He doesn't like you disciplining him much, but surprisingly he lets you, as long as it's not physical.

He developed a major co-sleeping issue. He can't help that your arms are so warm.

He won't admit it, but he likes when you actively baby him—when you say he's too young to handle something, when you wipe something off his cheek, and so on.

He might act a little more clumsy... not on purpose, of course... He didn't usually cry over a small cut or a scraped knee... well, he certainly changed.

You have your own kids? Great! Now he gets to have siblings again! He has to be the favorite, though.

His favorite activity is always going to be when you sit in the library with him in your lap and read him stories.

You can't heal him, but you help him get better and eventually live a happy life...

[Canon end] You were visiting your family when it happened... you only found the body... The guilt nearly killed you, but you lived through it. You never moved on. The image of the body of a boy you came to love haunts you. The most awful feeling, though, is the fact that you can't feel him. It's like someone or something locked his soul away so that you never can feel his presence again.

[tinydefector]

Not really a request but more of a ramble. Ive always been torn betweenn Cybertronians not really having any material instincts and just essentially knowing how to function since creation. Kinda like Steven Universe. They can be young and differ in how much knowledge they hold but overall they have the bases of how to function without any caretaker needing to be around. But then I immediately start shaking at the thought of them having even stronger instincts that humans. Maybe closer to animals that have come to accept a human as their own. Just picturing a cybertronain seeing someone who's carrying and immediately is distressed on how little protection our clothes offer. Nows theirs a bot who keeps hissing at those who get to close other humans included. Their plating is ruffled and if they are a seeker their wings are spread in a threatening manner. May you have the patience of a Saint if said seeker has a large trine because now they all share the same feral need to protect. A con that stumbles upon a lost child and immediately claims them as their sparkling.( if you wanted to make it a bit gross I can imagine they do a forced adoption the same ways farmers do sometimes. Where they just kinds cover a stray baby with the fluids of a mother to create that connection. Kinda gross but I can see it being used to further claim a child) They consider the biological parents of the child nothing more than food and shelter for their now sparkling. They try a coo and speak to the child in their natural tongue. A seeker that chirps and clicks its glossa. A grounder that does low hums and songs like a whale. Sorry for the long ramble haha. I just think the ideas of cybertronains either having no idea what instincts are but also the ideas of them drowning in them. Or meeting humans just relights their feral mindsets in any and every way.

I happen to really love both ideas a lot. I enjoy the idea of Cybertronians not understanding family or parental rolls, Forged sparks start off in smaller frames and slowly gain more framing as they get older. Instead, it works more like a mentor and apprentice side of things. They teach you how to do your job, keep your head down like Terminus with Megatron. Their race doesn't have a name for the connection they have so in turn they call each other friend, but intruth it's more than that but they don't know how to explain it or express it, they dont raise the younger one but they are their for special events such as plating ceremonies. To Megatron Terminus is an elder, someone to be respected for his knowledge and teachings. And they both care for each other, when Terminus us gravelly injured Megatron does everything he can to try and help him because he feels like he owes it to terminus for everything the older bot as done for him. It's a mutual benefit of a bond that's isn't family but also is much closer than friendship.

But on the other hand, I look at Optimus and Codexa, and I love the idea that I found this little bitlet and instantly went mother mode. Practically scoops him up out of a hotspot and takes him home with her. She's very attentive and is the one who even names him. In all aspects, he is her son, and she does everything she can to try and raise a good mech, and she does a wonderful job. She teaches him to read, sings to him, and each plating ceremony, she keeps a piece of his old plating similar to humans and baby teeth. She celebrates when he gets his first job as a Liberian because she put so much effort into making sure he had a comfortable job, not wanting him to struggle like so many other mechs less fortunate.

And then there is my headcanon for birthed sparklings, which differs depending on what frame type they are. They experience different behaviours. Grounders are in different sub sections

- Tanks: Megatron, Tarn, Warpath, Blitzwing

- Mine frames: Megatron, Terminus,

- Hauliers : Optimus Prime, Sentinel Prime, Ironhide, Ratchet, Inferno, Kup,

- Emergency services: Prowl, Ratchet, Pharma, inferno

- Battle Chargers: Ironhide, Hound, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Trailbreaker, wheeljack, Tracks,

- Praxian carters: Prowl, Bluestreak, skids, Smokescreen,

- speeders: Rodimus, Drift, Jazz, mirage, redalert, blurr, Tracks,

- mini vehicle: Bumblebee, Tailgate, grapple,

- Vosian Fliers (later Seeker's): Starscream, skywarp, Thundercracker, sunstorm, Nacelle and so on all of the Jets.

- Helimech: Whirl,

- aerial Shuttle: Cosmos, Omega Supreme, Senator Shockwave.

- Combiners: stuntacons, combaticons, constructicons

- Cassettes/ mini bots: Ravage, Rumble, Frenzy, Rewind, Lazerbeak, buzzsaw

- non Traditional frames: Rung,

- Non shifters:

There's a lot more but these just just who I can think off off the top of my head.

____

Tankers and Mine frames don't get the luxury of families or raising sparklings, most of them are cold constructs, and don't get a chance to see life outside of mines or duties they have been put into. But if given the chance they are actually very protective of a sparkling, they will fight to the death for their bitlet even if it isn't their. Their behaviour is very similar to a bear mother with their protectiveness of a child, human or cybertronian.

Megatron's optics focus on the tiny form in his lovers arms. If it were any other situation, people would think he is glaring at the tiny baby being placed again in his Chassis. "They have no plating or outer frame, no protection." He states while looking to his lover. "They are a baby, Megs, human babies don't have anything like sparklings, they are very fragile," they explain with a smile as they watch their child try and grab Megatron's large digits. His optics soften as he watches their child as the baby babbles and giggles up at him. It makes a switch inside his possessor flick. Nothing would ever hurt this child. He would make sure of it. A deep rumble leaves his chassis as he lets them play with his large servos. A laugh leaves his lover as they watch him. "You look like a grizzly bear with a cub," they chuckle as they lean up to press a kiss to the side of his helm.

Hauliers tend to see a random sparkling and go. "You're mine now, I'm going to warp you up in bubble wrap and keep you in my cab so no one can hurt you" Hauliers tend to be very attentive carriers/ Sires to adopted or sparked bitlets. A lot of Hauliers tend to be very nomadic in the rust sea moving inpacks. They tend to behave more like migrating herds when on cybertron, but those who live in the cities tend to make a very homey and comfortable for sparklings. But also they are the ones who panic the most when their child puts something in their mouth they shouldn't have.

Optimus chuckles as he watches his bitlet roam around. Playing with sticks and mud. He sits not far off watching them as they play his optics soften as they giggle and let out little buzzes of excitement as they find a new rock. "They seem to be enjoying their first proper road trip," His lover calls out as they walk their way over to him. Leaning down to press a kiss to his Helm. "They are very fascinated by a lot of things on Earth," he rumbles his optics, meeting his partners. "Can you really blame them, I remember a certain bot being very fascinated with Terra's fauna when we first arrived here," they tease him. Another squeal of delight comes from their sparkling as they begin trying to chew on a rock. Optimus let's out a slight noise of panic as he quickly moves towards them. "No, no, Bitlets, you can't eat that," he states while trying to pry the rock from the little ones' servos. They squeak and squeal in protest before eventually letting go of the rock. Another laugh leaves his lover as they watch the two.

A lot of emergency vehicles tend to not be the best for being parents. Mainly due to their work and just not having the time for a bitlet. But they are very attentive to those who do have them, trying to calm them and make sure that they aren't hurt and can make it back to their parents. A lot of the time, they will put up the disgruntled act of the dad who said they didn't want a cat, but then ends up with a child curled up on his chest as he works.

Praxian carters tend to act very similar to seeker, but with children and sparklings its as if they can feel where they are but have a tendency of paranoid when they can't see their little ones. Their door wings will flicker and twitch when they hear their children and will respond back with soothing little clicks. A lot of the time, they will carry their sparklings on their back between their door wings.

Prowl wasn't impressed with Sunstreaker or Sideswipe. The two young mech burst out into fits of laughter watching him with a human baby strapped to his chest. His wings flutter in dispair as they begin taking photos to send to every mech they know. "Oh Primus Prowl, when did you get yourself a bitlet!" They ask while also fauning over the baby who giggles and reaches out with grabby hands. Prowl let's out a slight,all collection of angry clicks as his optics narrow in on the twins. "I am looking after them as their parent had an important meeting today," he snaps as he begins walking, trying to outpace the twins as they continue shooting questions at him. "But you have them strapped to your chassis like they are battle gear!" Sunstreaker laughs, which earns him a smack up the side of the helm from Prowl. "They are too small and too young to be left to their own devices, and the safest place for them is where I know they are," he grumbles before slamming the door to his office shut.

Speedster are one of the cybertronians who tend to forget their child exist sometimes, having no awareness until they are like something is missing. Oh Primus, where is my Bitty!. They are very live fast die hard kinda mechs and it translates over to their child. They are very much the one who will proudly show off their child who is currently eating something they shouldn't be. But they are also one of the most cuddly with their child. Curling up with them to their chassis as they purr loudly.

"RODIMUS PRIME, DRIFT DEADLOCK WHATBARE YOU LETTING MY BITLET EAT!" their voice boomed as their optics narrowed in on the two speedsters and sparkling. Drift turns around in an instant. "I tried to stop them, I swear, but Roddy dared them," he states. Rodimus looks sheepishly at his lover as their sparkling laughs and shouts. "Told you I could!" The little one shouts in excitement, not carrying about the disappointed look from their other parent. "You timeout, you Decontamination spray Now, and You... I'm not angry, but I'm disappointed, " they state, which makes Rodimus face drop. "Nooo. That's worse!" He shouts only to have his bitlet laugh at his whining.

Seekers are the most parent of all cybertronians to the point that some trines work as a family system. Each seeker is a carrier to one seekling, but also being the sire to another or having one seeker who is the sire to two. But then their is the others who aren't spark bonded to others in their Trine, because tries can consist of siblings, cousins, parents or complete strangers so each trine is different. but the family works to train and care for all of them together. They speak in a pigeoned vosian, which is a mix of chirps, thrills, and other little vocial noises. They are also the most social. With large gatherings for sparklings to meet and also bond with others so that they can eventually find their own trine.

For example, I love the idea of Thundercracker and skywarp being brothers, but starscream is trine bonded with them.

Acid storm, Nova storm being a bonded couple who ended up with Sunstorm who is much younger who try care for as their sparkling.

Dirge, Thrust and ramjet who are all random Seeker's who became friends at a young age and are a trine but aren't together at all, they be the boys who go out on the town and wake up in their flat with a hangover and a random mech/ Seeker in their berth.

Nacelle trills lightly as the little seekers curled up in blankets and pillows. Wings fluttering in delight as he watches the little mechs curl up again each other. His two lovers chuckle softly, watching how me preens and chirps and thrills at his two little bitlets. One of his lovers moves closer to him, resting their helm against his backstruts as his wings flutter again. "They are just sleeping sweetspark you can step away. They aren't going anywhere," they call out to him. "I know, they are just..." he starts before his other lover calls back. "Fresh, I know and very you, but they are here finally, you don't have to stand guard all the time," They tease before leading him into the room towards the fluffed up berth. "I think that's enough playing guard for the night"

____________

Link to second part for Megatron

Link

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

@aquaioart

[stubz]

Pollix lazed on the beanbag in the reading area. The passing sun shining just so perfectly on the young tighalax. He rolled onto his stomach and kneaded the carpet below when he spotted something or rather someone.

Nova. The ship Captain's daughter and fellow tighalax is currently stalking something.

'It's like watching a newborn cub walking for the first time. She'd be the runt of any tighalax pack in the galaxy.'

Pollix really had nothing against the smaller cub but he just couldn't help himself from teasing and poking fun at her every now and then.

'She's 6 moons older than me but half my size! She's like one of those stuffies we have in the toy bin.' he giggled to himself.

Intrigued by what she was doing he looks to see what her target is.

His ears perk as does his posture.

Kim. One of their human caretakers/teachers. Currently cleaning up some blocks on the ground. Completely unaware of the small feline-like creature.

She pounces. The prey is caught. Sent tumbling to it's side, shrieking with laughter.

A successful hunt shrieks Athea also watching the "hunt".

'A successful hunt? Pfft, I get that they're comrades but how could Athea call that a hunt?' for Nova's hunt was something to be expected of when one was a fresh cub. To celebrate a hunt like this when you were 7 summers old? Unheard of.

But runts do take longer since they're often too weak for some summers to do this type of thing, he concluded.

Still, at their age they should be hunting prey that's much bigger than Kim. Something around Max's size.

"Pollix! I caught Kim, did you see?"

"I saw...you were very quiet. But remember to use what's around you. Like you could have hide behind the bookshelf to get even closer."

"Oh. That's so smart! Thanks Pollix, I'm going to practice on Kim again."

"Mmmm." he curled back onto the bean bag.

"Not impressed?"

"Your blocking the sun Athea," he whined looking up at the orc. "But no not really. I mean Kim is strong I guess but she's a human."

"What. Humans are strong, sometimes stronger than other apex species like us." Pollix scoffs

"Yeah but I knocked her down like a million times when we wrestled! So Nova's probably going to be able to knock her over at least once, or maybe Kim just let her." he finished as an afterthought.

"...Okay so maybe she let Nova knock her over but what if she also let you knock her over?"

<If there's one thing many know about Tighalaxes it's that they are very prideful of their hunts and wins. And to diminish said hunts and wins is to question their skills as a hunter. The fastest and easiest way to tick them off>

The cub puffs his fur and flicks his tail around angrily.

"Nu-uh."

"Yu-huh."

"No. I knocked her over because I'm stronger than her!"

"And so did Nova. So I guess Nova is also strong." she stares at him.

<Now for Orcs, what they're known for is their undying loyalty. Should you belittle or badmouth an Orc's friend within earshot of them be prepared for an argument or a swift blow to the face. Depends on the situation>

The young orc straightens to her full height while keeping her gaze with the tighalax cub. Who in return get's up and rises to his full height as well.

Standing at 5 feet tall both are easily larger than most other youngling species their age. Only 5 inches shy of their teacher Kim.

Only at the age 6.

"Why don't you try to tackle her?"

Startled they stop sizing each other up and turn to the human who managed sneak up on them.

Jasper. A human child their age. Almost a foot smaller than them.

