#but i think the right [canon colors] is funnier | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quietwingsinthesky · 2 months

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📚🍬🔪🦷

what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?

(oh, it’s this little bit i’d completely forgotten about that i think i scribbled down immediately after finishing hellbent.)

“And what color were Clara’s eyes?” the Doctor asks, slipping it into the rhythm of their conversation like any other question. Even’s fingers drum against the metal of the staircase they’ve seated themself on, two soft thuds of flesh and two clacks from parts that aren’t very good at pretending to be fingers anymore. They tip their head to the side.

“You don’t want my memories of her, Doctor.” Even drums again. One-two, three-four. “We weren’t exactly friends.”

“Nonsense. You’d have loved Clara,” he says it on reflex. He waits for something to follow, some internal feeling that he’s correct in his assumption or entirely off base. Nothing comes.

“You loved Clara,” Even corrects, gently. It sounds like pity, and it grates.

“See? You’re already telling me things.”

“You knew that already,” Even says. “You knew, or you wouldn’t be asking in the first place.” They shift forward, crossing their arms over their knees. “Please don’t ask,” they whisper.

Post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character.

Well, let me set up my usual fallback of Supernatural to allow me wiggle room for my Doctor Who take, but: my unpopular opinion is that Jack is an adult. He’s treated as an adult in canon. Making him into a child in canonverse stuff will have me squinting in suspicion for most people. obviously, not my trusted and beloved mutuals who are Understanders (and. more importantly. who I know are not harboring some unexamined ableist ideas.) but. everyone else does not get a pass and will be gazed upon with disdain :D actually, the bigger crime of making Jack a child and simplifying him is that you’re being boring, the fun of him comes from how messed up his situation is and how his sudden jump to adulthood is both horrifying but also one of the few ways he can grasp at control.

anyway, that’s a settled hot take in place so that i can say one for doctor who that im not sure is a hot take or not because i don’t know the fandom as well. but anyway, it’s that 90% of eleven and river’s scenes together did such a disservice to both of their characters that it actively uninvested me in the romance they were trying to sell. I feel like i may have said this before, but it’s like there’s a switch they flip when it’s time for the episode’s mandated eleven and river flirting time where they both turn into much more generic characters acting in ways that feel very ooc so that the show can. i don’t know, really. create tension, I suppose? But the tension falls flat because they aren’t acting like themselves so you can’t get invested in this relationship because it doesn’t feel like it’s being built off of them connecting. And it really stands out as just, truly awful, because you’ll also have some fantastic scenes actually exploring their relationship and the effects it has on both of them, the positive and the negative, and yes, I am talking about the broken wrist scene from Angels in Manhattan again because i wish all of elevenriver was like that, and it’s not, and i’m mad about it-!

what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

okay, i know it says research but it is much funnier to me if i just say that. sometimes. you need to describe a character touching something and you need the physical stimuli in your hands to really describe it, right? right. understandable. okay, so going from that, sometimes you need your character to say, lick a chair and describe that, and you realize you have no idea how to because how would you know what licking a chair is like? and then you look at your dining room chair from across the room. and you have to make a decision here. about what matters more to you. your dignity or your accuracy.

and if you’re a good writer, i think accuracy always wins.

share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

breathing exercises are bullshit. you need to find a chant. you need to find something you can memorize and then when you feel yourself getting anxious, you need to start repeating it over and over and over. anything at all. what matters is that you’re saying it, out loud, and you can hear yourself saying it and you need to like the words so you’re focusing on what you’re saying, and this will save you. When I was in middle school, I did exorcisms. In high school, I’d repeat monologues from Hannibal to myself. Nowadays, I’m usually using the “heart. lungs. liver. nerves.” chant from slay the princess because it is short and ominous in a way that can be funny after a few repetitions and helps laugh the anxiety out of me.

and in a pinch, if you don’t have anything memorized, pull up the nearest piece of written text you have and start reading it out loud and don’t stop reading it until you’re calm again, and keep going a little after that just to make sure. Could be a fanfic you’ve got on your phone or could be an actual book. I’d reccomend the Iliad, because half of that book is just reciting name after name after name and you will start to hear how ridiculous it is rather than hearing your own anxiety, and it’ll help. you say “so and so brought 50 ships and he was the son of that guy who was king of this. and also this other dude, son of yet another guy we will never mention again, friends with holy shit another guy-“ and eventually you’re going to start giggling your way out of an anxiety attack.

#oh look i got an excuse to rant about elevenriver oops.#like. god there’s good in there!!! but also it’s so bogged down it’s frustrating as hell #ask #dw oc

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hopeswriting · 2 years

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hi, byakuwan here (again) - have you ever thought about an arcobaleno/vongola guardians roleswap AU?

hey there! (oh don't even worry about it, you can drop in my inbox as often as you want. 🥰)

i can’t say i have! i wrote a post once about the arco as tsuna’s guardians, and i have a role swap au wip, but this specific role swap never crossed my mind before. i think it’s a super fun one tho!

so like, do we swap everything? including their ages? because the idea of kid!arco--middle schoolers!arco is really sending me lmao. it’s like, the absolute mayhem that is sure to come with that, you know? just eight unhinged, feral little menaces of gremlins children, running around and causing problems to everyone but them wherever they go, and never feeling sorry or doing anything about it. AND killing people, we can’t forget the killing.

because they’d be all mafia too, right? WAIT NO them being civilians too at first, and still already being little menaces à la hibari would make this so much funnier actually. and THEN when the mafia stuff comes around they like, Do Not blink at it. are on board with it instantly. and not even because they get to kill people, tho they definitely thought about killing people before, but like. GUNS. cool suits. cool rings. MONEY. being above the law. RAINBOW COLORED MAGICAL FLAMES. and getting to rule over the mafia worldwide too they guess.

(they absolutely Do Not realize what they’re getting into when they instantly agree to it, but do they care? they don’t.)

on that note i think they’d totally be on board with inheriting vongola too. except, like. they’d want to, but wouldn’t actually be interested in it, if you know what i mean. like, they couldn’t care less about ruling, but you goddamn bet they do want to be rulers, and, of course, they make it vongola’s problems entirely lol.

AND THE WHOLE VARIA ARC DEBACLE OMG ZSFDGBDSDF!!! okay listen, listen, they’d cheat right back so blatantly and unapologetically, and without an ounce of shame. they’d just play so dirty too, they wouldn’t give a shit about the rules or cervello or whatnot. and like, these middle schoolers? i can believe they win against an elite team of hitmen without undermining said elite team of hitmen’s skills.

AND NOT NONO SURVIVING THE WHOLE THING WITHIN AN INCH OF HIS LIFE IN THIS AU LMAO. and the arco still cannot make themselves care about it. skull just wants his cool robot to work again so he can keep tearing into it. xanxus regrets all of his life choices. NONO regrets all of his life choices. the arco are having so much fun, hell yes.

but ahem, yeah, so that was about guardians!arco lol. arco!10th gen is just as much fun to think about tho!

like, how does it work? does the whole curse thing goes smoother or worse? do they fall apart after the curse too, were they closer before it happened? how do they cope with it, if at all? oh yeah and also! what are they even the strongest/greatest of?

okay but about them coping (or not) with the curse tho. idk why but i feel like they’d generally be better at it than the canon!arco. tsuna tho? he just snaps. and i’m not sure why i’m so certain about it, but he definitely Does Not take the curse well. at all. he’s so angry about it, it’s just the last straw, and then his lack of coping afterwards is ugly and ruthless. i really don’t know why, but i just feel like tsuna would be mammon in this scenario, just relentlessly doing everything he can to free himself from the curse.

but on a more lighthearted note, i feel like tsuna at the very least wouldn’t have purposefully tried to become one of the strongest, you know? honestly he couldn’t care less about it, but it just still kind of happens entirely despite his best efforts to keep living a quiet and peaceful life, and THEN he gets fucking cursed because of it?? i just think it’s hilarious that even with this role swap, tsuna still Did Not Want, Did Not Fucking Ask and is So Fucking Done with everything that’s happening to him lmao.

and then he hunts kawahira down for sports, as a treat.

(okay but also, who do you think become vongola decimo and the arco tutor in this scenario??)

