We've officially reached over 300 followers so i decided to do an ask game to celebrate! 300 questions would be a little much so we'll go with 30. Everyone is free to reblog!
You can answer this with any kind of selfship (romantic, familial, platonic, queer platonic, etc.), but if you're asked a question you're not comfortable with, please skip it!
💚 Get to know us 💚
🌱 Who is/are your F/O(s)? How many do you have? If there's more than one, how do your relationships with them intersect, if they do at all?
☘️ Do you selfship with them as your real life self, or do you use an OC or S/I for your selfship? If you have an OC or S/I, is there any lore you want to share about them?
🪴 When and how did you know that you wanted to selfship with your F/O(s)? Was it instant, or did it take a while for your feelings for them to grow? Has your relationship with them changed over time?
🌳 What is your story with your F/O(s)? How, when, and where did you meet? Do you have a future planned with them, or are you just living life with them by your side?
🥀 If you have an ending planned for your selfship, how does it end? Do you live your lives out with each other, or does something happen?
💚 Life together 💚
🏡 What is your day to day together? Do you live together, do you see each other at work/school/planned outings?
🐛 When you spend time together, do you prefer to go out or stay home? A mix of both? If you prefer to go out, where do you like to go? If you stay in, what do you like to do together?
🧩 What are your favorite things to do together? Do your hobbies overlap, or do you find new hobbies that you both enjoy?
🚎 Do you travel together? If you have travelled together before, where have you gone? Where are you planning to go in the future?
💵 If you live together, who supports the household? If you don't, who pays when you go out? Is it an even split, or does one of your pay more often?
💚 Our favorites 💚
🍏 Favorite foods? Your least favorite? Do you have any conflicting tastes in food?
🟢 Favorite colors? Are your favorite colors the same or compatible? Or do they clash? If you live together, does this affect how you decorate?
🐸 Favorite animals? Do you have either of your favorite animals as pets?
🥎 Favorite sports? Do either of you play any sports, and is that your favorite? Or do you prefer to do or watch other things?
🦖 Favorite dinosaurs? Do either of you have particularly strong feelings on any one dinosaur?
💚 Who's more likely? 💚
🦠 Who's more likely to get sick? How do you act when each other is sick?
🔋 Who's more likely to run out of social battery first? What do you do when one of you suddenly needs to leave an event, or just needs to take a break?
🍀 Who's more likely to find a four leaf clover? Is it because either of you is more lucky, or more observant?
💐 Who's more likely to buy flowers for the other? Do either of you have strong feelings about flowers as gifts?
📟 Who's more likely to stay up late? More likely to wake up early?
💚 Source material 💚
📗 What kind of material is your F/O(s)'s source? A book, movie, game? Something else, or something more unconventional?
🏞️ Where is your F/O(s) from? Do they come from a fictionalized country? Another planet or universe?
❇️ What is their role in their source? Main character, side character, protagonist, antagonist?
🌾 How do they feel about their life in their source? Are they happy, or do they struggle in life?
🪲 What's your favorite way to interact with your F/O(s)'s source? Have you completed their source?
💚 Our feelings for each other 💚
🟩 What kind of relationship do you have? Romantic, platonic, familial, something else?
✅ What are your favorite things about each other?
❎ What are your least favorite things about each other? Are they a big deal, or just pet peeves?
🤦♂️ How do you get on each other's nerves? Do you ever try to push each other's buttons, or do you try to keep things sailing smoothly?
♻️ Are you good at communicating with each other? Or are you more closed off? Is communication important within your relationship?
alright you know what? im bored, im depressed, and most importantly, im losing it bored. so while ik i usually do moodboards for commissions, im gonna say fuck it and throw this into the wild. valentine's day is around the corner after all lol
selfship community! send me your selfship (oc x canon or s/i x canon) and ill make a moodboard solely based off of vibes i get from your ship! you can request/reblog a maximum of 3 selfship moodboards. all 3 can be of the same selfship, or each one can be of a different selfship. here's some examples here (moodboard comms originally made for @/shot-by-cupid)
any art of your selfship (that either you or another artist has made) is preferred, but if you don't have any art of you and your f/o(s) together, then a picrew or any ref of your self-insert/oc works just fine (and ill just find a ref of your f/o or f/os)
please reblog this post with your requests (as in do not send your requests via asks or dms plz and thank u)! also ik this is me doing these for free and stuff, but please be patient 🙏 im not too busy with work these days, but sadly im still busy with struggling with my audhd and mental health, so i hope you understand!
also dni pro.ship/dark.ship/whatever else y'all call yourselves. any requests i get that are pro.ship will not only be denied, but the requester will also be blocked. go make your own moodboard lmao
Summary: The trope is “thinks they’re flirting” x “thinks they’re fighting.” So ragebaiting into your heart. So romantical
Is some sort of progress? Sure. But is it also getting worse? Definitely. Mal thought it couldn’t get worse than before but it actually does. She’s so done with Sonar’s ahh after this.