"I do it all the time. It's fun and I get to see how strong I am by how much I can make Kim move!" he exclaims, "One time I managed to make her take a step."

"That could work."

"Huh?"

"If you can tackle Kim then I'll apologize and take it back. If you can't then that means that Nova is strong too."

"Alright. But I'm doing it the proper way. Not when she's crouched down. That'd be too easy."

"Whatever."

..

'A real hunter should rely on their strength and instincts. Not just hiding and sneak attacks.'

He stalks towards Kim who's standing in the middle of the room doing a head count.

He picks up the pace. Her back is still to him.

He's broken into a run now. Normally he should wait till he's closer but he's just trying to tackle her so it's fine. She hears him.

He's at full speed and mere seconds away. Athea will be saying sorry to him very soon. She turns sideways and widens her feet.

He lunges. She's smiling.

To Athea and everyone else watching it was like watching a bouncy ball hit a wall. The cub made impact only to bounce off the human onto the floor.

"OH SHOOT!" Kim picks him and sets him on his back paws. "Are you okay? I'm sorry I didn't think you'd bounce like that."

"..." could she always pick him up that easily?

"You look okay, Pollix are you hurt anywhere?" he shakes his head.

"Well that's good. Sorry about that buddy," she chuckles. "I thought since your a lot bigger than Jasper and Nova that you'd be fine. Here, let me go get you a starburst for the great effort."

"Wow Pollix! You made her actually get ready for it. I never did that. You really are strong." exclaims Nova. Eyes sparkling with awe.

"I, I just bounced off her. Like a bug."

"Yep." Athea pats her friend on the shoulder.

"...Nova you did a great job with your hunt. It was awesome."

"Aw, thanks Pol."

"I wonder if I could tackle her? I am heavier than you."

"Yeah you are pretty fat."

"Fat so I can crush you."

"You two are weird friends." sighs Nova.

[brittle-doughie]

Not gonna lie, this has been on my head for WEEKS now after I read Tales of Sweetness (Valentines Special) over and over again even though Valentines day is already over-

And I read the part where Pomegranate Cookie and Red Velvet Cookie are argueing if Y/n will like their Valentine Chocolates or not (anddd of course, Y/n likes it in the end), and it made me very interested on the title of Y/n Cookie if they join the Dark Cookies Team;

"Lord/Lady of Darkness"

So- I was thinking...

May I request of What is Licorice Cookie, Poison Mushroom Cookie, Dark Choco Cookie, Strawberry Crepe Cookie, Pomegranate Cookie, Red Velvet Cookie and Dark Enchantress Cookie Opinions or Reactions to Lord/Lady Y/n?

And how does these dark Cookies treat Lord/Lady Y/n Cookie, as well as what these Cookies respect obsess/love Y/n cookie?

Also, I won't forget that I read the part where Lord/Lady Y/n Cookie rides a frikin' Cake Dragon- add that part of how these cookies react that Y/n cookie can tame a Cake Dragon too.

I think some of them will go 😲 or 🤯 or 😱 at Lord/Lady Y/n taming AND riding a big Cake Dragon, of course- 🤣🤣🤣

Cookie Details - Lord/Lady Harbinger Cookie (Y/N Cookie) - (CoD Ver.)

“Am I a joke to you?”

In comparison to the other members of the CoD, Lord/Lady Harbinger Cookie is considered the strongest among them, acting as Dark Enchantress Cookie’s enforcer of her will.

They’re slightly larger then the average cookie, Dark Choco Cookie being able to reach up to where their neck is located. Their main weapon of choice is a halberd as they’re decked out in tough chocolate armor while wearing a dinosaur-like skull for a helmet.

One skill Lord/Lady Harbinger Cookie pertains to is their beastmaster capabilities, not too different to Red Velvet Cookie, but cranked up ten-fold. When given enough time will have Harbinger Cookie tame even large beasts such as Cake Dragons.

Dark Enchantress Cookie has complete faith in Harbinger Cookie carrying out her orders, something that the other members caught onto. Did the both of them perhaps remembered each other before?

Relationship Charts Amongst the CoD

Pomegranate Cookie

[Admiration] “I would gladly serve under their reign..”’

Pomegranate Cookie grew to admire Harbinger Cookie to the point where she treats them similarly to Dark Enchantress Cookie, never would any disrespect head their way with Pomegranate Cookie around.

Has a rivalry with Licorice Cookie over favorites, leading to arguments over who gets to do the tasks Harbinger Cookie brings up. It leads to Pomegranate having to be around them often to prevent Licorice from swiping them from under her. You’re often annoyed at their bickering.

Has a portion of her room dedicated to you. Photos, old weapons you won’t miss, the damn body pillow she keeps tucked in her bed. Others may find it a little creepy, but Pomegranate could care less, she was just showing the extent her devotion goes.

[Admiration] “You can depend on me, I’ll never fail you!”

Licorice Cookie is all about trying to be a better cookie then Pomegranate with whatever you want him to, getting your praise and approval is his main motivator!

You get Dark Choco to handle whatever you need, you’re tired of having Licorice and Pomegranate butting heads with frequent arguments over their perceived achievements over one another.

Will have his licorice servants be at your beck and call, ready to take any orders you would like to request. May or may not summon some of them to swipe things from your room.

Red Velvet Cookie

[Trust] “My Lord/Lady has plans for the new world, I’ll be behind them until the end.”

Harbinger Cookie is a valiant fighter in the eyes of Red Velvet Cookie, training him under their wing. It’s an added bonus that you’re considerate of the cake hounds and other critters that you come across.

Nothing gets him more happy then seeing you being a loving caretaker to the cakes, playing around with them and giving them their treats. Endearing these creatures has only made him endear you more in return.

There is this lingering hint of jealousy he has when you’re too busy playing with the cake hounds with not enough time spent for him, then it would be a situation where he has to shoo them away so he could get to you!

Dark Choco Cookie

[Trust] “Me and them are not so different..”

You’re the only cookie Dark Choco could confide in with the darkness that lurks within his very soul. That trust only goes deeper that you understood him with his past…since you used to be a hero yourself, now having your fate lie within darkness.

Like Red Velvet, he respects your strength, believing that any cookie who could challenge you were simply foolish in their efforts, either ending up being crumbs or utterly defeated.

When he eventually leaves the CoD, he feels a sense of sorrow, knowing that your once pure soul has been tainted and corrupted by the darkness all around you. He wants to believe that you can still be saved and be the Cookie you once were, but as time goes by, that hope diminishes…

Poison Mushroom Cookie

[Friendly] “Have shroomies, they’ll make you feel better…!”

Harbinger Cookie can have their off days, this is where Poison Mushroom Cookie steps in. They never fail to put a smile on their face, offering shroomies to them to lighten up their attitude.

This is returned by Harbinger Cookie playing around Poison Mushroom, lifting them up and allowing them on their shoulder. It strikes the heartstrings of Pomegranate and Licorice Cookie watching Harbinger be a parent to Poison Mushroom!

Strawberry Crepe Cookie

[Friendly] “I can’t seem to pinpoint their ingredients, I’ll need further analysis on them!”

Harbinger Cookie was such an anomaly to Strawberry Crepe…and that’s what makes them so interesting to Crepe! The sheer mystery of what lies in Harbinger’s dough means Crepe is always ready for any opportunity to get a closer look.

You did find Strawberry’s shenanigans a little annoying, but you couldn’t fault the young cookie, they were only curious about what you’re made of, hell, you were to. Dark Enchantress wouldn’t allow it though and you couldn’t exactly go against her…

There’s also the squabbles between Crepe and Mushroom, both wanted your complete attention and neither were willing to cooperate with the other for your care. It leads to you and the others agreeing to never keep them in the same room for too long with you, a fight is the last thing you needed with the two cookies on your shoulders…

Dark Enchantress Cookie

[Friendly] “It’s good to welcome you home, my dear Y/N Cookie..”

Dark Enchantress Cookie, the cookie whom you’ve pledged your loyalty to, the cookie who’ll bring forth a new world, the cookie who brought you in when you were at your lowest..she gave you a second chance and you couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

The only cookie to know your “real name”, or at least she claimed it was. It made the interactions between you and her a lot more personal, as well as how touchy she could be with a hand on your arm or shoulder as she spoke to you.

The life you have now was better then the one you had, she’ll tell you. Just stick to her and she’ll give you the world and so much more, all you have to do is take her hand and never let go..

[r1pp4r]

hi lovelies!! work has been busy <333 i’m working on requests but in the mean time have some simon “ghost” riley headcannons :))

- i also bought a ps4 and have been playing cod so… more content hehe 🫶🫶

anyway!! here’s the headcannons :)) slight NSFW warning!!!

——————————————————————————————

- 🫣

• simon isn't a physical touch man unless youre in private but it takes a little bit. he won't be all over you when the two of you are out in public, especially on mission. but he'll do discreet little touches here and there (i.e put his hand on your upper arm, brush your shoulder, your knee, thigh) he'll even grab your pinky (he LOVES finger holding you cant change my mind)

• while simon would be absolutely infatuated with you, he'd also be terrified of you. he loves the thought of having you wrapped in his arms at night but the thought of him crushing or possibly hurting you shuts the idea out almost completely.

• this one is sad but he's hurt you before sleeping. he was definitely having a night terror, he's pushed you out of bed sometimes or woken up screaming. you didn't get to see that until farther along in the relationship though, he probably wouldn't physically sleep with you for maybe the first 6months to a year. it depends on ur dynamic :))

• as much as i know everyone thinks he'd be some mean, aggressive brute in bed... bro. he'd literally be so sweet. he'd take his time and make sure you felt loved. he likes to use his hands and mouth more than his yk, it just makes him feel like he's violating you less? idk how to explain it but he doesn't like receiving TOO much, like he won't ask for it every time but if you ever wanna really get him goin.. 🫣🫣🫣

• simon loves to take care of you, and the thing is you'll argue over it. (at least imc) but he'd definitely try and be the main caretaker of everything and i mean EVERYTHINGGGG, but he also likes ur independence :)) so u have your own job n your own money, he just likes to take care of the big things you pay for groceries n shit (when he's not looking)

• this man LOOOOOVES ur thighs. he loves just feeling his head squished in between the warmth. he loved feeling the skin squish between his fingers as he grabs your legs... esp when it jiggles after he spanks u. ANYWAYYYYYYYYY

• he loves cuddling whenever youre the little spoon in any shape or form. simon is ALWAYS holding you. his arms are wrapped around your form like a cocoon and he makes sure you're all cozied up against him. he also likes to make sure you're protected and one of the only ways he can do that is with his arms around you. he feels the safest with his arms wrapped around you, as do you.

• playing off that.. this man will literally murk a motherfucker if they LOOK at you wrong. (obviously not he'd just stare.. at them. very intensely) but if anyone ever put their hands on you in any sense of malice... i don't think for a second simon would hesitate.

• also... playing off sense. simon 100% knows when someone's bullshitting, or he can call anyone out within a minute. he's VERY good at reading people and truly can figure out their intentions quickly (obvs they can change or he can be wrong but like.. he's not 85% of the time.)

• once simon is comfortable enough with you, he'll come to you whenever he's having a moment and will allow you to basically cradle him until he doesn't need it anymore. he doesn't like to be squeezed tho (besides during ... but we knew that 😸) he just wants you to hold him and run ur fingers through his hair

• he talks a LITTLE bit more with you and his tone is a lot different and his voice is softer but he still doesn't talk a LOT. you do most of the talking but he prefers it that way because he loves listening to your voice. (he 100% calls you on missions whenever he can rather than text, he HATES texting)

• simon has cried to soap and roach about how he wants to love you but feels like he can’t. 100%.

• he only likes to be called simon when they’re at home, or in the bedroom. sometimes you’ve slipped up and he doesn’t mind :)

•bonus simon loves ur hands :~)

[pin-k-ink]

BENEATH HUMAN SKIN ⋆✦⋆ ulquiorra schiffer

synopsis ➸ after ulquiorra is resurrected by orihime, you’re tasked with taking him in—a bitter twist of fate given the memories of your time as his prisoner. stripped of his power and bound to a fragile human body, he’s now completely dependent on you for survival. at first, you’re repulsed by the idea of caring for the very man who once held you captive, but as days pass, you find yourself drawn to the complexities of his new existence. with each lesson in humanity you’re forced to teach him, the lines between resentment and compassion begin to blur in ways you never expected.

chapter one — reluctant caretaker

pairing ➸ ulquiorra schiffer x reader

word count ➸ 5.9k

masterlist

"Absolutely not," you growled, leveling a scathing glare at Urahara Kisuke. "There's no way in hell I'm taking that...that monster into my home."

The words seemed to vibrate with the force of your conviction, echoing through the small confines of Urahara's underground training room. Beside you, Orihime wilted slightly, her delicate features creasing with distress.

"But...he helped me," she whispered, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "I can't just leave him here after everything..."

Your gaze flicked to the silent, impassive figure standing off to the side – Ulquiorra Schiffer, former Espada and the embodiment of your worst nightmares. Even stripped of his power and shunted into a gigai, his very presence made your skin prickle with instinctive unease.

"He kidnapped us, Orihime," you reminded her, gentling your tone out of respect for her kind heart. "He would have killed us if given the chance. Just because he's been...diminished...doesn't erase that."

"Now, now, let's not be hasty," Urahara interjected with his usual affable smile. The brim of his hat cast his features in shadow, making it impossible to read his expression fully. "Ulquiorra-san no longer poses any threat in his current state. And Miss Inoue went through...extraordinary measures to bring him back."

You snorted derisively, crossing your arms over your chest. "So she fished him out of the reincarnation cycle out of some misguided sense of guilt? That's her choice to make, not mine."

Beside you, Orihime tensed as if steeling her resolve. When she spoke again, her words were laced with the same gentle steel that had enabled her to endure captivity and war with bravery.

"Ulquiorra will need a place to stay while he adjusts. He...he should not be left alone." She swallowed hard before meeting your gaze squarely. "And you're the only one I trust to help with this, besides Urahara-san."

A muscle ticked in your jaw as you fought against the rising tide of reluctance. Of course sweet, empathetic Orihime would look at the once-monstrous Espada and see only a chance for redemption. She was too pure, her heart too open to anything resembling hate.

Which was precisely why you couldn't deny her this...no matter how much the thought of sharing living space with Ulquiorra made your very bones ache in apprehension.