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #khr asks #khr arcobaleno #vongola tenth gen #sawada tsunayoshi #khr au #role swap au #Anonymous #byakuwan

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polarisbear · 2 years

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oh fuck right au post

april fools au but sideways

(i will note literally anything except the group comps are subject to change)

these group swaps based on the april fools ones mostly come from my… dissatisfaction with them. i mean that’s a weird thing to say about a one off joke but clearly there was some thought put into it just not any thematic ones which gets a lil awkward. also why did you put all the boys in one group. no get them out spread them apart that’s literally the most boring option. so, i think these combos are funnier and have like some workable story. that’s it.

swap! leo/need

shizuku on drums (leader)

airi on bass

ena on guitar

tsukasa on keytar

theme of this group: regain lost childhood! because holy fuck! their aesthetic is based on like visual kei maybe i haven’t decided but i did want to make glam rock miku so we’ll adjust.

original name was i think oneiroi (god of dreams) for a Couple reasons but i decided to scrap that. oniiroi was a good pun though.

anyways, this group formed the same way the original april fools group did, though shizuku actually suggested it to airi and they pulled in ena and tsukasa from kami high. everyone’s backstories also remain more or less the same, bar the fact that saki instead watched just, the sickest keytar solo and tsukasa went “hell yeah time to make my baby sister happy with sick piano riffs”.

“you shoved 4 of the 6 second years in this group how is anyone alive” well champ. i thought they needed the breather from Chronic Older Sibling Syndrome

i mostly think the friendship dynamics in this one are sweet and fun and i don’t know enough vocaloid songs to make it work but i do want them to be consistently just going ham on their songs. just going all in on these hard as hell rock songs. they deserve it. they have the vocal chops.

this is their vent session is what i’m trying to convey. ena and airi are staring at tsukasa and shizuku going “are you. going to talk” and they both start dodging the question

swap! more more jump!

kanade as the composer (leader)

shiho

akito

theme of this group: just like the most ill-suited people for japanese idol work. hope is still delivered, the climb upwards is still constant. i really like the mmj outfits (this person has a magical girl bias) but like vibe wise for this group i’d probably go for a kpop idol group look. which is unpopular in japanese marketing but still

i wanted to do a pun on “messenger” but that didn’t pan out, so penumbra is a tentative placeholder. this is specifically in reference to kanade’s name and shiho’s names (a penumbra can both refer to a partial lunar eclipse and the outer edges of a sunspot), and just. overall the group could be summed up as “almost enough” yeah? there’s also the belief that eclipses are when communication opens up due to celestial bodies lining up so it fits

this group forms in an extremely complicated way ngl but an and akito’s goal is still to surpass rad weekend (in a different way. this might be undermining their integrity as musicians if i’m being honest) and they’re a bit. bitter about things. shiho is similarly bitter at her sister though things are still pretty close to canon things just got changed a little. kanade’s backstory is exactly the same and how she gets into the group is also just like the april fools version where she was just going to compose the group’s songs in the background but she got pulled in the spotlight instead. the group finds a lot of inspiration from kanade. secretly.

this was like one the first groups i wanted to changed and swap, mostly because of 1) there’s too many cool colors in the april fools swap! hell! kanade is dying in the warm color gang. akito’s here to break that up a little. and 2) i wanted the boys to Not be relegated to one group, that felt… insulting. slightly smaller reason is that i’m pretty sure akito is a canon idol fan so while i think he’d be embarrassed and not Enjoying his masculinity being “tarnished” by the public, i still think he’s doing okay. something about those “i put akito in a mmj video to torture him” videos rub me the wrong way.

the baggage gang. so much. so much in fact their miku initially calls them “the worst idol candidates i’ve ever seen. kanade at least shows some promise, she wants to have people with her music, ‘hope’ is just another form of that. you can’t treat idol-hood as just a different avenue for your pipe dreams.”

shiho’s pissed. akito’s pissed. an isn’t really but something starts gnawing at her.

anyways this all an excuse to get akito’s banjo of a voice to sing happy synthesizer

swap! wonderlands x showtime (happiness sentai sunny sunny ⭐️ wonder)

emu, the candy phoenix (leader)

kohane, the hamster phoenix

haruka, the penguin phoenix

mafuyu, the snow phoenix

theme of this group: the fight for happiness is hard, but we need to protect the smiles of the world from the evil despair! if this sounds like a magical girl premise it is. precure is just a sentai show

no notes this group is perfect 10/10, i just wanted to lean into the “sentai” part of their name. if i ever get the energy to i’d like to redesign their outfits to be sentai outfits because like Maybe that breaks the fairytale theme pheenieland has but i don’t care. i want cheese

same as canon, a little more permanently though, because like. yeah.

this plays out like a precure season but with better character writing, so every event they defeat the bad guys (old traumas and history haunting each other) and learn a moral at the end! (everyone’s smiles become a bit more real and emu worries a little less)

swap! vivid bad squad

saki on synth (leader)

ichika on guitar

mizuki on special effects

rui on dj-jig

theme of this group: childhood friends stumble into the brand new world of street music and fashion! investigate the mysteries of shibuyu and vivid street together as you dance around your baggage!

this one was made because i switched some people and everyone got grouped up here but hey i think this works! two sets of childhood friends, partner edition!

basically we take all their casual outfits and crank them up to 11 in a specific fashion subculture, like ichika is full on pink now, saki leans harder into old school hime gyaru, mizuki goes all in on the lolita look, and rui really looks like a 2000’s scene kid.

what they actually do is preform shows (dj4dj style) where mizuki and rui are in the back supporting ichika and saki preforming in the front.

i think they all spend their spare time solving urban mysteries together both the silly and real. top of the list is “who were the rising stars of vivid street, and why did they abandon it and rad weekend?” occasionally ichika wonders if that curiosity should be directed inward towards their little group but she isn’t… sure if she should pry.

swap! nightcord at 25:00

minori as the idol stan (leader)

honami as the home ec teacher

nene as the gamer

touya as the music theory knower

theme of this group: all of their dreams have been destroyed and it’s coping time! they talk about their hobbies at 1 am and yearn

i like to think sometimes nene and toya get into an autism music special interest feedback loop and honami is just smiling while minori is losing it trying to keep up with them.

because they only talk at 1 am there’s a very deep melancholy permeating through all their chats. minori is the only one to actively talk about her dreams but even she dodges directly talking about it by talking about idols instead. toya doesn’t… have a lot to talk about since he doesn’t have akito to hang out with so he just talks about the arcade. nene talks about her games which everyone tries to understand but once she gets into meta gaming all hope is lost. honami gives them all a lot of housework advice and they all love it when both honami and minori send in their dogs. but in general it’s… a bit quiet.

their sekai costumes reference what their sekai costumes would look like if their dreams where being chased, except toya who never found that dream. he’s dressed like a composer instead.

#project sekai #paper stars au #nothing special about the name i just like it #i’m also not tagging everyone that would be insane

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barbie-necromancer · 2 years

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tbh I still regularly think of that one time, in 2015, when I went into the local GameStop and the Store Manager* (basic bald white man) and this white woman were bitching about people asking for a POC Spider-man and how “PeTeR pArKeR iS wHiTe” and how they don’t want it because “iTs NoT cAnOn”.

At this point in my story, it is important to note - I have never read a single Spider-man comic in my life. I have never seen a Spider-man movie. I have never watched any Spider-man shows. All of my Spider-man knowledge is through cultural osmosis (tumblr). All of these facts hold true to this day.

I have, however, taken it upon myself to know the popular Superheroes of Color, and so knew these white people were like, super wrong.

I was trying to mind my own business. but this seriously went on for 3-5 minutes, SM was the only one working, and this white woman was the only other person in the store, and I needed to do things. So I finally interrupt.

“Oh, so I guess Miles Morales doesn’t count then?” I say, as condescendingly as possible.

SM looks at me and blinks, confused, states “..Who’s Miles Morales?”

And now, I, an individual who has never held Spider-man, get to say (somehow being even more condescending), “Oh, I guess you don’t read the comics.”

SM’s spluttering was unbelievable. “Uhh uhh i do.. read the comics..jsut not-“

The other customer left. Leaving us alone. I made him ring me up an Xbox One and immediately returned it and went to a different GameStop to get it. He needed to know what his racism and ignorance cost him.

I felt so… powerful in that moment. At the time it was just… Yeah maybe Miles will never make it big time, but I got to show this white dude up. He can google it later and know I’m right.

Anyway Into The Spider-verse is my favorite movie I’ve never seen simply because I know that there’s a white guy out there who is so embarrassed every single time that movie is mentioned within earshot. Every day that movie is loved only makes me more satisfied. I was overjoyed at the sequel.

Maybe one day I’ll ingest Spider-man, but honestly the longer I wait the funnier this story is.

#mood log #*okay but also we worked at the same mall for a while at different stores and had rung each other up #I- a former retail worker- would never do this to someone who wasn’t deserving #and he knows it because we talked about shitty customers #I think that was the last time I saw him #maybe he quit in shame

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ficklefandom · 3 years

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when she doesn’t catch you 😔

#rwby #neopolitan #cinder fall #not tagging roman bc hes not primarily involved #HES LISTENING TO NEO BTW BUT MY FRIENDS SAID ITS MORE CLEAR THAT HES SKEPTICAL OF WHAT SHES SAYING #IF HES LOOKING DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA #fair warning the colors may be a bit fucked up bc my monitor got screwed up #n now colors dont display right so.#also if i got anything wrong with the sign feel free to correct me #this joke is from brooklyn 99 btw #i draw everyone different literally every time i draw them #BUT IM GETTING CLOSER TO PICKING A PARTICULAR WAY TO DRAW THEM #the issue is that theres a lot of interpretations of characters n in canon 99% of the chars have the same facial features #so im working on figuring out specific details for each char to keep consistent #dragons hoard #i love this meme but i think its so much funnier if the person just lets them hit the floor #dragons art

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blackgirlsuperherorants · 3 years

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Stuckys, we need to talk. Like, seriously.