"Fine," you ground out after a tense silence. "But I'm not making any promises to play nice. That hollow scum will be lucky if I don't throttle him in his sleep."

Rather than looking affronted by your threat, Urahara let out a light chuckle. "I'll hold you to watching your words at least, dear girl. While suppressed, any violence against Ulquiorra-san could destabilize his fragile condition."

Your lip curled at the reminder that you now held a degree of power and leverage over your former captor. The urge to exercise that dominance and make him suffer even a fraction of the torment you'd endured under his watch was intoxicating.

But Orihime was watching you with open hope now, clearly trusting you to take this burden despite your reservations. Gritting your teeth, you bobbed a terse nod of agreement.

"I suppose we should get this over with then," you snapped, straightening your shoulders as if bracing for an oncoming storm.

Orihime beamed shakily in gratitude, while beside her, Ulquiorra remained utterly motionless and unreadable. You refused to meet his stare, turning on your heel to lead the way out of the claustrophobic confines of the training room. Every step felt leaden, weighted by the prospect of what loomed ahead.

The short walk back to your modest apartment passed in loaded silence. Urahara and Orihime flanked Ulquiorra, seemingly escorting the once-powerful Espada like an inmate being transferred between holding cells. If the role reversal struck him at all, the hollow-turned-human gave no outward reaction to betray his thoughts.

You unlocked the door with hands that trembled ever-so-slightly despite your determination to project an aura of indifference. This was your territory now, the place where Ulquiorra would have to play by your rules for once. A flicker of gratification sparked low in your belly at the prospect – your first true taste of the control you now wielded.

Orihime hovered near the entryway, hands fidgeting nervously as if she too sensed the shifting undercurrent of power between you all. Urahara bowed slightly to you both.

"I'll leave you three to get settled then," he said easily, already retreating. "Remember, violence and restraint are strictly off-limits for now. Otherwise, make yourself at home, Ulquiorra-san!"

With a jaunty wave, the eccentric shopkeeper ducked out of the open door and vanished into the gathering gloom of twilight. You watched him go with a sense of abandonment settling heavily across your shoulders.

The three of you stood in stilted silence for what felt like an eternity pressed into mere seconds. You kept your gaze averted from Ulquiorra's hulking form, instead focusing on Orihime with ill-disguised impatience.

"Well?" You prompted gruffly when the quiet became too oppressive. "Don't you have some other friends to go reassure now? I'll take it from here."

Orihime flushed, casting an anxious glance at the unnervingly still former Espada beside her before stepping forward. She wrapped you in a brief, fierce embrace you returned halfheartedly.

"Thank you," she breathed against your hair. "Thank you for doing this..."

Before you could respond, she'd already whirled and hurried out after Urahara, throwing one final look at Ulquiorra over her shoulder as she departed. Then it was just you and your reformed captor, left alone together to navigate this new, twisted balance of power and peril.

Another tense minute ticked by as you avoided acknowledging Ulquiorra's presence directly. Instead, you busied yourself with closing and locking the door, straightening some clutter on the hall table in an agitated flurry of needless activity. Anything to avoid having to confront this next ugly stretch of imposed cohabitation between you.

When you could no longer delay the inevitable, you inhaled a fortifying breath and turned to face Ulquiorra fully for the first time since he'd entered your sanctuary. The former Espada stood exactly as he'd been since your arrival ��� back ramrod straight, expression utterly remote.

But there was no mistaking the electric weight of that eerie viridian stare boring into you now with undisguised assessment. You refused to be cowed by the appraisal, stiffening your own spine as you met Ulquiorra's eyes squarely in flat defiance.

"Let's get one thing straight," you bit out after several tense beats of silence. "You may be weakened and trapped in that gigai, but don't think for one second that gives you freedom here. This is my home, my territory. You're the prisoner, and I'll be calling the shots from here on out."

To your surprise, Ulquiorra didn't seem rankled by the open challenge and insubordination in your tone. He blinked once, impassively, a series of micro-expressions flickering across his striking features too quickly for you to decipher.

When at last he spoke, his voice carried that same arid, inflectionless cadence you recalled from memory, now rendered in blandly conversational tones rather than frigid disdain.

"Neither of us wished for circumstances to have taken this path," Ulquiorra replied, surveying his modest surroundings with a slight downturn of his harsh mouth. "But the reality cannot be altered by attempting to rewrite the past. What's done is done."

Your jaw clenched hard enough to creak at his utterly logical dismissal. The utter lack of acknowledgment for the pain and terror he'd inflicted, as if everything were so cleanly binary in his mind. Beside you, your fingernails bit into your palms as you fought for control.

"Is that so?" You echoed with deceptive mildness, stalking closer until you could sense the subtle displacement of air caused by his breathing – a needless biological function for his current form. "And what if I told you I've decided this little arrangement of yours is unacceptable? That I plan to make your life a living hell to repay you for every ounce of torment you caused Orihime and me?"

You halted mere inches away from Ulquiorra, so close you could smell the faintly antiseptic scent of whatever hair product Urahara had outfitted him with. His unblinking stare remained leveled over your head rather than meeting your obvious provocation.

“You are completely justified in expressing your feelings, and I have no authority to prevent you from doing so.”

That flat, unbothered response made your tenuous grasp on restraint fray ever further until you could practically feel crimson bleeding into the edges of your vision.

"You arrogant son of a-" you seethed, exploding forward in a blur to seize Ulquiorra by the collar of his plain shirt and haul his hulking frame down until your noses were nearly brushing.

To his credit, the former Espada didn't flinch or make any move to retaliate against your aggressive posturing. Those bizarre, otherworldly eyes simply bored into yours with infuriating indifference.

"Perhaps I should clarify further," Ulquiorra continued in the same detached tones, seemingly unperturbed by the close press of your infuriated form against his solid bulk. "I welcome whatever punitive actions you deem necessary to inflict upon me. Truthfully, such torture may prove a balm compared to the indignity of... existing in this weakened state."

Something about his vaguely mournful delivery knocked you back a step, loosening your grip on the now-wrinkled cotton of his shirt. You stared up at Ulquiorra in bewildered consternation as he calmly awaited your response.

"Weren't you listening?" You demanded hoarsely. "I plan to make your life a living nightmare to get back at you for...for everything!"

A flicker of what you could have sworn was wry contemplation surfaced behind the former Espada's unblinking stare before dissipating just as swiftly. He inclined his head a bare fraction in acknowledgement.

"I suspected that might be your ultimate aim, and I have no intention of fighting such understandable vindication." His pale gaze seemed to strip you bare down to your core of bitter resentment and agonized resolve. "Perhaps existing as your powerless captive for the foreseeable future will afford me the clarity to accept the reality of my inglorious...rebirth."

The implications in his hushed tone sent ice raking down your spine even as they fanned the flames of your outrage higher. You snarled something wordless and animalistic, prepared to unleash the full force of your fury on this insufferably arrogant hollow's uncomprehending frame.

But then, Ulquiorra uttered words that brought you up short – freezing you more effectively than any physical restraint could.

"Or perhaps I should have stayed dead after all, an unlamented memory fading into nothing rather than suffering further indignity."

You recoiled instinctively from the flat, defeated delivery of those final syllables, hands falling away from Ulquiorra's collar as if burned. There was no mistaking the truth underpinning his stoicism now – this former harbinger of devastation would truly rather wallow in oblivion than submit to whatever horrors you and fate had in store.

A dizzying vertigo seemed to swamp you, swaying dangerously on your feet as all the anger bled away in a wash of conflicted unease. This proud, deadly entity could barely conceive of a concept so lowly as continuing to draw breath, let alone resisting your threats of reprisal. In that moment, you saw the first cracks begin to web across his foundations of conviction.

Ulquiorra's eyelids drifted shut as another interminable stretch of silence mushroomed outward like a festering wound between you. When they reopened, his expression had flatlined into something utterly vacant.

"But you need not concern yourself with such sentimental notions," he murmured with evident finality, turning away to begin exploring your modest quarters with measured, mechanical strides. "I shall endeavor to make my presence as unobtrusive as this form will allow. Do with me what you will – even should that involve simply leaving me to wither."

Against your will, against every instinct screaming in outrage, you watched numbly as the former Espada ghosted past you, disappearing into the depths of your sanctuary as if awaiting the next chapter of his undoing in silent absolution. The fight seemed to have already bled from his marrow, leaving only empty resignation.

And you didn't care. At least, that's what you told yourself as the hours ticked by in tense, maddening silence within the confines of your apartment. You went about your usual routine with pointed indifference – showering, preparing your meals, catching up on work. All the while, resolutely ignoring the looming presence of the defeated hollow currently taking up residence somewhere in your home.

A petty, vengeful part of you hoped Ulquiorra was stewing in his own unraveling misery. That he was grappling with the full, bitter reality of his diminished circumstances every second you left him to fend for himself. It would be a fitting start to his torment, you reasoned – a precursor to whatever punishments you ultimately decided to inflict upon him in retaliation for the nightmare he'd once subjected you and Orihime to.

So you refused to seek him out or even acknowledge that he existed within these walls. You simply went about your day-to-day life, simmering in a caustic blend of residual fear, resentment, and a strange sort of hollowness that made your chest tighten unnervingly whenever your thoughts strayed to the defeated Espada.

It wasn't until the sun began slipping below the horizon, casting your normally cozy living room into deep shadow, that the illusion of normalcy you'd been clinging to shattered with a resounding clatter. The harsh clang of something solid impacting your kitchen floor made you flinch violently, book tumbling from suddenly numb fingers as your heart jackknifed into your throat.

For a suspended moment, you remained frozen on your loveseat, straining to discern the source of the disturbance through the muffling layers of dread and uncertainty now smothering your senses. Then, just as you started to convince yourself it had been nothing more than an overactive imagination playing tricks, the unmistakable sound of a pained groan echoed from the direction of the commotion.

You were on your feet and moving before conscious thought could kick in, every instinct screaming at you to investigate the potential threat homing in on that low, rasping utterance with laser-like focus. There was something sickeningly, viscerally familiar about the timbre of that solitary sound of anguish that made your pulse triple even as you rounded the corner into your kitchenette.

There, crumpled in an ungainly sprawl beside your battered oven, was Ulquiorra. The former Espada was hunched over himself with an unnatural stillness, arms wrapped protectively around his midsection as if cradling some grievous, invisible wound there. Even from several paces away, you could see the tension thrumming through his powerful frame, the rictus of what could have been pained confusion twisting his severe features.

For a stunned heartbeat, you could only gape at the unexpected sight of Ulquiorra brought so brutally low. Part of you balked instinctively even as morbid fascination rooted you in place to study the display of uncharacteristic frailty unfolding before you. This cold, brutally effective hollow – reduced to helplessness over what, an errant stubbed toe? Some stumbling accident as he tried to navigate your human domicile unaided?

The notion should have been laughable, a delicious validation of the power shift you now held over your former captor's undoing. And yet, as you watched Ulquiorra curl further in on himself with a breathless, animalistic keen of clear agony, you felt not even an inkling of perverted satisfaction. Just a strange, gaping hollowness in your core that seemed to swell in tandem with every distressed exhalation spilling from his grimacing lips.

When he finally registered your silent presence looming at the periphery, Ulquiorra lifted his head with what seemed to be a Herculean effort. Those eerie green depths you'd once associated with such frigid, apocalyptic menace were glassy and shuttered, jaw clenched against what you could only assume was searing torment based on his tense, hunched positioning.

"What..." He ground out the fragmented syllable haltingly, as if simply giving voice to his duress was unimaginable hardship. "What is...this?"

It was the blatant bewilderment underpinning that strained murmur that cemented your decision before you could second-guess the impulse. With a huff of resigned annoyance, you crossed the tiled expanse of the kitchen and knelt beside Ulquiorra's huddled form without preamble.

"It's called hunger, you colossal idiot," you stated with a degree of snide condescension that would have been unthinkable mere days ago. "Evidently you need to eat regular food now just like the rest of us humans."

Ulquiorra recoiled fractionally from your proximity as if you'd struck him, eerie gaze going comically wide with shock and something like childish affront at your blasé assessment. You rolled your eyes overtly at his dramatic display, ignoring the tiny flutter of vindictive glee at getting to knock this fallen specter down another peg or twelve.

"Oh don't give me that scandalized look," you scoffed in a tone dripping snide impatience. "Let's get you up and into the guest room like a sensible invalid so I can actually feed you this time. I have a feeling you're going to need me to walk you through every humiliating biological function this human body of yours requires from here on out."

Your words seemed to catalyze a flush of heated indignation across Ulquiorra's aristocratic features as your intention became clear. Before he could open his mouth to undoubtedly deliver a scathing rebuttal or refusal, you seized his arm in an uncompromising grip and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet beside you.

"Don't try fighting me on this," you warned with an arched look as he swayed dangerously in your steadying grasp, features pinched from obvious discomfort. "You may be some hotshot warrior in your natural state, but right now you're the sad little human who can't even remember to feed himself. So let's get you taken care of before your weak little body gives out entirely and you leave me with a corpse to deal with on top of everything else."

True fury flared behind Ulquiorra's eyes at your continued derision, no doubt galled by your flagrant dismissal of his former prowess in favor of such scornful disregard for his current helplessness. His mouth worked silently for a fraught instant as if struggling to piece together a rebuttal befitting his offended pride.

But then another spasm of clear discomfort seemed to lance through him, deflating whatever diatribe had been brewing with a pained wince and ragged exhalation instead. You took full advantage of the opening to seize his elbow in an immovable grasp and begin forcibly steering his weakened bulk towards the small guestroom without awaiting consent.

"We'll get you fed and resting properly," you pronounced in a tone far too bright and upbeat for the situation at hand. "Then maybe you'll be in better shape to start figuring out this whole 'being a useless human' thing you seem to struggle with so pitifully."

Ulquiorra's steps were uneven and faltering beneath your rough ushering ministrations, every line of his tense musculature broadcasting his helpless capitulation to your will despite the undercurrent of mutinous humiliation flashing behind those hooded, inscrutable eyes. By the time you'd shepherded his labored form fully into the

guestroom and deposited him atop the bed with one final bodily shove, a faint sheen of perspiration dotted the former Espada's brow – belying the toll this unexpected physical trial was exacting on his human vessel.

As you withdrew a few paces to study the pathetic display through narrowed, assessing eyes, Ulquiorra's quiet rasp wormed its way beneath your defenses despite your best efforts.

"I did not...ask for your assistance." The words seemed to physically pain him to utter, wreathed with rasping indignation and something darker, more visceral.

Curling your lip in a perfunctory sneer, you met that balefully hooded jade glare with a scoff of dismissive unconcern.

"Well good, because I'm not offering it." You tilted your chin up in a silent challenge, squaring your shoulders subtly. "I'm simply doing the bare minimum required to keep your worthless human body from keeling over on me and causing more problems than you're already worth. This is a preventative measure against added inconvenience, nothing more."

Ulquiorra regarded you through those unsettling slitted eyes, seemingly trying to excavate the truth behind your callous rebuff from the scant tells of body language and microexpressions alone. Then his gaze slid away in weary resignation, lids drooping infinitesimally as whatever fight briefly rekindled by your hostility extinguished once more.

He said nothing more, retreating behind those fortified walls of silence that you were intimately acquainted with from your captivity at Las Noches. As if sensing the battle was lost before a new war could even be engaged, Ulquiorra simply turned his face into the slanted shafts of buttery light slipping through the bedroom window blinds - eyes sliding shut against your contemptuous scrutiny in quiet absolution.

You lingered in the doorway for a few beats longer, studying Ulquiorra's motionless form in profile. Despite the circumstances, there was something profoundly unsettling about seeing him lay in repose like this. Gone was the aura of coiled lethality and quiet menace that had shrouded him during your captivity. Now he simply appeared...diminished. The harsh angularity of his features seemed to sag with unspoken weariness in the buttery afternoon light.

Snapping yourself from the strange reverie, you shook your head sharply and turned on your heel to head for the kitchen. May as well gather some provisions for the fallen hollow currently playing at being your unwanted houseguest.

Some indeterminable time later, you re-entered the guest room brandishing a tray of food - a hearty sandwich, some fresh fruit, and a glass of cool water from the tap. Ulquiorra didn't stir from his prone position, eyes remaining closed to the world in apparent oblivion to your re-entry. You studied the rigid lines of his body for any signs of lingering discomfort from the hunger pangs, but his breathing seemed to have evened out and the tension bled from his joints.

"Hey," you called out gruffly, hefting the tray a bit higher in clear invitation. "I've got some food for you to try putting in that human body of yours."

Ulquiorra's eyelids fluttered once, twice, before finally parting to half-mast slits. He regarded you and the sustenance-laden tray with hooded disinterest that quickly flattened into blatant disdain.

"I did not ask for nor require any...provisions from you," he stated in that same toneless delivery that made rage flare molten in your gut.

"Yeah? Well tough shit, because this is happening whether you want it to or not," you snapped back, stalking across the room to set the tray on the nightstand with more force than necessary. "And don't even think about getting snippy with me because of your wounded pride or whatever delusional complex you clearly still have going on."

Ulquiorra regarded you with that same remote, infuriatingly flat stare. You could practically see the wheels turning behind those eerie green depths, the internal recalibrations as he struggled to compute the reality of his new helpless state.

For a protracted stretch, you simply glared at one another from across the narrow chasm of personal space. The tension built steadily as you waited for Ulquiorra to inevitably cave and accept the aid being offered - or at least that's what you anticipated his next move would be. Surely the pragmatism instilled from years of military expertise would win out over pigheaded stubbornness.

But then his jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, one fractional tell you caught only by virtue of extended study of his body language. Something in that micro-movement signaled grim resolution rather than anticipated capitulation.

"I will not be made to beg for rations as if some pitiful stray," Ulquiorra decreed with finality. He turned his head to gaze impassively out the bedroom window once more. "This human predicament imposed upon me is indignity enough without submitting to your further torment and debasement."

You stared at him in slack-jawed disbelief, momentarily robbed of any witty retorts. The former Espada spoke of denying himself sustenance and letting his human body starve with the same utterly blasé indifference one might use to comment on lackluster weather. It was beyond your ability to comprehend such resigned nihilism in the face of mere biological imperatives like eating.

Before you could gather your wits to try reasoning through his strangely skewed logic, Ulquiorra went utterly silent and catatonic - withdrawing into himself in that supremely isolating way that made your skin prickle. You watched as his eyes slid shut once more, expression settling into one of stony blankness that announced all discussions had closed on the matter of whether he'd allow you to provide for his physical needs now.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you hissed under your strained exhale as tendrils of familiar helplessness began creeping upward. Just when you'd thought you had Ulquiorra pegged, that you held the upper hand over his human vulnerabilities, he'd pivoted the script in a way that left you reeling mentally.

Fuming in volatile silence, you snatched up the tray from its abandoned perch and crossed to the bedside with jerky strides. This hard-headed jackass wasn't going to be the architect of his own squalid decline while in your custody - not if you had anything to say about it. If Ulquiorra wanted to play the obstinate martyr, then so be it.

Without preamble, you settled yourself on the edge of the mattress and set the tray of provisions over your lap in a clear invitation.

"Open wide and say 'ah', princess," you drawled in a tone dripping with caustic sarcasm as you grabbed a section of the sandwich. "Because you're about to eat this whether you want to or-"

The rest of your ultimatum died in your throat as Ulquiorra's eerie green eyes snapped open in a flash to pin you with a look of such scorching intensity that your breath stalled. His body remained in that same transfixed repose, yet somehow the air between you had become supercharged with intangible menace that crackled palpably over your nerve endings.

In that suspended moment, caught in the emerald depths of Ulquiorra's wordless, irrefutable censure, you experienced a bizarre sort of vertigo. It felt like the balance of power itself was teetering precariously into some unknown dimension anew - another remapping of your strange reality catalyzed by whatever portentous shift was unfolding between you now.

All at once, you became keenly, hauntingly aware of the hollow yawning behind those vivid eyes - the presence of something ancient and disturbingly other lurking at Ulquiorra's core no matter how much human flesh and blood now encased it. And in that instant, you felt the first frissons of legitimate, self-preserving fear begin to unfurl in your core once more.

But then Ulquiorra blinked languidly, and the thrumming menace seemed to bleed away into more corporeal tension just as swiftly as it had manifested. You fought the urge to sway back in a show of visceral discomfort, determined not to let the former Espada rattle you from your convictions.

"Well?" You drawled again, infusing your tone with far more bravado than you actually possessed as you brandished the half-sandwich like a gauntlet flung at his feet. "Going to keep up this little martyr act, or are you going to quit being a prideful ass and let me do this for you?"

Ulquiorra regarded you in that same cryptic, hooded study - clearly taking cataloging stock of whatever transpired between you in those fractured instants when his other nature surfaced. Then he settled back against the pillows with something almost like resigned allowance.

"Very well," he murmured in a remote rasp weighted with undisguised distaste and disgruntlement. "I will...allow this indignity to commence for now."

He didn't open his mouth or make any move to accept your proffered morsel. You heaved out an explosive sigh and scooted closer across the coverlet until you were within arms reach - near enough to see every sculpted plane and shadow dappled across Ulquiorra's patrician features.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," you gritted out, bringing the simple sandwich quarter to his parted lips without further fanfare.

Ulquiorra tracked the progression of the food toward his waiting mouth with that same distantly predatory gaze. At the last possible second, his unique eyes flicked up to bore into yours in an imperious challenge. You faltered infinitesimally, the undercurrent of sizzling defiance embedded in that pointed stare worming under your skin in a way you couldn't quite pinpoint.

Then his lips parted a fraction wider and he accepted the offering in a single refined motion, plush lips brushing against the pads of your steadying fingers with the barest frisson of friction.

You held his gaze as Ulquiorra chewed the meager bite with exaggerated slowness, his strong throat working in a hypnotic flex to accommodate the human process of swallowing sustenance. A spark of hot humiliation seemed to lance through those striking green depths in the aftermath, as if he silently resented allowing you to bear witness to such disgraceful biological functions.

But he never looked away - not even when you gathered another morsel and brought it obediently to his lips a second time. This time, Ulquiorra's mouth accepted the offering without that coiling tension settling between you, his eerie eyes remaining fixed on yours as you carefully fed him bite after bite of sandwich in weighted silence.

At some point, you became distinctly aware that your fingers lingered against that chiseled jaw and plush mouth far longer than strictly necessary with each exchange. Almost as if some delirious part of you was...savoring the textures and contrasts there subconsciously.

You tried to convince yourself it was just a function of Ulquiorra needing assistance until he became acclimated to eating food properly. But rationalization did little to extinguish the heated cinder of awareness smoldering low in your core as your questing fingers mapped the refined contours of his lips and chin with each feeding.

At some point, propriety faded to a dull afterthought as you traced the glistening pad of your thumb over the bow of Ulquiorra's lower lip without conscious volition. A shuddering inhale gusted across the sensitized pads in a hushed gasp that had you recoiling instinctively, the spell abruptly shattered.

Keeping your stare averted, you plucked up a vibrant green apple from the tray instead - intent on restoring space between your bodies while preemptively heading off any undesired reactions from Ulquiorra. With movements stiff and jerky, you offered the fresh fruit over in obvious invitation for the former Espada to satisfy his evident hunger in a more...autonomous manner this time.

Out of your peripherals, you caught the minute motion of Ulquiorra reaching up to accept the proffered fruit from your splayed palm. His calloused knuckles drifted over your wrist in a feather-light graze that had every hair along your arm standing on electrified ending.

You risked a guarded glance back at Ulquiorra then, somehow not surprised to find his viridian stare fixed utterly upon you once more. There was no mistaking the glint of curiosity kindled there in those eerie depths, the silent contemplations weighing behind that banked intensity now.

With careful, almost exaggerated articulation, Ulquiorra brought the juicy apple to his lips and took a measured bite from the yielding flesh. His brow furrowed minutely as he sampled the fresh tartness, jaw working in a flex you watched with unwilling rapt fixation. When he swallowed, your eyes traced the subtle bobbing motion of his throat.

"It is..." Ulquiorra spoke the words with gravid slowness, as if sampling each one alongside the lingering burst of tart fruit on his tongue. "...not entirely unpleasant, I suppose."

His tone remained inflectionless on the surface, remote and unaffected. But those few murmured words nevertheless carried an undercurrent that had heat searing upwards along the exposed line of your throat without warning.

Refusing to examine why exactly the prospect of Ulquiorra bestowing his backhanded approval on a simple pleasure like eating fresh produce made your pulse kick is errant, you simply nodded tightly and forced your legs to reclaim their feet in one clumsy motion.

"Good," you grunted, already whirling away to reclaim the now-empty tray with hands that trembled microscopically. "Glad we got that whole dehumanizing ordeal out of the way for now. I'm going to...go and...yeah."

As you retreated toward the safety of the hallway and beyond, you felt Ulquiorra's penetrating stare burning a lingering brand between your shoulder blades. That same wordless recalibration from earlier still seemed to be churning ponderously behind those vivid, inhuman irises.

Just before clearing the doorway, the former Espada's toneless baritone wormed beneath your rattled defenses with uncanny precision.

"Woman...I believe I will soon require..."

You paused mid-stride, entire body going rigid as your mind instinctively rushed to assign meaning to the strange note of pregnant hesitation hovering behind the ellipsis of unspoken words. Despite yourself, dread and curiosity flooded your veins in equal measure.

"...guidance in locating the appropriate...receptacle for bodily processes to commence."

You remained frozen for a suspended heartbeat, allowing those bizarrely clinical euphemisms to percolate through your consciousness with rising incredulity. Then, quite without intending to, a strangled snort of laughter gusted out between your lips.

Slowly, haltingly, you turned to pin Ulquiorra with an expression caught somewhere between bewildered mirth and exasperation. The former Espada met your stare head-on, utterly impassive despite the absurdity now charged between you.

"Tell me you didn't just use thirty words to say you need to take a piss," you sputtered out through the ragged chuckles still seizing your airway.

Ulquiorra simply regarded you with that same unruffled, distant focus - seemingly utterly unconcerned with how profoundly absurd and humanizing the notion of asking for bathroom privileges truly was in that moment.

"I...require the location of the appropriate receptacle," he repeated with maddening literalness, missing your incredulous hilarity entirely. "Unless you would prefer I improvise an alternative solution on my own?"

At that pointed rejoinder, your laughter broke off with an abrupt choke that may or may not have been borne of disgust. You shook your head sharply, expression rapidly smoothing over into businesslike determination.

"Just...sit tight for like two seconds while I get this worked out." You punctuated the command by jabbing an index finger skyward. "And I swear to every deity you piss anywhere other than the actual toilet, and I'll stuff you in one of those adult diapers myself."

Rather than looking affronted or rankled by the direness of your threat, Ulquiorra's lips twitched with what could have almost been a flicker of sardonic amusement. You stared back at the former Espada with an unnerved frown creasing your features, once again uncertain what bizarre undercurrents you were grappling with.

But then you shook your head again decisively and spun on your heel, already primed to set Ulquiorra up with the necessary facilities before this situation plunged off the rails into wholly different realms of uncomfortable absurdity.

Behind you, the former Espada settled back against the bedding compliantly, the tension seeming to bleed from his formidable frame as he awaited your guidance - an almost obscene paradigm shift from his former role that nevertheless persisted unabated.

And though you tried to maintain your clinical detachment and cool superiority in that moment, you couldn't quite shake the nagging awareness that some elemental dynamic had indeed shifted irrevocably between your souls - perhaps heralding a fragile pathway towards mutual understanding...or the first tremulous seeds of something rawer and more intimate entirely taking root.

Only time and patience would bear out which budding reality would ultimately blossom from the embers of your lingering defiance and Ulquiorra's resigned capitulation. The journey, it seemed, was only beginning anew.

[scoobydoodean]

so i’ve always been annoyed by the belief that “sam and dean are toxically co-dependent, especially dean!” like it just baffles me once i remember all the times they’ve been apart without one of them being dead (and actually including post swan song to an extent), but i’ve never been able to properly articulate why i think dean at least isn’t really co-dependent on sam. like there’s a difference between being (co)dependent on somebody and dean’s parentification right? thanks!

I'll preface this by saying I am not a medical professional nor have I studied academic literature on codependency in great detail. That said, "codependency" is usually just a buzzword used colloquially to describe people who are obsessed with each other anyway. I address the colloquial use and how Sam is much more unhinged here. I'm guessing the colloquial use is really more what you mean, but if you're looking for something different or a little more specific than that, I can probably write or point you to some other things I've written if you give me something more specific to go on.