I understand you're upset that Stucky is not canon in the MCU, but you have got to stop yourselves from using that fact to shit all over Black characters just because of their newfound proximity to Bucky Barnes. Seriously. No, seriously. I'm going to call a bunch of you out, now, but I hope you listen and take heed.

1) This isn't about queer representation for you. It's about Chris and Sebastian being hot white men and you wanting to see them make out on screen. And that's literally fine, who doesn't want to see that? But you need to start admitting that's what it is. Because if it wasn't about that, and it was really about queer representation, so many of you wouldn't be calling Sam Wilson "sloppy seconds", and y'all wouldn't treat both Sam and Anthony like an afterthought. Even with a lot of y'all becoming Sambucky shippers, you're doing it under the guise of Sam being some sort of consolation prize because Bucky can't have Steve. Sam has no agency, and also is treated like he isn't as good. Literally, I saw a TikTok with some girl pretending to be Bucky and Sam, and having Bucky literally tell Sam he's sloppy seconds because he can't have Steve. Literally yikes, guys.

Also, it's always girl fans who do this. I'm not saying there aren't any, but I never see gay men who are MCU fans shipping in this toxic way. And I definitely have seen gay men ship Stucky, but I swear to God there seems to be a clear difference in the way they ship vs the white girls who clearly just want to watch Chris and Sebastian make out. Literally every toxic Stucky I've ever seen who does stuff like this is a white girl. I'm not going to say no gay men are toxic fans, because there probably are some, but the amount of fans I see shitting on Sam who are white girls far outweighs any toxic Stucky gay man. Like I always say on here, Stucky is an obvious ship and I understand why people ship it, but it never had to be canon and treating it like it's the end all be all, and especially shitting on other ships like Sambucky, is really weird and, again, makes it obvious that it's not really about queer representation for you.

2) Bucky is allowed to flirt with Sarah Wilson. The same girl I saw saying Sam was "sloppy seconds" also said Bucky was only flirting with Sarah because she's an "extension of Sam", and because Kevin Feige won't let Sambucky happen so Sarah is the stand in. How insulting and sexist to insinuate that a woman is simply an extension of her male family member. No matter how you meant it, that's a really sexist notion. I've seen people make funnier jokes, like Bucky can't decide which Wilson sibling he likes, or he's going to become a Wilson one way or another. Neither of those jokes takes autonomy and humanity away from Sarah. ALSO, Sarah is a dark skinned Black woman being portrayed as desirable to the white boy fave on a major TV show that is part of the biggest film franchise in the world. I'm not sure if y'all know how much colorism effects Black women, especially dark skinned Black women. Hollywood almost never casts dark skinned Black women as desirable love interests. Especially one that isn't super modelesque with basically European features and bone straight hair. This is a positive thing for representation of dark skinned Black women, and I KNOW you've seen how happy Black girls were just seeing that 2 second interaction. How dare you reduce it to being there because Marvel stole your Stucky, and especially not because she's simply "an extension of Sam." At this point, there's no clear indication that Sarah and Bucky will literally happen, but goddamn, you can't let Black girls be a love interest for just one second? Even if you like "queer Bucky", bisexual men exist, damn. Sticking Bucky with Sharon for no reason, like they did with Steve, would have been weird and bad and you would have been more valid for questioning Marvel's motives for doing it, but letting Bucky be himself and flirt with a cute girl on a boat for 2 seconds isn't a bad thing. And if Sarah does actually become his girlfriend, it's an absolute win, and you need to let Black girls have this.

Like, I get Stucky, and I also understand wishing Marvel would just finally let any main character be actually queer. I seriously understand. But can you complain about that without shitting on the Black characters and the fans who are happy about them, right now?

I never was a fan of Stucky, because I don't think you have to have romantic feelings for someone to care about them that deeply, so I don't understand the Stucky shipper assertion that Marvel somehow stole something owed to them... but I also do understand why you ship it, and it's honestly not a bad ship. You guys just take it too far and make things uncomfortable for everyone else. And, as I've been saying for years, sometimes you make it lowkey racist. People have been shipping Stevesam since CA:TWS and you guys have downplayed it the entire time, and even used Sam as Steve's stand-in for Bucky in your fics and all of that. I remember reading fics tagged Stevesam where Steve would be having sex with Sam and then reminiscing about how it was with Bucky and wishing he were still with him, and y'all literally never saw how gross that was. Using Sam like a consolation prize. Now Steve is gone and you're still treating him like that.

And Sam and Bucky have never once treated each other like a stand-in for Steve. They treat each other like individuals with autonomy, and they even care for each other on the level that the other person needs it. It's actually really fucking good, the canon version of their relationship that's unfolded with the show. If y'all could let go of Steve for a second, literally, you would see how great Sambucky's dynamic is and that neither of them would ever see the other as "sloppy seconds" or some kind of consolation prize. It's gross.

Also, I hope Sarah gets that super soldier dick just to piss y'all off.

I'm done.

#TFATWS #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Sarah Wilson #stucky #sambucky #shipping #mcu #marvel #stevesam #also if bucky was in wakanda for two years #you know he was gettin that wakandan goodgood #whether it was men women or enbies #he was enjoying some beautiful wakandan people #so you best believe he's definitely attracted to gorgeous ass sarah wilson #not because she's an extension of sam either #he can't decide which wilson sibling he likes #because he's a bi disaster #thank you for coming to my ted talk

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scuttling · 3 years

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Newbie

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 3,786 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Self-confidence issues, Canon-typical violence Summary: On Sophie’s first day at the BAU, she gets nervous. On Sophie’s second day at the BAU, they get a case. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to A03 or read below! On Sophie’s first day at the BAU, she’s a little bit nervous—change your outfit three times, run your Keurig with no cup underneath, hair up? hair down? hair up? nervous—so she takes a deep, steadying breath before pushing open the glass double doors that lead to the bullpen.

She took cues about attire from other people she saw the day of her interview, so today she is wearing a simple black and white dress with pumps and gold jewelry, and she feels she fits in, but she gets more than a few curious looks when she enters.

Her instructions are to report to Agent Hotchner’s office first thing, but she is stopped on her way there by a tall, handsome, impeccably dressed man with a frankly gorgeous smile. He’s Black, with a shaved head and a great voice, and suddenly she doesn’t mind the interference.

“Hi, I’m Derek Morgan. You’re Sophia Cortes, right? Hotch mentioned you were starting today.” She smiles warmly.

“Yes, pleasure to meet you. You can call me Sophie,” she says, reaching out a hand for a shake. “Agent Hotchner told me you’re from Chicago, and so am I. Please say you aren’t a White Sox fan.” His smile becomes even brighter, if possible. She might be halfway in love with him already.

“God, no. If you want to watch good baseball, it’s the Cubs all the way.” She laughs lightly, happy to have a little rapport with a new colleague so soon.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m glad there’s a little more color in the office now,” he jokes, and she understands where he’s coming from completely. It’s bad enough to be the only woman in the room, sometimes, but when she’s also the only person of color, she feels… inadequate, somehow. Like she has to work twice as hard to be seen, even though she literally stands out among her peers.

A blonde woman with a fair complexion and pretty, almost doll-like facial features steps up behind him, and he looks over, introduces her.

“Sophie Cortes, this is Jennifer Jareau, our Communications Director.”

“Everyone calls me JJ,” she says with a smile and a handshake.

“Nice to meet you. If you’re the Communications Director, you’ve got the toughest job in the unit, then.” JJ looks surprised, then nods her head.

“Absolutely, but don’t tell them that. They’d never believe you,” she says with a playful shove of Derek’s shoulder. “Don’t let being a profiler go to your head like this guy.”

“Who, me? I’m as down to earth as the next devastatingly handsome guy.”

“Yeah, right,” a voice says from her right, and Sophie turns to see a woman approaching them with pale skin and dark hair, bangs, a kind smile. “We love you and all, but you’re a little cocky.”

“Is it being cocky when I’m that good, though?” he asks with a wink, and Sophie already feels more at ease just hearing them talk with each other. She can get acclimated to anything when the environment is right. “This is my partner, Emily Prentiss. Prentiss, this is Sophie Cortes. The new newbie.” She sets down her bag, heads over to shake hands.

“Nice to meet you, Sophie. Love the dress.” Sophie thanks her for the compliment. “I appreciate you taking the newbie title from me; fair warning, you’ll probably be here for five years before they stop calling you that.”

“Ah, I’ve been called worse, I’ll take it.” She glances around their workspace, looks up to Derek. “Is my partner here? Dr. Reid, right?”

“Oh, he texted, said his train is running late,” JJ explains. “He’s really excited to meet you, though, so don’t mind if he’s a little… overwhelming, when he does get here.”

“You’ll fall in love with the kid, everyone does,” Derek explains, and it makes her heart feel warm. This is definitely a team she wants to be a part of. “But he can be intense.”

“I appreciate the heads up.” Before she can say any more, Agent Hotchner descends the stairs, heads toward them.

“Good morning. I can see the team has taken the liberty of introducing themselves.”

“Hello again, Agent Hotchner.” Sophie shakes his hand, and he smiles softly.

“Hotch, please. You can put your things in that desk and I’ll give you a tour, if you’d like.”

“Sure, sounds great.” The team shares a brief look, but she doesn’t know them well enough to comment, just stows her belongings and follows the unit chief. “The team was very welcoming. They seem really tight knit,” she comments as they leave the bullpen, and he looks at her, nods.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, traveling as we do, it’s inevitable. Was it not that way in Intelligence?”

“You couldn’t get those people to sit down to dinner together, let alone tease one another. They’d probably bite each other’s heads off.” They worked well together, but in private the environment could be pretty toxic. She knows Unit Chief Roberts wouldn’t have put up with it if the team didn’t get such good results.

“I can see how this environment might seem a little strange, then,” he says, opening the door for her. They take the elevator.

“Strange, but good. It reminds me of when I was a cop, and I’ve missed that kind of camaraderie.”

“Well I’m glad you felt welcomed. We really are happy to have you.” They approach a closed door which he raps on lightly; the woman who answers has a bright smile and an even brighter outfit, lime green and navy blue, with matching accessories, including green glasses. She makes Sophie feel very… plain.

“Oh, hi!” the woman says, and her grin gets bigger. “Wow, you’re beautiful.” Sophie laughs, a little taken aback, and Hotch sighs lightly like he’s used to the odd behavior. It’s all very endearing.

“This is Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst. Garcia, this is Sophia Cortes, our new profiler.” She reaches out a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. You can call me Sophie, or Cortes, whichever you prefer. And you’re beautiful, too. I love your style.”

“Thank you; I can tell we’re going to be fast friends. You’ll have me on speed dial,” she says, walking to her desk and jotting something down on a pink Post-It. “If you need something researched, narrowed down, blown up, compared, etc, I’m your girl.” She hands her the note—her direct line—and smiles. “I’m sure you have much more to see, but don’t be a stranger!”

Something tells Sophie she won’t be.

He shows her all around the office—copiers, the breakroom, supply closets, restrooms—and they end up in the briefing room, the last two to walk in.

“You remember Gideon,” Hotch says, and the man nods a greeting. Still as personable as ever, she thinks. “And this is your partner, Dr. Spencer Reid.” She’s not surprised by his age—she read some articles about him once she had his name, knows they call him ‘boy genius’ quite literally—but she is a little thrown by his nervous smile, his dark eyes, his untidy flop of brown hair. Derek wasn’t kidding when he called him kid; he looks like he belongs at an after school chess club meeting, or something.

He’s adorable. Like a puppy. She immediately wants to keep him. She smiles wide.

“Sophia Cortes, but you can call me Sophie, if you like.” He stands, and they shake hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard all about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I hear you’re from Chicago. Did you know Chicago is home to 2,716,450 residents living in over 100 neighborhoods?” She smiles wider.

“Yeah, with 600 parks, 500 playgrounds, 29 beaches, and 26 miles of open lakefront. It’s beautiful. Have you been?”

“We worked a case there, once. I didn’t get to see any parks or beaches.” He makes a frowning kind of face and she laughs softly, takes the seat Hotch offers her.

“Well you’re young, there’s time.”

“Now that we’re all caught up on introductions, we can get started,” Hotch states, and Sophie’s first morning meeting begins.

It’s a little boring, as far as first days go, but she doesn’t mind. She has access to her computer, gets it set up the way she wants, finds out from the team where all the best places are nearby for coffee or drinks or lunch. She meets with the section chief for introductions, goes over some policies with Hotch—who, she was right, is definitely funnier and more thoughtful than he must let on. He probably feels like he has to act a certain way, because he’s the boss, but she likes pulling the human out of him, makes it a personal mission going forward to make him smile.

He’s too handsome not to smile. On Sophie’s second day at the BAU, they get a case.

“I usually like to let new profilers get acclimated to the team before going into the field,” Hotch tells her as they board the plane, “but it didn’t make sense to keep you in Quantico. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Of course. That’s why I’m here, I want to help.” She stows her bag overhead. “I’ll observe, give my input when I have it, follow everyone’s lead.”

“Sounds good. You know you can come to any of us if you have questions.”

“I know. Thank you.”

They do a deeper debrief on the plane—three women have been murdered, all in their mid 30’s, athletic and blonde, last seen dropping their children off at school—and Sophie is tasked with going to the most recent crime scene with Hotch and Prentiss.

“What can you tell about him so far?” Hotch asks her while the detective on the case speaks with Prentiss about some details of the scene. She glances around the room, takes it all in.

“Well, there’s blood everywhere. Serious overkill each time. He either knew the victims, or has a deep-seated hatred for a woman they remind him of; my money is on is the latter.” She looks through the kitchen, at the bloody footprints that lead to the back door. “Tracked blood all through the house, left the back door open. He’s disorganized. He may have seen them at the school and planned to follow them home, but he didn’t do any pre-surveillance on them. Something about these women triggers him and he acts within the hour.”

“Would you call it a crime of passion, then?” She looks over, curious, then realizes he’s testing her.

“No. A crime of passion indicates some level of culpability by the victim. Provocation. These women are just in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong face.” He nods, satisfied with her answer.

“So how do we think he’s finding the victims?”

“He could have a child under his care who goes to that school, or he could live near the school, work there. He could work the night shift somewhere else and pass the school on his way home. I think it’s too early to narrow that down.”

“Any idea what weapon he used?”

“We would have to really examine the cast off to be certain, but my guess would be… a hammer, or some other small, blunt tool. This wasn’t done by a baseball bat or a shovel or something larger. We can also get an estimated height and weight of the unsub if we chart the area void of blood here,” she adds, pointing to a bare spot on the wall with blood droplets above and around it. “I’m guessing we’ll send the photos to Garcia for analysis.”

“That’s right. I agree with your assessment,” he begins, but she senses hesitation.

“But?” He looks over at her, thoughtful.

“We’re missing something.”

“We are, or I am?” she asks for clarification, and he smiles just slightly.

“We are.” She takes that as a good sign, walks another loop around the room for something they would have overlooked, and she brightens when she thinks she’s discovered it.

“Her purse is still here, cash, credit cards. Her jewelry was still on her body when she was found. But does it look to you like something’s missing from the entryway table?” She points to it, and it’s very ordinary: a calendar, a bowl for change, hooks for keys, a couple of photographs—with a notable blank space in the middle. “Maybe a photo?”

“We should ask the husband if he knows what was there. Good work,” he tells her, and he heads off in the direction of the husband; she follows close behind.

Back at the precinct, the team fills each other in on what they’ve learned.

“So our unsub killed each of these women with a ball-peen hammer, striking 8-10 times. Blood spatter analysis puts him at about 5’11”, 6’0” tall, around 275 pounds. The photo taken from the third victim’s house was of the victim and her 7-year-old son Josh; similar photos were taken from the other two homes—photos of mother and son.” Prentiss tacks copies of the three missing photos to the board.

“Sounds like maybe the woman they remind him of is his mother,” Reid states.

“That’s what we’re going with. We’re still not sure how he finds his victims, though,” Prentiss mentions, and Sophie takes a breath, hesitates.

“Do you have something?” Morgan asks and she shrugs, unsure.

“Maybe? One of the theories we threw out there was that he works overnight and drives past the school on his way home from work, when the kids are being dropped off. If he killed them with a ball-peen hammer, maybe we should look for machine shops in the area with overnight shifts? Those are typically used in metalworking, not construction.” She feels like all eyes are on her, and it makes her nervous. “That could be completely irrelevant, it’s just a thought.”

“It’s a good thought; I’ll have Garcia pull us a list, we can split up and pass around the description, see if our guy is a metal worker. Good call, newbie.” Morgan leaves to take the call, and JJ leans over with a smile.

“Don’t second guess yourself. You’re doing great so far. Theories are important, even if they’re wrong.” Sophie returns the expression, nods.

“Thanks. I’ve just gotta get used to the collaborative environment; haven’t been in one of those in a while.”