That said, there is something about the way fandom talks about "codependency" between Sam and Dean that bothers me, and I think by reading around about codependency today after I got this ask, and finding out that this term is controversial among mental health professionals as well... I finally figured out why.

I think to a lot of people, "codependent" has become synonymous with words like "needy" and "suffocating". However, the WebMD type articles I started with, suggest that the partner of the codependent party is the one whose needs seem to constantly overshadow and outweigh the needs of the codependent partner in the relationship. While the codependent partner can exhibit negative behaviors, the primary problem of the codependent party is that in being a caretaker, they can lose all sense of their identity and boundaries, and don't know who they are outside of being a caretaker for others. However, this is a more modern take on the term. Because these articles I started with mentioned academic controversy, I then found a few academic papers to skim, and this proved to be even more helpful in understanding why I... don't like this term very much.

First, the historical origins of it are... off-putting. The term "codependency" first emerged in academic literature in the 1940s to describe wives with alcoholic husbands who behave as "enablers" [1, 2]. I probably don't have to point out how different things were for women back then, and how rampantly sexist that context makes this first wave of literature sound, but it's discussed extensively in this article. Second, there is more stigma associated with the term partly because Alcoholics Anonymous (shocking /s) latched onto it starting in the 60s and 70s:

The influence of the AA culture in shaping the concept of codependency as an illness offered the idea that people who were close to the substance user were themselves suffering from an illness (O’Briean and Gaborit 1992). These people were viewed as enablers and coalcoholics (Cotton 1979). [ 1 ]

I... think I am probably not the only one who finds that utterly rancid to read (some academics writing on the subject certainly seem to):

According to Gus Napier, a noted family therapist, it is "ridiculous" to label codependency as a disease, because it is a culturally conditioned response of an overfunctioning person in relationship with an underfunctioning person (Meacham, 1990-1991). [2]

Some researchers who have pushed the term "codependency" as a diagnosis have actually suggested that literally anyone who is living with someone with an addiction should be called co-dependent by definition, regardless of any behavior they may exhibit, which tells you a lot about the lack of consensus and how meaningless the term can be [2]. The term (especially within the disease model where codependency itself is a from of addiction) has been criticized by many researchers for the misogyny through which the term originated, for unproductive negative labeling and pathologizing of people (especially women) dealing with incredibly difficult situations with their loved ones, for victim-blaming people (especially women stuck in abusive relationships) for the actions of their partners, for tangentially—negative stereotyping about people with serious addictions, and for conflating addiction with interpersonal problems, and in the extreme case—for suggesting separation from ones family is the solution to addiction and supporting someone with an addiction somehow always enables them [1, 2].

Since the original stream of literature related to addiction, codependency has rebranded and expanded into literature on family experiences with abuse and mental and physical illness. Which is where we get articles like this one I already linked. The codependent party is still a caretaker in these settings, caring for the needs of a loved one who is ill. Still, "codependency" is not an official medical diagnosis (i.e. not in the DSM-5). It's a term that has been used in academic literature by mental health professionals, when trying to describe a range of behaviors within dysfunctional families. These researchers do not agree on the term's meaning or on whether it even is or should be a diagnosis. Many are interested in it only from an interpersonal or personality perspective, which is also where we should stick.

Taking all of this into account though, I think the very first thing we have to ask ourselves is what exactly we get out of using the term "co-dependency" to describe Sam and/or Dean when the term doesn't even really have an agreed-upon meaning. Is the intention to write interesting character analysis, or is the intention to glorify or criticize using a term that has historically stigmatized understandable human reactions to troubled family situations? I think the goal has perhaps too often been the latter.

That said, I've already been referencing it, but I think this article does a good job of summarizing much of the literature, and then actually focusing on people who do choose, of their own accord, to identify with the term "codependent" because it is helpful for them in understanding their own lived experience and their patterns within relationships. I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to explore this as it relates to Sam and Dean with the right motivations. If you read the accounts of the respondents who choose to identify with the term, you'll see shades of Sam and Dean I think (I have written something pretty close to the chameleon-self about season 1 Dean, and I can apply that one to Sam too through his attempts to fit in at Stanford). When it comes to my experience with these characters however, I just don't find that I personally see any value in analyzing Sam and Dean through the word "codependent" given it's lack of agreed-upon meaning professionally and colloquially.

It seems to me that the term itself leads to more confusing conversations instead of less confusing ones because of the lack of clear definition, and the potential for negative stereotyping instead of actual edifying analysis is extremely off-putting to me. It just doesn't do anything for me personally. The issues to which it relates I think are interesting (especially parentification which is a term I do find useful), and I think criticisms leveled against the term are also useful to read in understanding ones own struggles with how fandom tends to frame Dean as a caretaker who they believe is actually somehow responsible for everyone else's decisions. But I think that perhaps I prefer words and concepts that are better defined than the muddiness of the term "codependent".

Lastly: Even if I'm not a particular fan of the term, the fact is that the actual show uses the term twice—in season 5 (shoutout to butch--dean's transcript search engine). Once in 5.11 "Sam, Interrupted" (to Dean):

DR. FULLER Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good.

First, this dude doesn't really know what's going on and thinks Sam and Dean are having delusions. However, in season 5, Sam's experience with demon blood is repeatedly paralleled with drug or alcohol addiction, and Sam is someone for whom Dean has been made to feel responsible for most of his life. This episode addresses Dean's overly burdensome responsibilities in other ways and it's also come up in the past in 1.12, 2.09, 2.10, and 4.05. I prefer to discuss this theme with much more specific terms. In this case, I would say Dean has an "overactive sense of responsibility to others", originating first with his childhood experiences with parentification. Sam also has a tendency to try and make Dean shoulder responsibility for his decisions when they backfire, and does so multiple times related to the demon blood (4.04, 4.21, 5.05). Cas and Zachariah also both blame Dean for Sam breaking the last seal because he didn't stop him in time (5.01, 5.02) and Bobby criticizes how Dean responds to Sam's addiction (4.22).

And then again in 5.18 "Point of No Return", specifically when Zachariah (my favorite manipulative angel) tries to get Adam to be on his side by basically calling Sam and Dean creepy incestuous weirdos:

ZACHARIAH So you know you can’t trust them, right? You know Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other, right?

This one honestly to me is just Zachariah doing Zachariah things. I'll reach these episodes on my rewatch fairly soon though, so we'll see if I end up talking about it more then.

Bacon, I., McKay, E., Reynolds, F. et al. The Lived Experience of Codependency: an Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis. Int J Ment Health Addiction 18, 754–771 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11469-018-9983-8

Anderson, S. C. (1994). A Critical Analysis of the Concept of Codependency. Social Work, 39(6), 677–685. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23717128

[jhuzen]

Will there be a part 2 of the "Attention" fic?

infidelity [gn/m.reader]

the answer to that is a solid yes AND a big apology for taking a hundred years to post this. this ask has been in my inbox for freaking months. and it’s mostly because i have been remaking this fic until i got the most satisfying fic LMAO. i’m sorry for taking so long 😭 i hope this is compensation enough. btw this part 2 to this! but honestly, you don’t have to read it lmao.

𖦹 crack taken seriously, hsr mention but this is mostly genshin, this is just a fic of me making fun of cheaters aka you, highly based on that one tweet of the “welcome home, cheater” one, pushing my grand overseer reader agenda like in my early fics teehee <3, sagau, sahsr au

“I should probably go back…”

Jing Yuan begged to differ. The general himself had his reservations about your sudden eagerness to depart. After all, you were a good company — one that amused him to the core and even kept him awake for the better part of the day. You are an interesting being to him after all — much after learning from the exuberant girl from the famed Astral Express suddenly emphasizing your importance when they left you under his supervision.

You, in much simpler words, are adorable in the Luofo general’s eyes. With eagerness and curiosity melding in those gaze of yours that could leave anyone transfixed — wanting and desperate.

You truly live up to the title as the grand overseer across worlds. You were the sole beholder of their sentience, despite the fact that right now, you’re barely aware of your status and your circumstance, it was more than enough for anyone go cherish your presence. How could they not? It was a blessing to see you descend from where you were, behind the great barrier that they all could only stare at when they looked to you for guidance.

Alas, that mattered little, not when you were beside the amused general and his coy smile, fingers raking through your hair; reminiscent of the pattern when he would do the same thing to Mimi when you visited his abode to meet the furry beauty that was his pet.

Quite frankly, you weren’t all too sure if this was something you were used to, being treated like an animal companion, with even the way Jing Yuan’s hand would suddenly roam behind your very human ears, scratching behind out of habit.

The only thing missing was him giving your food to you in a bowl, actually, and you’d be no different than Mimi at that point. Wait. No. You were sure Jing Yuan’s lion also ate out of a golden encrusted plate when you saw his hired caretakers come and feed Mimi.

“Bark for me, won’t you?” The general teased with a purr and it was more than enough for you to pull the plug at your willing compliance.

You removed his hand from your head and only shot him a subtle glare, “That’s a request I can’t honor even if my life depended on it.” You sighed, “I should get going now though, General… I made a promise to help our conductor in sweeping the floors. Apparently Caelus tracked some dirt inside when he decided to lug some trash.”

“Must you really? You’re the grand overseer, no? I believe such a title deserves a limitless freedom in doing whatever it is that they wish,” he coaxed in a suave tone, quick to win anyone over. And honestly, that sounds nice. But you’ve never seen Pom-Pom look so stressed when you saw an unwilling March and Dan Heng drag some trash either wrapped in gold bags or regular black ones inside the express when they came back from Belobog.

You somehow regretted leaving first — but even you had urgent matters to attend to at that moment.

“Ah—!” The lax Jing Yuan jolted at your sudden outburst.

“…Anything troubling you, Grand Overseer?”

“T-Teyvat! I completely forgot…!” Your eyes were blown wide as the panic settled within you. You had promised Nahida you would make it to the Interdarshan championship. She was so excited when she communed with you just days ago, completely elated that even your beloved Wanderer would participate as a representative in a Darshan.

Albeit confused by your sudden squawking, Jing Yuan understood and only watched you pace around while you lamented what sounds to be a rehearsed apology that you will no doubt tell to someone you hold precious.

“How envious, to receive an apology from you even sounds like a great honor.” Jing Yuan teased with a chuckle. “Well then, off you go now. Don’t be away for too long. I rather enjoy our time together.”

“O-Oh, yes, of course… I truly apologize for cutting our time together short. Do give my regards to Fu Xuan and Yanqing if they drop by. I have to go and talk to the crew and also bid my goodbye for now.” You bowed before turning away, briskly walking your way towards the door outside of the general’s office, only to bump into Welt and March.

“Oh! There you are! Ya ready to go shopping?” March held an exuberant energy as she asked, clasping your hand in hers tightly with an excited gleam flashing through her eyes.

Welt, however, was far more observant than March, “Judging from that look in your eyes… you have some affairs you’ve forgotten to tend to, Your Benevolence. Would I be correct in my judgment?”

“It’d be a miracle for you to be wrong at this point,” you laughed amidst your panic. “But yes, unfortunately. March, I hope you don’t mind a little bit of postponement… I have somewhere to be urgently.”

March’s bottom lip stuck out into pleading pout, “But you promised!”

“March, let’s not force them. It is as they say — an urgent affair.” Welt only looked at you with a small nod and an encouraging smile, “Don’t be too worried. I’ll let Himeko and Dan Heng know of your absence. Just be safe.”

“I will definitely come back and visit.” Your smile and reassurance was enough to quell March’s disappointment and Welt’s initial concern. “Please tell Caelus not to track more dirt inside. It’ll only serve to frustrate Pom-Pom further.”

“It’s a useless attempt, but for you, I’ll try,” March winked as she waved to you with Welt.

With a nod to the two of them, you were off to Teyvat — lucky that you have little need for the Star Rail in the first place to travel. Otherwise, it would most certainly take you the entire conceivable time just before you could even come back to one of the many worlds that you oversaw and to a fault, even took care of from afar.

You stepped into the familiar grassy fields of Sumeru’s rainforest, looking up to see that the city isn’t too far off. There was a gentle breeze that blew by, almost like a kiss from a certain archon, but you paid little heed to it. You normally always took your time to appreciate the sights in Teyvat, finding its vast lands and many biomes incredibly fantastical in sight. But even that couldn’t keep you from the fact that you’ve broken several promises that you willingly made to some residents here.

You can only imagine the disappointment in everyone’s faces once you’ve admitted to the fact that… other people may have swept your attention away in the first place — hence your sudden absence.

You owed your first apology to Nahida. She is after all, one of your far more favored archons around, treating her like your own, definitely something that would make Rukkhadevata proud among every other archon out there. And then there’s also a matter of apologizing to your dear Aether, you made another promise to him that you would spend your time with him in Sumeru’s far end by the Realm of Farakhkert to meet the infamous Sorush and the majestic race of the Pari (you once made a claim that Aranara’s are superior, and your endeared traveler was reluctant in protesting to your words it seems).

Now that you thought about it — you were sure you made quite a lot of promises to the residents of Teyvat. A lot of commitments were hammered into your special sanctuary that Aether had built for and with you inside his teapot.

Commitments that you’ve forgotten in favor of space travels with a couple of trailblazers.

Onlookers turned to your direction, completely flabbergasted at your casual appearance. What were you doing in Sumeru city (not that they were ungrateful for your gracious presence) — but it was as if you were solely taking a stroll on your own. Where are your entourage? Was the Acting Grand Sage even informed of your arrival? What about the archons that always accompanied you? Where is Buer?

Best of all, why does your face contort into an expression of what seems to be utter guilt?

You hiked your way to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, refusing any help offered to you by the guards that were courteous enough. You were prepared to face Nahida’s crestfallen look — prepared to start indulging her wishes to make up for the tomfoolery you engaged in. The corners of your mouth trembled as it itched to finally spill out the plethora of apologies that you’ve prepared.

“Oh. So you exist after all.”

Only for your well-rehearsed (by the last minute) apologies to fall apart when the Wanderer’s voice rang from above. You looked up to see him perched on one of the ledges just above the door of Nahida’s residence. He was stationed like a watchful hawk — and he was, constantly on the prowl for anyone suspicious daring to come up to the sanctuary.

Suddenly, a memory of you promising him to go fishing by the coasts of Sumeru had you wincing. And with the way the puppet’s mouth turned up in a smug smirk showed that he was aware of an engagement you swore you’d do with him.

“Ah… I hear you go by Hat guy now?” You tilted your head, giving him a reluctant smile.