“You’d never know it. You’re fitting right in.” She takes it as a compliment, is happy to be of some use to the investigation and not just getting in the way.

The rest of the day is pretty quiet; they test out a few other possible theories, deliver the profile to the late shift, plan to hit the school early in the morning to look for potential suspects and to pass around the description to see if anyone meets it who works there, or lives nearby.

She goes to the school with Reid and JJ, speaks to teachers, janitorial staff, but none of them know a man like the one they’re looking for. She meets up with the others, who were speaking to parents, after about an hour of questioning, but they also come up blank.

“We’ve still got your machine shop theory,” Reid says as they drive back to the precinct. “The others should be done with those soon, so there’s still a chance we can find this guy today.” JJ’s phone rings, and she answers on the car bluetooth.

“JJ, there’s been another attack,” Prentiss says. “1419 5th Street—you guys are closer. Can you head over?”

“We’re on the way,” JJ answers, turning right, and Reid looks thoughtful.

“An attack? She’s not dead?”

“No. Not yet, at least. She’s being rushed to the hospital; her husband was home, caught the attacker in the middle of it all.”

“Did he get a good look at the unsub?” JJ asks.

“He’s with a sketch artist now. Hotch wants you to circulate the sketch ASAP; we think we may have a hit at one of the metal shops, if you can send it to me, too.”

“You got it.” She ends the call, looks at Sophie through the rearview mirror. “Drinks are on you tonight, newbie,” she says playfully, and Sophie can’t help but laugh. She had been so intimidated by the thought of joining the BAU, and she’s glad to see she’s useful, can actually help make a difference. It’s a feeling she won’t forget for a while.

Later that night, when they plan to try to catch the unsub before he leaves for work, she deflates, a little.

Hotch, Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid are going to breach the unsub’s house while JJ covers the front door and Sophie covers the back. She had assumed she would get to be part of the team going in, with her tactical background, and immediately thinks the worst, that they’re happy to have her brain, but that her body is a hindrance. Too short, too weak… it’s how she’s been treated her whole life, and she hates to think that she’s being dismissed here so soon for the same reasons. She tries not to let it show, but she dwells on it, a little, lets it get her down even though she knows she shouldn’t.

She snaps out of it when there’s movement on the back porch, a hulking, shadowy figure in the darkness.

“I’ve got him coming out of the back,” she whispers into her comms, and she draws her gun and points it at the unsub. “Stop, FBI!” The guy turns to face her—he fits the sketch to a tee, a real mountain of a man as the blood spatter analysis suggested—takes one good look, and goes running in the other direction.

Alright, so, he’s clearly not impressed. She can work with that.

“He’s running, I’m in pursuit.” She holsters her weapon and her boots pound the grass as she books it his way. The good thing about being so much smaller than him is that she’s much faster, catches up to him fairly easily, and again, she shouts for him to stop, which, of course, he doesn’t.

Her first thought is that she’s got to get this guy on the ground no matter what—this isn’t a shoplifter or something, he’s wanted for murdering three women and attempting to murder a fourth, so a little force is okay if necessary, and judging by his build, it’s going to be necessary.

Her second thought is, if I can’t catch him, I don’t deserve to be here. And that’s the one that makes the decision for her.

She leaps onto his back, grabs fistfuls of his shirt, and shakes him forward, backward, forward again, trying to throw off his balance. When he starts to wobble, she slides down his back, hooking a leg around one of his and driving her knee into the bend of his; he goes down, face first, and she reaches behind her for her cuffs, slaps them on his wrists before he has a chance to turn or stand. “Jason Farber, you’re under arrest for three counts of murder and one count of attempted murder.”

“Attempted murder?” he asks, turning his face so he can speak more easily. He seems pretty calm for a runner, maybe just resigned to his fate, and she leans over so she can see him better. He’s breathing fine, uninjured, and just looks pissed. “You mean that overbearing bitch isn’t dead?”

“Yep, sorry to be the one to tell you, Jason, but she’s alive and kicking.” She continues to read him his rights, and is just pulling him to his feet when Morgan and Hotch skid to a stop behind her; if they look surprised… who is she kidding? They look surprised as fuck.

“Damn, Cortes. This guy’s like three of you,” Morgan marvels as she walks him back toward the cars so he can be tossed into the back of a black and white. “Did you make him an offer he couldn’t refuse?” She scoffs at that, and even the unsub snorts in amusement.

“She tackled me. Wasn’t counting on that.”

“I don’t think anybody was,” she admits, getting him into a cop car and shutting the door. She joins the rest of the team, gets a high-five from JJ.

“Hey, score one for the ladies. We never get to do any tackling.”

“She did better than I would have,” Reid admits without shame, and she laughs.

“It’s all in the legs. I lift chains at the gym.” He gives her a look like he’s got no idea what she’s talking about, which almost makes her laugh again. “You do pull-ups, but with chains around your legs.” She demonstrates, squatting and gesturing to her legs like she’s wrapping something around them.

“Okay, you’re the real deal, newbie,” Morgan says when she stands up fully. “Remind me not to run from you unless I want a face full of dirt.” The group breaks apart after that, but Hotch lingers, gives her a meaningful look when she makes eye contact.

“I bet that felt good.” She leans against the side of the SUV, feels a deep conversation coming on.

“It did. I’m stronger than I look, and sometimes it’s fun to be underestimated, but other times it gets really annoying.”

“I can imagine,” he says, nodding, and he mimics her posture. “I just want to make sure you know you don’t have anything to prove. I hired you for a reason.”

“I know. But I don’t like being a one-trick pony, and I’m definitely not waiting around for one of you guys when an unsub is on the move.”

“And I wouldn't expect you to. As for the ‘one-trick pony’ thing, that’s not how I see you at all. You’re extremely well-rounded, and that’s why I wanted you.” His eyes are kind, but penetrating, and she dips her head, nods.

“And that’s why I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“After what you’ve shown me the last two days, I don’t think that’s possible, but I want you to know you can come to me when something’s bothering you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know. I won’t forget it,” she assures, and he stands fully, cocks an eyebrow in her direction.

“I heard drinks are on you tonight,” he says with a straight face, and she laughs lightly.

“I guess we better get going before they run up the tab, then.”

They walk in companionable silence back to the SUV.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x original female character #criminal minds fanfic #latina original female character #hotch x original female character #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader

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yazthebookish · 3 years

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It's funny how some people assume or are absolutely convinced Clotho never gave Gwyn the necklace because Gwyn never mentioned it nor was she seen wearing it. First off, why would Gwyn wear a necklace so soon after receiving it when she has no idea who the sender is? Nesta and Emerie would not have hidden their identity so yeah, I'd be weary too. Secondly, I think it's safe to assume Gwyn has the necklace per Azriel and Clotho's last conversation but evidently some people need it spelt out, word for word, especially when it comes to Azriel and Gwyn bc you know .. THAT'S the relationship that's ambiguous.

What's even funnier is that people believe the necklace will make its way back to it's 'rightful' owner. Apparently regifting someone a seconded-handed necklace is icky but gifting it back after already giving it to another woman is romantic as hell....

I just can't with these people...🤦🏻‍♀️

Yeah because Clotho knows poor Azriel is in love with Elain whom she never met, and kept the necklace until Azriel realizes through the power of true love that the necklace should be with Elain. Like you said, regifting a second-handed necklace is such a power move and the very definition of true love.

I've seen their arguments before and they actually try to change what's canon Lol. "Clotho never gave it to Gwyn" we don't know, last thing she said she would give it to her and thanked Azriel for the happiness it would bring to Gwyn. You can't even remind them of that because they fight it with every fiber of their being.

The thing is... Azriel did not regift this to Gwyn with an ugly intention like the way they're making it out to be. Yes it's a shitty move but considering Azriel's intention he thought of her and wanted to make her happy.

SJM literally used the necklace and Gwyn's image to draw the connection of their loveliness and how they burst with color under the light. A sneaky move from SJM but she still did that. “A thing of secret, lovely beauty” is a quote that belongs to Gwyn.

It might not even cause a big ass drama as everyone expects because SJM does not pit females against each other + a poor move from Azriel but I think Gwyn would see the intention behind it and understand it was with good intentions (he wanted to make her happy and give the bracelet to someone that would appreciate it).

#asks

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mydisasteracademia · 3 years

Text

Random Shigaraki Headcanons

This boi. This grubby boi. I love him so much but at the same time he would probably literally dust me so... (oof this one kinda dragged on and on... lol)

Literally has no idea about real-life relationship dynamics outside of what he’s observed in his own parents, in Sensei, and in Kurogiri. All he thinks in the beginning is that people who claim to love you will stand by and let you be hurt, that villains took care of him better than any damn hero, and that he can only truly rely on himself. (And Sensei.)

It takes a loooooooong time of interacting with other people to break himself out of this mindset, and even then, sometimes it comes creeping back if bad things happen.

Getting into canon territory with this one, but really, really, reeeeeeeeally hates heroes because they didn’t even bother to help him when he was going through a whole mental breakdown. Literally one of the only reasons he hates them so much. I know this is pretty much canon, but I doubt he would ever grasp Stain’s ideology of ‘maybe some are good’ because in his eyes, not even the underground pro heroes even bothered to see if he was okay. Remember the scene from the manga with the old lady when he was a child? Yeah. There were bound to be heroes he bumped into, even off-duty ones, and nobody even gave him another glance.

Has extremely bad abandonment issues. If he likes you, he’s gonna want to keep you because he didn’t really have anything nice to call his own while growing up, and Sensei kept him fairly isolated so he literally tolerates nobody else other than him and Kurogiri at first. Reacts horribly when his friends want to break off the friendship. Goes through a whole depressive episode for a while, his old insecurities pop back up, and he really thinks he’s worse than trash and not worth anyone’s time or attention for a while. Prime time for Sensei to further twist his mind.

On that same note, if you’re dating, for the love of everything still good in this world do not break his heart. He will never forgive you. Literally will go to the grave before he forgives you for doing what you did (whether it be cheating on him or completely dropping him like a hot potato). Although this might also extend to little issues that make him feel like you don’t love him enough, he’ll forgive you if you show him plenty of attention and apologize for whatever he was upset over. If you cannot remain patient through his toxic mindsets, it’s best not to get into a relationship in the first place with him if you want to still remain friends afterward, because breaking it off means instant heartbreak.

Anyway! Back to happier, funnier hcs!!

The whole embodiment of the “Wears black in summer because I look good and am willing to suffer” vine. Will not give up his comfy black shirt and sweats for anything because yes, he does look good in black, and yes, he is willing to suffer. He’ll switch to a v-neck tee though. Even he’s not that masochistic.

Really prone to dry skin. I know that’s canon, but just... this poor man can’t keep moisturized to save his own life. Constantly has to apply a special moisturizer that’s specifically made for ultra-sensitive skin and has no scents whatsoever.

Will gripe about having to spend so much money on ointment and moisturizer for both him and Dabi. It’s one of the very few things they bond over, other than having a shitty father and pushover family... and their hatred of All Might.

Shigaraki 100% would be Dabi’s alibi if he actually managed to kill Endeavor. When it comes to the shitty dad club, he’s a fuckin’ ride-or-die.

Kinda sensitive over the fact that both he and Midoriya have the same sort of red shoes, but he loves his pair too much to throw them out. Purposefully aims for Midoriya’s shoes every single time they meet each other on the off chance that they get ruined enough for him to get different shoes, unknowing that he literally can’t just... get differently-colored shoes due to him being originally Quirkless (yes, The Shoes™ theory strikes again)

Literally never forgets a single thing about people he cares about. He’s the type of person who will remember every single thing you tell him about yourself, and especially birthdays. While he doesn’t exactly show his affection very loudly, he would be the type of person who tell you “happy birthday” on the day of as soon as he first sees you, and would treat you a little nicer all day that day.

This boy just has the biggest, scarred heart for his ‘good crowd’. I cannot stress enough just how much like Midoriya he could’ve turned out if he hadn’t been abandoned by society. This mf would give the green bean a run for his motherfuckin money.

“I really just hate the world and everything in it... except for you, maybe I could make an exception for you because you’re nice to me and I appreciate your company too much”

Even though I hc quite a few League members to be like cats when it comes to affection, Shigaraki’s spirit animal is a cat. Likes to lounge about in off-moments, slow to affection and very quick to remember exactly how people treat him, yet if he likes you he shows affection quietly enough that it’s not obvious at first. Like “oh, you’re in the same room as me. It’s not like I missed you or anything, me sitting right next to you at the bar when it’s totally empty means nothing. The fact that I’m looking right at you when you’re talking doesn’t mean I like you.”

LOVES HUGS. If you hug him and he likes you, you’ve probably made his whole day. Depending on how things are going, probably his whole fucking week. Just please hug him, he needs positive affection so bad

Major tsun-tsun. The most tsun-tsun. Grumpy until you get to know him, and if he likes you he’ll show you in little ways: listening to your ideas more, letting you stay closer for longer, maybe getting you something like food.

AFRAID OF TOUCH. I REPEAT, AFRAID OF TOUCH. Not from anyone he likes, of course; this baby is so touch-starved that he deserves a thousand hugs. But if he likes you, he will not initiate physical affection because he’s so afraid of accidentally dusting you. The memories of his family dying (except for his father, because #FuckKotaro2k21) haunt him almost every time he dreams (and if that doesn’t, then other traumatizing events certainly do), and he absolutely would not forgive himself if he dusted his favorite League member/civilian.

Definitely likens the rest of the League to his MVPs after a while of knowing them. Knowing how he operates, it’s adorable.

Would begrudgingly let Toga play around with his hair. I can just see him sitting blank-faced, staring at the mirror as she talks about whatever while brushing and braiding it into a cute plait. He would be hesitant to undo her hard work afterward, no matter how much he grouches that it “ruins his boss vibe”.

The kind of person to go to McDonalds at 3 AM just because he was craving chicken nuggets and ranch. Yes, ranch. He’s an old-school mf who don’t got no time for no barbecue.

Gets really irritated over Toga mooning over Uraraka and Midoriya, but doesn’t stop her from talking about how much she wants to ‘be’ them. (Encourages homicide. Advises homicide. Spinner has to stop her from actually getting ready to commit homicide.)

Disgruntled™

G L O A T S about the time he took away Overhaul’s chance to use his Quirk. “Yeah, we would’ve been satisfied with Compress taking his left arm away to be petty, but then Overhaul had to be a sentient piece of dick cheese, and well, y’know I couldn’t let him get away with that”

It’s becoming a problem. The others have learnt to tune him out once he gets going. Compress just smiles under the mask when he remembers it. Nobody knows what he’s really thinking.

His damn crowning moment. His apex point. There’s no going further beyond that (until he finally defeats Midoriya and takes over Japan as the world’s most feared villain of all time).

“Shigaraki, I’mma let you finish, but AFO still holds the record for being the most infamous villain of all time! Of all time!” <-- let the boy dream okay, he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life

Can you tell that I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass? Because I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass

Chronic emo phase. Hears the G note and just sighs heavily

Has probably seen hentai. Doesn’t really get the appeal of high-pitched feminine screams. Probably more of a tiddy man than an ass man. Just... boobie

His first fictional crush was Aeris/Aerith. Legitimately lost his shit when she died.

Man Crush Monday is Sephiroth all the way. Especially his one-winged angel form. Wanted to cosplay him for Halloween but didn’t because the cosplay was too costly.

Will make “That’s what she said” jokes in the most deadpan voice. At least Mustard kinda snickers at them.

Probably would’ve been pretty patient with Eri. Her traumatic past certainly would’ve pitted her as a kindred spirit with him, and he would think her Quirk would be a powerful asset if used right. Probably would’ve practiced it by destroying something and then telling her to rewind it so that he can break it again.

Shigaraki, holding Eri by her armpits: “I’ve only had her for ten minutes but if anything happened to her I’d dust everyone in the room to make her feel better”

The rest of the League: “???????? Okay?????”

Legitimately holds a powerful grudge against parents who abuse or neglect their children, especially against abusive fathers. Almost as powerful as his hatred for All Might. Will actively go after someone he sees is abusive to their children and will not let them live.

Would probably adopt an orphan after killing their abusive parents. “Oh, that was your dad/mom/parent? Well guess you’re mine now. Let’s go get chicken nuggets, kid”

Might somehow rope Dabi into going abusive-parent-hunting with him during a raid. Takes great pleasure in seeing the guilty party’s horrified, pained look on their face as they slowly dissolve into a pile of ash.

#shigaraki headcanons

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bimswritings · 3 years

Text

This Is Our Way-Ch.2

Summary: What happens when you make the mistake of thinking you can steel from a Mandalorian? You land yourself and job and a plethora of adventures and emotion you could never even dream of. The question is; where will those emotions lead.

Warnings: Typical canon violence, NSFW implications and scenes later on

Ch.1

Read on Ao3

Normal Blog Request: Open

“What do you want.” The stranger's voice comes out muffled through the modulator of his helmet. It's deep and raspy, cutting through the air cleanly even though he speaks in little more than a mumble. The voice of a man who’s been hardened by the galaxy, ready to face anything in his way, and it sent shivers down your spine.

“You certainly don’t waste time now, do ya? Well, I can respect that , as I to, am a very busy man.” He smiles, lifting his hand to point directly at him.

“Your armor. Take it off.”

The air itself changes, shifting without anyone even moving. Even from your perch so far above you can feel it, becoming charged to the point it was almost suffocating, sending every nerve on edge.