“Spare me the meaningless prying. Where have you been?” His eyes narrowed, suspicious and a tad bitter at your absence and incompetence in attending a tiny little leisure that you yourself insisted he join you on. Who the hell even creates plans first and suddenly flakes out? The Wanderer has never felt more betrayed, quite frankly.

You suddenly looked like a guilty spouse that came from a messy affair, with the way you shifted your footing and how you averted your gaze quick. The Wanderer was intolerant of such a behavior however when he finally came down from his little high up spot to face you with no escape. He will summon a void and trap you in it halfway if you so much as make an attempt to escape.

“I’ve been… away…”

“Were you now?” His scrutinizing gaze only served to intimidate you further when he came up close, his nimble fingers tracing against your clothing. “Whose is this?”

And before you, he held a familiar long strand of white hair — possibly acquired when the general of Luofo decided to frolic around with you, coaxing (or coercing, more like) you to give him a much deserved head massage for his hard work (though in truth, he barely did anything that day).

“…A cat.” Technically not a lie. Jing Yuan does exhibit certain behaviors that you can classify as a behavior that a feline has.

“Is it now?” His voice went an octave higher — clearly mocking you if his churlish grin wasn’t enough of a sign about his suspicions of you and your… agendas prior to your unprompted visit in Teyvat.

A terse silence engulfed you and your Wanderer before he flicked away the hair and dragged you inside Nahida’s sanctuary.

“She was disappointed that you were absent the entire Interdarshan event thing. Where in the abyss were you?” The puppet hissed, his grip on your wrist tightening. Somehow you found it far more comforting compared to the times where people would treat you like some fragile object that could break at any second.

What’s not comforting however, were his words. You couldn’t bear the thought of letting Nahida down, and now you’re faced with that very thought becoming a reality that you now have to get through just for the sake of your sanity.

You smiled a little despite seeing the Dendro Archon’s back turned while she minded her own business. There was always something comforting when wasting your hours away inside the sanctuary. Just having to teach Nahida from your old world knowledge about people, and to an extent even teaching the Wanderer with your wisdom that rarely pops out (according to him, with full intent to insult you). It’s not as daring as the time Venti decided to fling you up and catch you or Ei’s insistence on you eating your tenth dango during your walks.

For now however, you had one goal in mind — and that is to make amends with your favored archon and puppet.

Teyvat altogether created an unspoken rule to never ever doubt you — the Grand Overseer. You have a position that transcends even farther than the Primordial One, your eyes that gaze on many universes and worlds. You are the one that took care of the blooming life in each planet that teemed with it, thriving under your guidance.

There was a collective decision among all gods and mortals alike to never doubt your endeavors, much less your love for them. You care a lot about them, and based solely on your constant descent towards their world, it seems as though above all other worlds, you favored them. They were the proof of your benevolence, granting the residents your presence while you walked among them.

Right. That was the case that everyone agreed upon.

However, there was an underlying layer of unease. Heaven forbid may it be doubt; they could never! But perhaps… a tiny bit of uncertainty in the layer of cautiousness as the residents watched you with adoration.

It first started with the wrong names.

When Albedo, Sucrose, and Timaeus wholeheartedly welcomed your help when you visited Dragonspine with Klee. Jean was far too busy with her work and while she wished to, could not have time to bask in your presence after the announcement of your sudden arrival. In turn, you only assured her and relieved her of her added duty in watching over Klee.

Klee was the one to visit big brother Albedo, to surprise him that you were finally back. And you complied. Dragonspine is an extension of Mondstadt, and you had plans to check up on every single resident of the nation.

Suffice to say, you were quickly hooked up in a chair, pulse detectors attached to your temples while you watched Klee doodle away on the floor. For a respected overseer, you certainly were a people pleaser, letting Albedo scan you out of his own volition (Sucrose was fussing the entire time, she didn’t want you to be hurt in the process, after all!).

“Look Grand Overseer! This is you and me and Dodoco!” Your vision was quickly filled with a flurry of bright colors on paper, one that was filled with an abundant amount of red and the other with the colors of your clothing.

“Ah! So it is! Good job, Hook!”

Everyone in silence soon tore themselves away from their work, looking at you with evident confusion.

Klee blinked, tilting her head as she looked just as lost and surprised as the other three researchers in the mountain, “Hook? That’s not how you say Klee…”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage and tried to save it with a cough, “D-Did I now? Ah, my bad… I meant to say was that you… did a great job! It immediately hooked me in!” It was a half-baked excuse — hell, call it a raw excuse even and everyone aside from Klee caught on as the explosive child beamed with pride, just happy that you loved her heartfelt creation.

Albedo eyed you in suspicion before returning to his work.

Then there was your misplaced reminiscence.

In your defense however, Snezhnaya does feel like Belobog. Sometimes… most definitely not because of the fact that both places are constantly subjected in a thick layer of snow.

The Tsaritsa was all but cruel to you. She loved you like any other archon out there and always basked in your presence — even keeping you for herself a week or two longer, leaving the next nation in your rotation of visitation completely restless at your tardiness. However in her gentle kindness was a terrifying beast that laid dormant.

Only then did you catch a glimpse of it on the morning that you and her spent on your appointed room in the palace, both you and the Cryo Archon siting on the balcony while you sipped on a hot beverage, enjoying the mountainous coated in freshly fallen snow.

You sat your cup down and blew on your hands. The Tsaritsa laughed at your actions, pleased that you can truly feel the love she embodied through the cold winds of her icy nation.

“Cold enough for you, Grand Overseer?” She jested with a light tone.

“…Yep…” your teeth lightly chattered. “…T-This place is a lot c-colder than Belobog, I’ll tell you that… B-But not more than Jarilo-VI as a whole…”

All of a sudden, you could feel the creeping coldness from beside you and looked to where the archon sat, her striking eyes looking at you with curiosity… with a smidge of coldness behind them.

“Pardon? Not colder than where?”

Her tone was pressed despite her sweet adoring smile. She took pride in her sovereign kingdom of cryo. It was all for you, to feel the comforting cold after you spent your last stay with Murata in Natlan. This was her giving you love, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough?

The better part of your mind decided to feign ignorance. And you lived to see another day.

And then the sudden secrecy.

By all means, of all people, Zhongli indulged in your stories the most. Whenever you visited Liyue, you were almost always found beside him if Ningguang wasn’t asking for your presence or if you weren’t getting coerced into another drinking competition with Beidou and her crew. And in this case, you were preoccupied with a little something while you accompanied Zhongli in his usual spot.

He listened earnestly to the storyteller while you busied yourself writing a little something on a parchment you had acquired from the Wangsheng parlor when you fetched Zhongli for his break.

And ever so slightly, he’d find himself glancing at your hunched over form, while you stewed in your little activity. He didn’t particularly mind the lack of conversation from you. Having you beside him was more than enough, actually. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to have him be just as engaged in your little agenda, would it?

The former archon peered at your work, only to be faced with scripts that were oddly reminiscent of Liyue’s characters. Albeit there were significant changes that made the language still all too different from his nation.

“…Might you be translating ancient texts, Grand Overseer?” He inquired and was met by a suspicious jolt from you.

It was a text Dan Heng gave you before to practice the language used in the Xianzhou fleet. Only now did you have time to do his little practices upon your descent. You had plans to check up on everyone as soon as you were done in Teyvat, and perhaps impressing Yanqing with your language prowess was a good party trick (and eventually not get bullied into eating something spicy because of your ignorance).

“Ah! N-No—! I— yes. No.”

Zhongli tilted his head and you were quick to recall your flubbed answer, shoving away the parchment into your little pocket. There was a frantic look in your eyes and Zhongli was concerned, naturally.

You used to be so willing in divulging everything to him in exchange for his stories, with the both of you managing to talk from dusk to dawn without fail with him needing little to no sleep and the time dilation that your body couldn’t seem to adjust to. You weren’t afraid to share what you were preoccupied with, and even often let him experience new things from your own world.

So why are you keeping secrets now?

But perhaps, the breaking point was your standoffish nature.

Aether has always cherished his raw connection with you and was proud to wear his closeness to your divinity, not because of infamy, but because of how incredibly special you treat him. While, certainly, you have made the people of Teyvat special on your visits, but what sets him apart from the rest is your adamant expression of affection towards him. For some reason, he was favored alone, not as a part of a collective unlike Venti and his people, or Zhongli and his. He alone was yours to indulge, even more behind closed doors in his teapot realm.

However… something was off after your abrupt visit.

Something had changed when you came home.

You were far more distracted, occupied with that tiny device you always held in your hand. Suddenly, Paimon wasn’t the loudest one in the teapot mansion with the incessant beeping that your phone made. It never did that before, it was always tucked away somewhere, sometimes even letting him place it in his inventory if there was little time to go back into the teapot.

He had always deemed your mode of communication useless. Especially on your travels. It was always so silent, like a useless artifact that you keep on you.

But suddenly it was teeming with life, buzzing endlessly that could drive any man with weak resistance into the threshold of insanity. You’d often pick it up and grant the little device a heavenly smile and proceed to be on it for hours upon hours.

It was a heartbreaking time for him.

It was heartbreaking whenever he would peer at your device, only for you to keep him in the dark as you made some lame excuse.

It was heartbreaking whenever he could no longer recognize your words when you talked about your own anecdotes, throwing name after name at him while he listened intently.

And oh was it heartbreaking when you called him by the name of someone else.

“[Name], have you seen my earring?” He took pride in his informality with you showing your comfortability and familiarity with the renowned traveler.

“Over on the table, Cae— ther… Caether… Aether.”

Not so much with that tiny slip.

Yes. Perhaps that was it. And all the preceding reasons.

Perhaps it was why you sat like a condemned criminal in the court of Focalors, as every archon looked at you with scrutiny and skepticism in their eyes. Only sweet Nahida looked at you in concern. Ah, your poor child. You’d rather her look away than experience the possible punishment you were about to receive.

“Grand Overseer, make no mistake, this is a trial born from the accumulated concerns of us all. This is a trial born… from our love.” The hydro archon’s voice bellowed through the courts. She normally wasn’t one to personally try the defendants, however you were a special circumstance.

You always were.

…Sure doesn’t feel like it…

“M-May I at least know what my charges are…?”

“Infidelity, Grand Overseer.” Ei answered for the collective. “I can only hope you are not found guilty.”

You grimaced. You’re quite glad that this was a private trial, with only the archons, retired or otherwise, gazing at you. Make no mistake however — this was an intimidating position to be in. You may be the Grand Overseer, but you’re quite sure the only thing keeping you alive is their thinly veiled fanaticism and adoration for you. Otherwise, you would have been incinerated long ago.

It might have been your luck. But it was something you would wholeheartedly thank as the moment Focalors slammed her gavel down, the horrifying screech of something you can only classify as a hideous ally pulled you out of your impending doom.

The alarm on your phone rang incessantly, a glaring reminder of your subpar and mundane reality, waking you up from a dream that you could barely remember.

You shot up, only realizing you fell asleep in front of your own computer. You looked up to see your game open, with your beloved traveler gazing down at you with a disappointed frown on his face.

You chalked it up to your awful sleep and rubbed your eyes, closing the game and migrating to the other, where your in-game phone was filled to the brim with messages.

Smothering a yawn in your hand, you can only shake your head.

“My games have been really weird lately. I should probably leave them alone for now. Maybe have fun with Elysia and the girls.” You muttered to yourself but not before powering your computer down.

Truly, your utter cluelessness is bound to drive everyone insane.

Fret not however, they will make it work. They will let you know of their sentience. They will make sure that you are aware of how much they admire you.

It’s only a matter of time until then.

[trashyreptilian]

Another reference sheet done. This one took way longer than expected lmao,,

Reblogs are appreciated! :3

===============================================

Biography (long read):

-General Info-

Full Name: Him Age: Ageless (Formed in 1975.) Height: 8'0'' ft Gender: Male Sex: Sexless Species: Wrath simulacrum (Inceptor) Homeplace: Huntstrail, Michigan (US) Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Biromantic Asexual

-Other Info-

Personality?: Him is looked down upon by its own species, and had earned himself the status of an outcast during its earlier years. This is why he typically tries avoiding other simulacrums. However, due to its past connection with an underground brawl ring, sometimes it gets entangled into fights. Whether they're started by others, or by it desperately seeking relief from its own mind, trouble follows it either way. His hostile attitude doesn't make it better. One would expect it to display this kind of violence upon humanity, instead of fellow demons. But Him's uncaring on the matter, reasoning that it's acting in self-defense and showing some justice for all the human lives its kind take away. It evidently feels far more sympathy for humans, aware of how fragile and complex they are. He has a fascination in their way of living and thinking. Even gained a lot of knowledge about their history and other topics in his own free time. With its closest relationship being with a human, the odd fondness is no surprise. Although having poor management of negative emotions, it represses them for the few he cares for. It can't bear to unload its burden onto anyone. Him tends to be just cold in general, but when comfortable he's willing to show his much nicer and curious side. It knows how to be gentle. When it feels an attachment to someone, he'll display genuine gestures of care and will be willing to spend time with them if asked.

Thinks Before Acting?: In a neutral state, sure. Unfortunately, that might fly right out the window once it's starting to become agitated. Pure blinding rage can easily take a hold of it. Making it impulsively lash out or spew out some truly heinous words, that it may or may not regret later.

Positive Traits?: Selfless, inquisitive, caring, persistent, attentive and loyal.

Negative Traits?: Impatient, self-loathing, aggressive, over-protective, stubborn and vindictive.

Way Of Speaking?: Only speaks fluent English and has no noticeable accent in its speech. His voice is low and gravelly, and usually stays at a calm tone. Which makes him more intimidating when talking, without ever having to raise its volume. But when he does, it steadily sounds more demonic. With inhumane growling interrupting its words while trying to talk. (Headcanon voice: https://youtu.be/cFHCt0eE3P0?t=5460)

Occupation?: Doesn't have a profession to uphold. He'd rather steal cash and goods if absolutely needed. Neither does it have any simulacrum tasks, duties, or anything else alike. Since he's trying to maintain self-isolation from his community. Though unless, you consider being the surrogate father and only caretaker of a young adult, a job by itself. Then yes, it still has his hands full with parental responsibilities.