You always knew Leon was a few brain cells shorter than average, but this? This was beyond stupid! Trying to take away a Mandalorian’s armor was as sure of a death sentence as stealing from the emperor himself.

“I’m going back to my ship. Move, or I’ll make you.”

You perked at his words. He wasn’t looking for you? It was really just by chance that he had wandered through here? If that were the case, then the universe really was against you. Not that you had any doubt about that in the first place.

Leon laughed. “Good one. But seriously. Hand it over.” The other three had been moving while he talked, slowly stalking towards the armor clad man until he was surrounded. If he noticed them he didn’t show any outwards signs of it, remaining still as he stared at the man in front of him.

A moment of silence. Then two.

“Alright then. Your funeral.” He nodded to the others.

All at once they were on him. It was a mess or limbs, arms and legs flying as each man fought for the advantage. It seemed that, by all means, the Mandalorian had it. Within seconds they were all relieved of their weapons, blades and blasters skittering across the alley as the fight continued.

It almost frightened you, the speed and efficiency with which he worked. Anything that happened to get past his defenses simply bounced off his armor.

‘I need to leave.’ You realized with a chill as he landed a particularly hard hit on Corin, a crack coming from his face as he fell to the ground, yet he still got back up, blood now streaming down his chin.

Slowly, you began to edge back. If you were lucky they would all kill each other and you’d have nothing to worry about. With Leon gone there would be no gangs after you, and apparently the Mandalorian had no interest in you. It was a win-win situation. For you at least.

Then, just as you were at the edge to freedom, a cry stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t the sound of grunts and squeals of pain from fighting. No. This was higher, more surprised than anything. The voice of a child.

Despite your better judgment, you turned back, unable to walk away if there was a chance there was some kid hiding in the shadows who got mixed up in this. That would have been more normal then what you actually saw.

The pod the Mandalorian had been traveling with earlier was now open. Inside of which rested not supplies like you had thought, but a small creature of some sort. Unlike anything you had ever seen, green skin and drooping ears poking out from a small head. Leon stood above it, the fighting taking a momentary pause with his discovery.

Producing his blade, he brought it closer to the small bundle as your heart jumped to your throat.

“No! Don’t hurt him!” The Mandalorian grunted, fighting forward against the grip his current opponents had on him.

Leon only pressed the blade closer, making it cry out more. “Not so fast there. Unless you want to find out what color its blood is, I suggest you cooperate.” The armored man froze, body tense as he raised his hands in surrender. Leon nodded to the others, who produced a pair of magnet cuffs. Kicking him down, they forced arms hands behind his back and restrained him into submission. All the while Leon watched with a sick sense of glee.

It surprised you. Mandalorians were supposed to be ruthless killers who fought simply for the joy of fighting. Yet here he was giving himself over for a child. One that didn’t appear to have any relations to him unless he was hiding quite the set of ears under that helmet.

Once he was sure the Mandalorian was restrained, Leon turned his attention back to the pod.

“I didn’t know you guys liked to keep pets. Thought you liked to do the whole ‘lone wolf’ thing.” He leaned in, examining the creature before picking it up to look closer. The Mandalorian jerked, earning a warning glance.

“Though I have to say, I’ve never seen a creature quite like this one before.” Smirking, he turned back, knife raised. “He’ll make a fine addition to my collection.”

You were never one to get involved, put yourself in danger for someone else's sake, but if there was one thing that threw your carefully honed self preservation skills out the window it was kids. They were innocent. Something to be protected and nurtured. They didn’t deserve any kind of pain, no matter who they were traveling with. Besides, you owed the man one. He had bought you dinner after all.

Hopefully this wasn’t going to hurt as much as you thought it would.

One step forward and gravity took effect, hurtling you towards the ground with more speed than anyone was comfortable with. It did the job though. Everett’s body crumpled beneath you, taking the brunt of the impact as your weight crashed down on top of him. It was still a rough landing, and the air was almost completely knocked from your lungs, making it that much harder to struggle to your feet. The cushion of a man however, did not make a single movement, let alone sound. While he wouldn’t remember what happened, the others sure would, their heads whipping around to face you, a mix of surprise and anger.

Leon was the first to speak up.

“What the fuck was that! You think you can just attack my guys!”

Pushing yourself up, you tried to ignore the throbbing pain as you mustered the best smile you could, sauntering your way over to where he stood. As you passed, you could feel the gaze of the others following you, keenly aware of one specifically as you wondered if he recognized you.

“I was just out, seeing if there were any tipsy troopers I might be able to snag.”

“Never a day of rest for you.” He tilted his chin. “So what warranted this ‘drop in’.”

“Oh, you know. Just saw you from above and thought I might say hello. Though I am surprised.” Finally approaching him, you added a little extra sway to your hips, feeling utterly ridiculous as you did so. Balancing on a crate, you rest your chin on your palm and leaned in just a bit too much. “I never thought you would nab yourself a Mandalorian. I must say, I’m impressed. Maybe I misjudged you.”

It made you almost sick, speaking in such a lustfully sweet tone, but it worked wonders on Leon. His chest expanded like a puffer pig, cocky as he proceeded to brag. The entire time you had to resist rolling your eyes.

He went on talking about nothing but how strong and influential he was, all the things that came with leadership and so on, until you cut him off. Eyes moving towards the creature in his hands. Your true target.

“It would be a real shame to kill that thing. Girls love moving in with guys who have pets.” Batting your eyes, you added a bit of extra charm and stuck your lower lip out in a pout. You had seen some of the escorts in the cantina doing it, and hopefully you were doing it right or you would look like a real idiot.

“Mind if I look at it. It’s pretty cute.”

His eyes widened a fraction at your words, before narrowing back down into little more than slits as a hungry look took over his face. Wordlessly he tossed it over to you, eliciting yet another cry from the bundle while you fumbled to catch it. Seeing it closer now, it was even funnier to look at. Wide eyes stared back, big and watering. It was cute, in an almost ugly way.

‘Asshole.’ You seethed, watching Leon move around you, now fully focused on the man being beaten to the ground by the others. Trying not to winch with each hit, you hoped his armor was as strong as rumored.

“I knew you’d come to your senses soon enough. Just playing a bit hard to get. I can respect the chase though.” He spoke, unaware as you slowly lowered the child back into the pod it had previously resided in. The small creature made a sound of confusion, cocking its head to the side as you fiddled with the buttons on the side, finally finding the right one to close it. One less thing you would have to worry about.

Making sure it was closed, you began moving once again, balancing on the balls of your feet as you approached.

“But now you’ve finally picked the right team.” Leon leveled his blade at the now laying Mandalorians neck, pushing just enough to force his head back.

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m not much of a team player.”

Your leg comes up in a swift kick, nailing him between the legs and dropping him to the ground as his mouth opened in a soundless scream. Your other leg rose in quick succession, catching him in the side of the head and knocking him to the ground.

Panting, you turned back towards the remaining two just in time to dodge a jab from Sho. Jumping back you were forced onto the offensive as he followed, swinging his blade in wide arcs. Further and further you were driven, and you could feel yourself quickly losing stamina as your breathing came in short gasp. You were a pickpocket after all. Not being seen was the basis of your skills, and while you knew how to fight it was never your strong suit. Brute force was out of your range.

Regardless, you fought on. Step after step, swing after swing, you evaded. If Sho hadn’t been so young and unseasoned he would have had you already. Unfortunately, he had help. A familiar cry reached your ears, piercing through the adrenaline and drawing your attention.

The child.

Looking past Sho, you could see Corin trying to break into the pod. Its doors were already open slightly, and the metal rod he had wedged between the plates only continued to widen the space.

‘Shit.’

Taking a deep breath, on the next arc of his swipe you pushed forward. Managing to grab a stray pipe as you passed, you grabbed Sho’s arm by the wrist, twisting the knife from it and shoving away. Pivoting around as soon as you were past, you brought the improvised weapon in a wide arc to make contact with a painfully sounding thud.

Not pausing in your momentum you turn to Corin, still occupied with the pod, leaving his back wide open. Two small leaps and you’re there, giving him the same treatment you had Sho, his body falling in a heap.

Panting, you peeked inside to find the creature unharmed, if not a bit scared. Though to be honest you yourself were shaken, the pipe falling from your hands with a clatter. As soon as you got the Mandalorian from his binds you could consider yourself even and leave. You would never have to worry about this again, apart from being extra careful around Leon from now on. He wasn't the type to take too kindly when his pride was hurt.

“Don’t worry bud. Stay there. I’ll go check on-”

A hit from the left, catching you in the temple and blindsiding you. Clenching at the injury, a boot found itself onto your back, forcing you to the ground before toeing you over.

“You. Little. Bitch!” Leon seethed from above. Spinning his blade around, he buried it into your leg, ignoring your cry of pain as you struggled. He repeated the process, striking the flesh again and again until it was little more than a bloody mess. All the while you prayed to the Maker he didn't an artery.

If Leon didn’t kill you now, surely you would die soon. A wound like this on the streets was a death sentence, especially without any medical equipment. If infection didn’t get you then lack of work would.

“Thought you could get the drop on me? Now, instead of sleeping with me, you can sleep in the ground.” His bloodied boot met your torso, earning a small crack and wheeze for his efforts. Trying to crawl away was no use, his other foot pining your wrist to the ground as he leaned over your body. Hand moving lower, your confusion turns to anguish as fingers jab into your body, entering from a wound you must have received in your skirmish with Sho. The adrenaline had kept you from feeling it before, but now? Now you wished you had remained unaware.

“You know,” Leon grunted, his fingers twisting inside and making you gasp as you felt something pull. “I knew I’d be in your guts one day, but I figured it would be a little more enjoyable for both of us.”

You hardly hear him, pain consuming every crevice of your body and invading your mind. It's like everything was burning with an invisible flame and nothing could put it out. Now matter how hard you struggled, how much you cried out for the maker to just end it, to let you die, it continued. It felt as if it was coming from everywhere, replacing the blood in your veins if only to spread more.

Only once in your life had you experienced anything even close to this, and you had barely walked away with your life then. But now…

You were drained. The last of your fight leaving with the blood as you grew colder, movements stilling. It's like you were surrounded in a cloud of cotton, everything muffled and blurry as your senses faded in and out.

Leon must think you dead, as his weight is removed, allowing your struggling lungs to greedily gulp in air. It did nothing to help, only making the burning in your chest worse.

Through hazed vision, you observe the world as it moved in slow motion. Shadows shift and flicker along the edges of your vision, before detaching to loom over you. There’s words being spoken, sounding all the same as they’re repeated again and again. It’s only when a hand ghost your wounds do you react.

A small whimper leaves your lips, begging whoever it is to leave you alone and let you die in peace. To die alone in the middle of an alley, stabbed and left to rot. As is the fate of so many who live here.

Then, in the middle of your suffering, comes warmth.

It starts small, a pebble of comfort really, growing more every second. You briefly wonder if this is what death feels like. If so, then maybe it's not so bad. It reminds you of the warm drinks your mother would bring home after work, warming you from the inside out like liquid sunshine.

It dulled your senses bringing a blissful wave of numbness as hands continued to move across your body.

Then, nothing. ________________

It seemed as if you were bathed in darkness for eternity, endlessly floundering in its inky depth. Like someone's holding your head underwater, keeping you under the surface with ease as you claw back to the surface of consciousness, inch by inch until you can slowly start to feel your body once again.

You're confused and bleary as you wake, body feeling like lead as your greeted with the humming of engines and creaking of metal. As far as you could remember, you hadn’t fallen asleep near the landing base, and ships never landed this close to your crate.

Thinking hurt too much now to worry though, head pounding in protest. It’ll be a problem for you in the future you decide. Right now, you just wanted to sleep off the massive headache. Turning over, a jolt of pain rewards your efforts and your eyes shoot open.

The sight of metal greeted you, though not the type you were used to. This was less rusted, better welded than anything in the area you lived. The blanket currently clutched in your hands was softer than anything you owned as well, and you never had an actual pillow before.

Another shock of pain coursed through you, prompting you to lift your coverings. The sight of stark white bandages greeted you, peeking up from the holes in your shirt and around your bare leg. There was no fabric left on the injured appendage, looking to have been ripped off if the jagged edges were anything to go by. The sight was heartbreaking, being the only pair of pants you owned, now left in less than good condition.

The sight of the bandages does stir something in the back of your mind, fighting the fog in your mind and settling right on the tip of your tongue. Its hazy, a patchwork of events and words. If you could just-

Another jolt shoots through you, bringing back memories alongside the pain. The walk home, seeing the Mandalorian with Leon, trying to help and getting fucked in return. It all comes back in sharp flashes.

That’s right. You were injured. You should have died. Yet here you are, alive.

The question is; where is ‘here’?

You’re resting in a small enclosed space, the only exit being at your feet, which protrude almost comically from the edge. There’s a large number of blankets and a few stuffed animals lying around, working to soften the metal crypt.

There’s no sounds apart from what you heard earlier, though if you listen closely enough you can hear the occasional beeping of machinery and internal components. The silence is of little comfort only making you on edge. If there’s no sound, then someone is purposely trying not to be heard.

Getting out of the small space is more of a challenge than you would think. The wounds make it nearly impossible to move and you have to bite your tongue to keep from crying out as you shift, slowly pulling yourself to the edge and allowing your legs to hang over the side. You nearly collapse when you jump down the remaining three inches to the floor, forcing you to lean on the cold steel of the wall. Air comes in short gasps with your hand clenched over your mouth to muffle any sound. When the pain fades enough to move again you make your way further through the ship, inspecting everything with wide eyes as you go.

You’re definitely on a ship. If the rumbling of the engine earlier hadn’t been enough, the floor under your feet sways and dips every so often, forcing you to use the wall to keep from falling. There’s tools and other miscellaneous items scattered about. Crates with varying degrees of fullness and contents are pushed into corners away from an incredible large amount of storage spaces, and the air reeks of blaster residue, rust, and fuel. There’s something that looks suspiciously like a carbonite chamber on the far wall, making your nerves increase ten fold.

It all had an organized chaos to it, making it near impossible for anyone but the ship's owner to navigate the clusters of items.

As you inspect a panel on the wall more closely, hoping you might gather some information, a small clatter makes you jump. Spinning around, you come face to face with the little monster that got you into this situation.

The green creature coos, speaking a jumble of sounds like he expects you to understand. It steps forward, waddling over in small steps to your frozen form until he’s at your feet. He doesn’t even come up to your knee, though that doesn't make him any less hesitant to latch onto your leg, tugging at the fabric with a surprisingly strong grip.

For once you’re unsure what to do. While you liked children, your experience was limited to those on the streets, giving the occasional tip to avoid them from causing any trouble and attracting attention from the enforcers. They seemed to like you though, and sometimes you swore it was like you had a retractor beam calibrated specifically for them. You tried your best to get them in with one of the better groups around, but that was all you could do for them. You were far from the best example, and there was no way you could look after them yourself.

But wait, he had been traveling with the Mandalorian. So if he was on this ship with you now then that meant…

A thud, louder than all the others. It comes from above. Your eyes drift to the ladder, leading up to the only place on the ship you haven't searched yet.

The cockpit.

You push the kid aside gently before moving closer, ears straining for any more noises. At the bottom you struggle to lift your arm to the bottom rung. Any movement sends a fresh wave of pain from your side, and when you lift your leg to push yourself up it only worsens. You're forced to use the uninjured leg, going up with only one of each limb. It’s slow and painful, only made that much more difficult by the fact you had to remain silent.

It was a slow go, but eventually you made it to the top, head poking above the lip of the entrance to reveal a spacious cockpit. There were three seats arranged in an arrow, but only one was currently occupied with the man you were looking for. His shoulders jutting out from the sides, too wide for the seat to act as a proper back. Light from the passing stars bounced off his helmet almost blindingly in flashes. The rifle strapped to his back was gone, but that didn’t mean he was unarmed. There could be any number of blades and blasters hidden on his person. Though even without weapons he was dangerous.

Imminent death wasn’t what concerned you. After all, you assumed he was the ones who had patched you up and brought you aboard.

As you made your way closer to his turned back, your eyes roamed the area. Being around ships as much as you had, even if they were mainly imperial, there were a couple things you noticed.

Judging from the setup, it must be pre-empire, though it clearly had some modifications added to keep it on par with other ships. Reinforced walls in the upper parts, clearly welded by someone other than a professional, with a narrowed viewing port to give blaster less of a chance to blow out the glass. A sliding door with airlock components lies at the entrance. Not something you would find on a normal transport ship like this, which the large hull told you it was. Squares weren't the most dynamic shape for space travel after all.

Through the narrowed view you can see you’re in hyperspace and it takes you aback for a moment. You had never been beyond the atmosphere of Corellia, even when in the hold of transports. Countless nights you had spent gazing at the sky, trying to see past the clouds to the stars beyond, wishing you could be up there with them, exploring the galaxy and away from this hell hole. Now, it was like your dreams had come true in their own twisted way.

So distracted by the sight, you missed the stray plasma cutter lying on the ground. Your heel caught the edge, making you stumble as it skidded across the floor, the noise early defining after the previous silence. You paused, only a few feet from the Mandalorian now. There was a beat of silence, and you wondered if you had caught him sleeping. Somehow that was almost as terrifying as finding him awake. The fact that he found you so little of a threat that he could sleep without fear of you trying something.

Then, without turning, he spoke, voice sending every fiber of your being on high alert.

“I thought you would have slept longer.”

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