Powers/Skills?: His species have unique powers and abilities. Though, what kind varies. It doesn't just depend on what stage they're at, but which sin they have too. Simulacrums are also far more biologically advanced than humans. So besides excluding most biological traits in this section. Here are all the noteworthy powers to mention. Within biological traits; aura detection and night-vision. Can tell what species someone is by naturally feeling their aura, the other one lets him see crystal clear in the dark. Within evolutionary abilities; body alteration, it can twist and contort his body in whichever way wanted. That's truly useful when under high negative emotions, as he'll morph into something that gives him a more uncanny and beastly-like look. Surface adhesion, free to walk or sit on walls and ceilings without the risk of falling. Personal matter manipulation, power to manipulate the entirety of its own being into a different state of matter. Either black smoke, or black liquid. It's a perfect way to flee and to get in through somewhere without notice. While in use, he's still fully sentient and is even able to talk. But the voice will be much quieter, less comprehensive. When materialized, he can also alter his overall shape and volume. Within sin-based abilities; primal strength. Simulacrums are already much stronger than humans. Now just times that typical strength for a wrathian by at least 10 and maybe more. Him always uses his teeth in combat the most. As he possesses two sets of uneven sharp teeth, one appearing up front, the other at the back of the first set. The only kind of drawback is that in some instances, it may go overboard and reach an animalistic state of mind. Kinda like a severe rush or high. But for someone who's experienced, like it, he manages to use this as a deadly advantage. Heightened senses, perception of external stimuli is very strong. His sight, smell and hearing are way more sensitive. But one sense that's particularly strong for him, is smell. If there's any kind of scent to fixate, he can track it down. At times, he's capable of visualizing a clear line of smell.

Hobbies?: Most beloved pastime of his is reading books, there's nearly nothing topping that. Soon in its first week of living, it quickly grew a passionate fascination for human literature. Since then it's been near impossible to see it without a book in its hands. Favorite genres are history and biology, texts that explore factual knowledge are its typical go-to. Given the chance, it'll go on a lengthy monologue about a random topic it happened to read recently. Happens to like board games too, which is mostly influenced by his son, Alfred. Though, it prefers simple card games as they cause less frustration. One hobby that might be a bit unexpected. Would be teaching his pet cat tricks. Some context. An unusual fixation it developed, was for felines. Whether it's big wild ones or tiny domesticated ones, he loves them all. Due to certain circumstances, it couldn't get its hands on a cat for a long time. When finally given one, it didn't take long to get attached. He soon started basic behavior training but later moved on with teaching tricks. And it continues to do so. He also likes to roam around random areas of his city. While it'd rather spend time inside, like a stay-at-home dad, it won't shy away from exploring. But he's very careful to not get caught by anyone. It'll hide and observe from a distance, usually people-watching. Arguably only one pastime surpasses reading, and that's spending time with his son. While he does ask at times, it prefers letting Alfred offer his time when he can. So far, it has rarely refused anything he's offered. Even if it felt like it needed to.

Habits?: Frequently smokes, nearly every day. Sounds bad at first but since he's a demon, there are no consequences. He likes the "feel" of it, and unironically loves the bad smell. When experiencing really bad stress, anxiety or annoyance, it roughly bites at its own skin. More precisely, usually his hands or arms. It clings onto the skin, letting his teeth sink in deep. There's been moments where it almost bit off a finger. However, the worst tendency it has is the way he handles negative emotions. It often chooses to bottle everything up, and deal with his problems alone. It'll lie or change the subject when anyone brings up its issues. In return, this creates a sort of vicious cycle where it bottles up its feelings, refuses to handle them in a healthy manner, violent conflicts ensue against random simulacrums to calm itself, and then later acts as if nothing's happened, pretending to be moving on.

Relationships? (Simplified): Its closest relationship is with a human, Alfred Thorn. It has known them for nearly their whole life, first interaction happened when he was 1 years old. Though, the original purpose of it even being around the little Thorn family was much sinister. It was there to replace his human target, Alfred's actual biological father. Replace them in a rather dark, literal sense. But due to it stalling its own progress, the target in question had abandoned the family when Alfred was 3. And before he could even notice the demon secretly living in their house. It had two choices; hunt the target down, or stay where he was for the young boy. A simulacrum wouldn't even entertain the second option, but Him grew attached to the child. Feeling a strange protective instinct just towards him, despite the confusion at his own unnatural feelings. From that point on, it decided to take the role of a father figure. Learning how to take care of a human child. During the early years, it was very conflicted with its own actions. Questioning if what it did was right, or moral. He eventually came to terms and stuck by with its decision. Interacting with a human has pretty much influenced the way it thinks. Nowhere near a perfect parent, but clearly loves Alfred and is overprotective of them. He has given it a sense of purpose for its existence, it greatly values that. Even the name "Him" he gave it, was kept. One thing it struggles the most with him, is opening up emotionally. Mostly because of his own personal struggles. Naturally, his tendency to bottle things up had rubbed off onto his own son. Yet despite it, they've formed a strong familial bond and friendship. Both are secretive of this relationship, for rather obvious reasons. They now live together as outcasts. Trying to make the best out of their lives while living in a small crummy apartment.

There's another human he's familiar with, Simon Belrose. Them and Alfred are very close friends, at some point he should have met Him. Even if it was never planned to happen. Their first encounter was rather terrible due to unfortunate circumstances. In which Simon didn't exactly see Him in its friendliest state, even though the aggression wasn't directed towards him. To say the poor guy was shocked to find out that his closest friend had been raised by some kind of demon, would be a huge understatement. It took a while for either of them to talk with one another. Him allowed Simon to approach it at his own pace, and remained avoidant whenever they happened to be in the same room. The last thing it wanted was to scare them more than he already did. Once they actually managed to strike up a conversation, things steadily got easier as Simon felt comfortable being around it. Both were able to strike up a basis for friendship with their common admiration for literature. Simon slowly introduced it to the fantasy genre, then moved over to Broadway musicals and everything else related to theater. As time flies, getting to know each other better, doing activities together. Simon sees Him as a supportive uncle figure. And it; views and treats them like he was just another kid of his.

Moving onto otherworldly beings. Xanthan, a theraangel, is someone Him was unaware of up until Alfred introduced them. It had absolutely no idea his son had been talking to this stranger in secret. Thing of note; as a simulacrum, it had believed that angels were long extinct because of the Overlord's indoctrination. Their first meeting also went terribly to put it simply. It had started awkwardly, then nearly ended in a physical fight if not for Alfred standing in between the two entities. Once they could manage a somewhat level-headed talk, Him was skeptical at the suggested idea of redemption. The angel insisted since its fatherly-like relationship with a human made it a fit candidate. Its hostile attitude was held back from getting worse by Alfred's insistence to trust the stranger. Through some arguing, it agreed to try the whole redemption thing. But only in exchange for Xanthan's proposed guardianship over Alfred, becoming his guardian angel. After that, they remain barely tolerant of one another. At a much later point, they feel more respect for each other. Him begins to admire Xanthan's way of fighting, and gradually grows interested in his past as a former envy simulacrum. Thanks to that, a friendship finally forms. As they both continue to bond, and feel genuine care for the other. The unexpected closeness they develop, makes its feelings complicated to its confusion. And at a further date, when Xanthan confesses his romantic love for it, just makes him even more confused. It doesn't give a proper answer to his confession, instead asks for some time to think it over. With Alfred's help and encouragement, Him reciprocates Xanthan's feelings. Kickstarting its first romantic bond.

Mentioning enemies. It doesn't have any troubles with humans, at least it seems like so currently. In the past, it had some violent thoughts about Alfred's biological mother. Whom was a relapsing alcoholic, and targeted her abuse only onto Alfred. But since moving away from the house, and into an apartment with his son. Neither have given her as much thought anymore, at least they try not to. Other simulacrums typically fall onto this term, mostly the ones Him has had fights with. Only the ones who survived the first time anyway. There's no particular rivalry with anyone. Yet one figure will cause trouble in the future, a simulacrum who perfectly contrasts Him in every way. A sort of walking reflection of everything it could have been if not for its empathy towards humanity. Another fairly important simulacrum to mention would be a fellow wrath simulacrum (specula). It's someone Him had working relations with, tying back to its past with an underground brawl ring. They had a little friendship going on, until certain events escalated and had to cut ties. Him is entirely silent about them, not even his son knows of them. They've only ever seen each other by accident, maintaining a frenemies vibe when briefly talking. Lastly, Lucifer. The Overlord, its creator. Him's disobedience wasn't looked over. The way it delayed taking out its target was one thing. But what really got it under their radar were the rumors spreading around that it had begun to care of a human child. Lucifer confronted Him merely once. Making it crystal clear that its actions were immoral, and if it caused any major fight back against their plans, they'd take care of it immediately. Since then, neither have come face-to-face again. What they said, ingrained into Him's psyche. While it's no longer loyal to them, no less it still fears what the Overlord’s truly capable of.

================================================

General rules for all of my FCs and OCs:

-While I'm fine with getting inspired by my work, please do not just steal the designs. -I am uncomfortable with my characters being unknowingly shipped with other people's characters. -Fanart is all well, great and welcomed! As long as it isn't sexual. I'm fine with gore but please, keep my characters away from your own sexual material.

[vasito-de-leche]

Hi! I read about your super cool Self Aware R1999 AU and it got me thinking about what Sonetto would be like, since I have a 100% bond with her in the suitcase.

Would she try to keep normalcy? Have a brand new idle line? Perhaps pull a Monika DDLC and start writing poetry where she tries to grapple with the fact that there’s an eldritch being puppeteering her best friend?

;R1999 SONETTO - Self-Aware AU

Headcanons about how Sonetto would act upon becoming self-aware. Related to this Self-Aware AU post.

glad you like the AU! this was a nice chance to explore Sonetto's character more <3

To organize my thoughts better, I gotta talk about Sonetto first for a bit.

I definitely talked about this with a few friends, but Sonetto is a wonderful character to me because I both dislike and feel for her a lot - especially in the new 1.4 Main Story update. The emphasis the game puts into her role as a military dog (raised to follow orders and die for a cause she doesn't truly understand) and a lost puppy (a curious and dependant child believing her caretakers have the best of intentions) really lives up to the way she portrays these same traits. Yes, it's awful to see her continue to perpetuate the harmful ideas the Foundation taught her, but it makes sense. Yes, it's lovely to see her slowly break away from everything she's ever known, and yet revert back to her habits because change is difficult. The way she works perfectly as a foil to Vertin, it's so good!

To me, Sonetto is a character that resists change, while yearning for it at the same time. That's why her Medium is curiosity, after all. It's so lovely and ironic to see THE perfect example of a Foundation martyr being set up for failure in something that they couldn't have even foreseen, her own Medium, her own innate curiosity.

So with this in mind, I think that within the Self-Aware AU ... I think she would be able to deal with this sudden awareness of everything being fake, because her first reaction would be to assume there's something wrong with herself for thinking something so outlandish, so beyond what she was taught. Sonetto would still resist this change - if this is a game, then she's not meant to be aware of it, therefore she's the one at fault and perhaps, broken in a way.

Maybe "broken" is too heavy of a word, I imagine it's more like she believes she broke the rules by gaining this level of sentience. That it' wasn't supposed to happen in the first place.

How would she act overall?

I feel like Sonetto would be relatively fine upon becoming sentient because of this, she'd be shaken but would continue to do as expected and follow the script like a proper little chess piece, one of the many cogs needed in the machine - her reasoning is simple: if everyone who is self-aware began to act out, there wouldn't be a game to play. And what would happen to her friends, then? If this stability that the plot and script brings is suddenly gone?

There would be times where she might slip up, but they'd be very subtle changes in the her dialogue - perhaps the inflection of her voice, rather than the words - she might pause for longer to think, to consider whether to do anything outside of what she's expected to. But that's about it.

The problem begins when she finds out (or is told) that the Foundation had known this truth about the world they live in for longer than she's been alive. Sonetto remains docile entirely to keep that order and harmony she's been raised to maintain, but to find out that the very people who taught her that have known and done nothing but lie to everyone - that would be the catalyst for her.

Personally, I like to think that this is something she figures out on her own, rather than being told. A truth she must face on her own instead of just accepting someone else's words.

Her behaviour would still largely remain the same whenever she knows she has a part to play, but in those moments when she knows there's no "camera" looking at her, Sonetto would... sit there. WIth the way I've interpreted Sonetto, she's a character that struggles to actually have an identity outside of the Foundation's training, so now that this is something she can't rely on, she's at a loss as to what to do with this newfound freedom.

I imagine this is when other arcanists who were self-aware before her would start reaching out to Sonetto and slowly give her that stability she needs.

On the subject of Sonetto's relationship with Vertin.

The way I interpreted Sonetto and Vertin's dynamic, I don't see them as best friends!

From reading back some scenes and transcribing most of CH 03 of the Main Story, it feels like both Sonetto and Vertin have always found themselves in a one-sided relationship: when they were kids, Sonetto rejected Vertin's attempts at becoming friends because of their differences, even if they were both curious about each other. They never striked me as close. Now that years have passed, Vertin treats Sonetto similar to how she treats everyone else, while Sonetto explicitly wants to be closer to Vertin due to what happened when they were kids.

To me, Vertin has shown more emotion to Schneider and Madam Z than to Sonetto. There's this one-sided dynamic again.

In the context of the AU, I think Sonetto finding out about what Vertin goes through with this entity and this role that the game forced upon her, she would double down on her feelings to protect Vertin. There's a lot of guilt involved, since - once again - that's what the Foundation teaches to all orphan arcanists, to repent for their unruly and destructive existence.

I think Sonetto would feel guilty for not gaining sentience sooner, while Vertin has been struggling with this heavy weight for God knows how long. She would recontextualize everything about Vertin, her actions and the differences that constantly got her into trouble as a child, her desire to escape - attributing all of it to this entity that follows her. Because I do think that Sonetto idolizes Vertin to a degree that fuels this one-sided dynamic between them, not out of malice of course, just like a puppy.

So in the end, Sonetto would resent the Player and worry even more for Vertin, now using this as a justification for acting out of line and out of script, as Vertin's self-imposed protector.

It would take Sonetto a looooooong time to do anything with her sentience and freedom, beyond continuing to support Vertin. Her poems and her art would reflect this progress slowly, but yeah, not a lot of noticeable changes.

Reaching 100% Bond with Sonetto.

This is a very conflicting event for Sonetto, I'd say.

The more attention you pay to her, the more aware she becomes of your influence - and now she has to come to terms with the fact that there is no way of separating you from Vertin. She can't free Vertin from this fate, and it doesn't look like she wants that to happen either, but it eats Sonetto from inside out. Because she doesn't understand, and she wants to know why this is the way things are meant to be.

When it comes to reaching 100% Bond with her, or levelling her up and so on, I don't think she'd pay much attention to the mechanical aspect of it all. She's a skilled arcanist, she's the first important character the game gives to you during the tutorial stages, she knows just how important her Disarm ability can be to win a battle - of course you would want her on your team.

But as she slowly spends more time with Vertin and the Player, I think Sonetto would start to wonder about the outside world. They're small, little and impulsive thoughts in the back of her mind, like wondering if you too have someone in this fictional little world that you care about enough to see the story through the end. Are you capable of loving someone that can't reach out to you nor acknowledge your presence? Isn't it cruel, for those who remain blind to the truth, to be so loved and cherished by you?

Do you read the newspaper the same way Vertin does? Do you care about her? About her goals and dreams and thoughts?

This is the only way Sonetto can reconcile this resentment she has for you: through Vertin. I think Vertin would eventually notice all these subtle changes, the way Sonetto never looks truly happy whenever she looks at Vertin, looking above as if she could catch a glimpse of the Player. And Vertin would help through the whole process, easing up to sentience as a whole, to accepting the Player's existence as just something that is there, neither good or bad.

While she's one of the very few who has no trouble differentiating your actions and influence from Vertin's own free will, she would eventually come to respect your choices. Doing her best and beyond whenever you choose her to battle, because now the stakes are higher - now, she's choosing to fight for something she fully understands and cares about.

I like to think that Sonetto can't hear you, but she might be able to see you. Little glimpses here and there, when she happens to look up at the sky, and she sees you cheering after beating that one level that's been giving you a headache. I like to think that she would share these details about you with Vertin, if only to ease her own mind about the complex dynamic you have with THE Timekeeper.

But at the end of the day, this is progress and these are many changes that happen out of your field of vision. Perhaps, one day, Sonetto will gather the courage to thank you for taking care of Vertin when no one else would.

[weirdstrangeandawful]

What is whump?

I get asked this question a lot so I figured I'd just make a post about it! I doubt a lot of people will see this since I'm a small whump blog but at least a few people will have a quick reference.

The short answer is that whump is a fictional genre of media. Like any genre, it's difficult for one person to entirely characterise but I'll do my best.

Whump is a fictional genre focused on the experience of pain. This can be physical pain or emotional pain. The pain could be acute or chronic. The focus could be on the recovery from the pain or on the pain itself. It's a super versatile genre!

Some frequently asked questions:

Okay, but how is this different from hurt/comfort?

This is a complicated question (hard to entirely characterise an entire genre, eh?) and it really depends on the writer. For me, hurt/comfort is a subset of whump where the comfort is required whilst whump is the larger, overarching genre where comfort is not an absolute necessity, but many others have different opinions!

What is a whumpee?

You'll often hear writers (especially prompt writers) in the whump community refer to characters as 'whumpee', 'whumper', and 'caretaker'. These are placeholder names like your good old A, B, and C. 'Whumpee' refers to the character experiencing the pain (literally 'the one being whumped'); 'whumper' is the (optional) character causing or contributing to the pain; and 'caretaker' is the (also optional) character helping care for the whumpee and alleviating the pain.

Why would I support someone who thinks people should experience pain?

Pain and adversity are facts of life. In fact, many of us as whump writers and readers engage with the genre to cope with pain and adversity in our real lives. It's important to remember that whump is a fictional genre and someone's interest in the fictional themes portrayed really aren't a reflection of what goes on in their real life. The name 'whump' may be contemporary but this is definitely not a contemporary genre (Shakespearean tragedies anyone?) so there is no use criticising its existence. If you don't like it, that's okay! Scroll on by and block the #whump tag if you need to. Like many artists, we're an accepting community and won't judge. In fact, we probably understand better than most that there is too much pain in the world and not everyone wants to read about more of it.

What's the difference between whump and BSDM/kink?

This is a complicated and very individualised answer. The oversimplified answer is that BDSM and kink are explicitly sexual/sensual whilst whump is not necessarily related to sex. But that is extremely oversimplified and doesn't cover all or even most people's experiences with either whump or BDSM/kink. The most generalised answer I can give is that whump is an overarching genre whilst BDSM and kink are individualised cultural practices and activites. But even that needs nuance and context to understand and apply. For me personally, I don't like combining the two because I experience them in very different ways, but that's just my experience!

Edit: I realise that I was not clear in the above answer. BDSM and kink are absolutely not inherently sexual at all. In my personal experience, I've found there to be a lot more overlap between BDSM/kink and sexual experiences than with whump but this is not true for many and maybe most people. No one person is qualified to answer this question.

[melpomenelamusa]

Little whump intro ❤️‍🩹

Hi! I´m Melpómene.

I decided to make a small introduction focused on the whump community. I don't know since when I started liking these genres: Whump, angst, hurt/comfort… Maybe since I was a child. I was very impressed to see my favorite characters go through very hard situations, face them and then have their well-deserved happy ending. That changed my brain chemistry in some way, hahaha. And when I started writing, I decided to do the same with my OCs.

My favorite whump prompts 💜:

Non-human whumpee (vampires, mermaids, fairies, demons, yes yes yes! I love it when the final enemy is humanity itself)

Parental caretakers (I´m soooo weak for found family dynamics)

Used as bait

Kidnapping (Restraints, Bound and Gagged, it´s a total yes)

Magic whump (I love magic! Magical torture, magical fatigue, magical powers that cause pain…)

Fainting, collapsing, unconsciousness

Randsom/Hostage situation

PTSD and trauma recovery

Manipulator whumper

Crying, emotional angst, psychological whump

Anything that ends with a recovery and comfort arc

Whump prompts I don´t like 🚫:

Noncon

I really don´t like anything that is sexual, sorry, it´s my ace sex-repulsed self talking

Major character death (I like happy endings where all the characters I love live happily)

Gore (Dismemberment? Inhumane torture with no chance of recovery? No thanks, not my thing)

Brainwashing (depending on how it's used I can enjoy reading it, but I'm generally not a big fan)

Dehumanization (I like it when, despite everything, whumpers take care of their whumpees, at least giving them ways to satisfy their most basic human needs).

Wow, that's a lot of things! Well, there's probably more, but I can't think of them anymore. For those who made it this far, thanks for reading! Being part of this community will be a very interesting experience ;) I'm excited to read many stories and also write my own! This is my on-going whump story, in case you want to take a look.

See you later! ;)

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write about the Merc's with a gn! reader who loves baking?

Btw, I love your writing style! It all feels so accurate and it's helping to feed this new fixation of mine <3 <3

I see we have some food lovers in the askbox, chat. *crackles knuckles* you ask, and daddy delivers.

Mercs with somebody who gives them food

Scout:

- Depends on your current location. The gravel wars isn’t short of moving from place to place. If it’s somewhere like japan he’ll go full weeb mode and eat nothing but fish related dishes. You know speed racer? In the fucked up TF2 universe there’s a speed racer themed restaurant. Take him there. (On second thought maybe don’t go eating with him in Japan he might eat the Hiroshima rocks.)

- He swears he’s on a diet but it’s inconsistent as fuck. This is the same guy who canonically eats radiation we’re talking about here. You hand him some warm bread you baked and he’s ecstatic. You catch him sprinkling something on his slice. It’s grounded up like pepper. He’s like “This? This shit is fuckin’ perfect. The person who owns my gym back in boston recommended it for energy. Tastes great.” You read the label and you realize it’s grounded up uranium.

- If you make him homemade fried chicken he’ll nearly choke up. Seriously. nobody’s ever done that for him before. Giving him food in general is also his love language but chicken? He thinks you want to marry him forever and ever now.

—————————————————————

Soldier:

- You don’t really know what soldier likes.. He doesn’t make anything very evident and tries his hardest to make his one defining trait being that he’s a veteran. But you know that’s not true. You decide to make him some sandwiches and he’s confused. “Huh.. Well that’s some weird tasting MREs. Not complaining. It’s actually really good. Shame that civilians can’t get the same luxury right now.” He says. You have no idea how to explain that WW2 is virtually nonexistent anymore.

- Finally you settle with something. Honey with warm bread. Instead of eating slices like a normal person he just swallows the entire loaf like a snake. You are worried for this man’s intestines. He seems to be fine however.

- Gives you either a romantic or platonic kiss on the head. Your pick. His breath smells sugary and sweet and you nuzzle your head against his collarbone in response. This is his way of showing he appreciated the food.

———————————————————————

Demoman:

- I sure hope you’re capable of producing stew because that’s all he eats when he isn’t unhealthily suppressing his own hunger with scrumpy.

- You get him to eat a variety of food somehow. Although he’s picky, he isn’t impossible either. Due to growing up in an orphanage he was no stranger to having to cook for himself at times when the caretakers just really didn’t care. You exchange recipes. For some reason he has an entire Scottish cookbook under his bed. As well as a book on “Leonerdo Da Fuq’s Basic Guide To blowing Sentries Up. And making it look like an accident.”

- He’s very thankful. Demoman’s not much of a foodie. He eats to live rather than lives to eat. But your snacks hit different. They’re made with your love. That’s why they’re so much better than what he typically eats.

—————————————————————-

Engineer:

- WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU THATS HIS JOB. HE’S THE OVERBEARING GRANDMOTHER THAT WONT STOP SHOVING FOOD INTO HER KIDS MOUTH!!! NOT YOU!!!

- He eats everything you give him. Even if it doesn’t particularly tickle his fancy. His belly is big and swollen afterwards and you want to squish him so bad. That’s a pillow waiting to be laid on. He then tells you fond memories of thanksgiving and when his mother would cook his family an entire turkey dinner.

- He responds twofold by making you something as well. You wake up one day to find an entire breakfast platter laid on your end table. There’s a little sticky note there and although it doesn’t have a name on it — the dash alongside the expertly drawn symbol of his class is evident enough. Only somebody with expertise in blueprints would draw something like that. Hint hint.

——————————————————————

Heavy:

- Heavy isn’t a dumbass by any means but this is a certified Heavy L situation. He thinks you’re trying to offend him at first because people call him fat on a regular basis. Medic explains from afar that actually it’s a gesture meant to express hospitality, and upon realizing you were just being nice he looks embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.

- Lets you spoon feed him your food. He likes it for some reason. He likes any kind of meat, and protein. He eats that shit everyday. Not just that but dark chocolate and other bitter tasting foods as well. Despite his massive size he doesn’t actually eat large portions at a time.

- He knows how to make mostly deserts. Takes on a sort of mentor role and tries to teach you how to bake cakes and stuff like that. You’ve never seen Heavy in such a domesticated setting. Watching him go about cooking without breaking somebody’s skull in for once was actually kind of surreal.

————————————————————————-

Pyro:

- Cook / get them nothing but sweets. They won’t eat anything else. You begin to wonder if Pyro is even remotely human because of how much unhealthy food they eat. (But then again you’ve seen soldier survive losing both his arms and Medic sowing them back on. It’s probably fine.)

- They are unbelievably excited to see you walk into the room with plates and/or boxes. You’ve unintentionally pavloved them into associating it with your food. They clap and make grabby hands. Wanting to see what sweets you’ve brought them.

- It’s actually quite odd.. You see them retreat into their quarters to eat their food. It’s clear they’ve eaten it because they always take the plates back but you’re never allowed to see them eat directly. They don’t attend dinner with the other mercs or even breakfast.

- DO NOT LET THEM NEAR THE FUCKING OVEN. DO NOT LET THEM COOK. THE ADMINISTRATOR MADE IT AGAINST THE RULES TO LET PYRO NEAR THE STOVE.

————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- “Bloody hell.. This for me?” His voice hiked up a little. A little shocked that somebody would even consider making or buying him food in the first place, Only his parents ever did that for him. He takes it hesitantly but his expression doesn’t seem negative. Just incredibly dumbfounded. You had got him some donuts from a market in tuefort. You figured it would go well with his coffee.

- Immediately starts eating them. Sniper is both a meats sort of guy and a sweets sort of guy. Looks from side to side to make sure nobody saw him take your offer. That would be a embarrassing. He grabs the entire box and retreats into his camper van like a rat.

- He then slowly opens the door.. “Oh, right. Bugger. This is typically the moment I comfortably invite you in.” He cringes at the thought. Leaving the door open for you, and moving aside to let you in. He begins telling you the basics about how to hunt your food. For some reason it’s all incredibly dangerous aussie animals though. Some of the stuff doesn’t sound edible but he’s apparently eaten. He’s especially passionate about how to properly cook crocodiles.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- Pretentiously nitpicks the fact you brought him cupcakes. Citing his knowledge about how too much sugar consumption can kill you… whilst simultaneously eating the cupcakes.

- “Even worse yet —- they ruin your dental health. Hoo, i’d hate to be on the receiving end of a tooth filling by an angry dentist.” He says, shoving more of your sweets into his face. You wonder if he’s even self aware of what he’s doing to be honest. “Although I do envy their sadism! It’s much worse than mine, actually — Das schmeckt gut.” He adds.

- He frowns. You knew Medic had loved cupcakes in particular so you were confused at first. Well it wasn’t that. In fact it was something more stupid. “Well then again the consumption of sugar is important for our bodies, I must add. With the wrong diet we could die from low blood sugar. I wonder if it is possible to extract all the sugar from a human body using a sort of giant homebrewed syringe. It is in theory possible for me to—“ The man is at his chalkboard writing down mathematical equations again.

———————————————————————-

Spy:

- When you give him food for the first time he’s unbelievably pouty. Couldn’t you have asked him his tastes first? He hesitantly eats what you give him anyway. As long as it isn’t fried, fast food, candy or anything that wasn’t expensive as fuck.

- Incredibly good table manners. Incredibly good at cooking his native cuisine. For some reason he’s intent on insisting that french food is superior than any other food. When you’re eating with him he straightens your posture, politely puts your napkin in your lap and schools you on the fact you’re not using your salad fork or whatever. There’s way too much pointless shit on his table. Who the fuck created all these weirdly specific rules?

- Eventually he’s so tired from trying to teach you he loses his temper and crosses his arms like a discontent toddler while you eat nonchalantly. “What?” You say. Using the wrong fork again. He’s still staring at you. “What?!” You repeat yourself. “I love you, Spy.” You say. Shoving more food into your mouth. He keeps glaring at you.