In fact! you might kill him in Part 3.
Warnings: Swearing and a lil Ooc? Ragebait defo
You had a terrible shift today. After all that pointless banter yesterday, you could not get sonar out of your head since then— and not in the “I have a crush on him” way. It was more like a… “I want to strangle him with a coat hanger.” kind of way.
And exactly what happened in that terrible first shift? You failed an important mission because you got distracted thinking about him.
It got to a point where your dispatcher had to forcibly send you away to take a break early. It was humiliating to say the least.
You stride into the break room, your body tense and annoyance showed in your features. You really need a drink. Well, obviously you can’t have alcohol… yet. So, you settle for your usual drink of choice— coffee.
Hey. You haven’t thought of him for 2 whole minutes— Damn it, why do you keep doing this?
You snap out of your thoughts when you hear the door creak open, you turn your head to the direction of the doorway. Speak of the devil.
“I thought ‘bring your child to work day’ was yesterday, But you’re still here.” Even if you didn’t see him, you’d already know that the aggravating voice belongs to Sonar.
“Oh yeah? Well, pets aren’t allowed out of their cages here and yet you’re in-front of me.” You run a hand through your hair. This was your best attempt at acting totally unbothered.
You’d thought he’s gonna clap back. But, to your surprise. He moves past you…without a word. Hold on…something’s missing.
“Oh, how tragic. Your little girlfriend isn’t here to put you on a leash." You look around the room. No signs of portals or Mal in sight.
“What— no. Mal isn’t my ‘girl’. She is my best friend and not even a leash can stop me.”
“Yeah okay, whatever. I’m totally listening.” You sip on your drink as you try to hide the relief you felt from hearing that.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Huh. It’s so peaceful right now. It might be because he’s not running his mouth.
“What’s the special occasion? You’re not being as annoying as yesterday.” You immediately regret asking but you don’t take your question back. You were a little curious after all.
“After yesterday I’ve figured I’ll be more friendly since we’re close and all—“
“HA! First of all. We are not friends and we never will be.” You quickly correct him but his smirk doesn’t falter.
“I never said we were friends, because we’re obviously something way more.” You almost choke on your drink from his comment. What is that supposed to mean!?
“Are you high right now? Because, whatever you’re on. I want some after this conversation.”
“Oh sure, I’m actually…” When you see him digging through his blazer you immediately cut him off.
“I was uh… joking? I didn’t think you were actually high. But I guess you’re just stupid.”
“Me? Stupid? I'm a goddamn Harvard graduate. H.A.V.A.R.D. AND top of my class too.” Did he think you can’t spell that? You totally can. Harvrad!
“Do you have any other reply other than ‘I’m a Harvard student?’”
“I don’t need to when it’s literally the best comeback.” The confidence in his voice makes you let out an exasperated scoff.
“I hate to break it to you. But, it’s not even a comeback.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Yuh huh. It is.” He’s actually saying ‘yuh huh.’ ?
“Nuh uh!”
“Yuh huh!
“Nuh— No. I’m done talking to you. You’re so goddamn childish.” To be honest, you’re no better per se but you’d like to think you're a little bit better than him.
“Fine, but I know you’re not done thinking about me.” He sings the last part. You immediately felt this uncomfortable feeling forming in your chest. Is the room getting hotter? You also felt heat rising to your face.
“Thinking about how annoying you are…” You mumble underneath your breath as you break away from his gaze. You thought he wouldn’t be able to hear you… But in the corner of your eye, you see his ears twitch. Curse those big ass ears.
“So what you are saying is… You’re always thinking about me? Just confess already at this point.” Stepping closer to you with that smirk you wanna wipe off so bad.
“Confess!? You’re the one who's obsessed with me and pissing the hell off for just a speck of my attention!” You meet his gaze again to jab a finger into his chest.
“Well, you’re the one who’s always avoiding me. What? Are you nervous around me or something?” He leans in— far too close for comfort.
“That’s it. you, me, after work. We’re gonna take this outside.” You pull away. You wonder if he’ll have a smartass thing to say. But he doesn’t, you feel a little satisfied from seeing him all speechless.
“Don’t you even dare think about getting away.” Just then you thought that’ll be the end…
“Why would I—“
“Just let me have the last word!” You push him out of your way and head straight for the door. You can’t be around him anymore… for reasons you don’t even wanna find out.
When you finally reach the doorway, you’re halfway slamming the break room door but you remember BB’s warning from a long time ago… so you don’t. But damn, you really wanted to hit something.
⊹₊⟡⋆
He watches you storm off, even if you’re gone he still eyes the door where you just left from. Wow, there was so much romantic tension in that conversation he just had with you. (Wishful thinking.)
“It’s a date!” He quickly calls after you. But you were too far to hear it.
He grins to himself as he fishes his phone out of his pocket, immediately typing out the good news to his bestie.
Basically thinks they’re flirting x thinks they’re fighting… er trope. It’s a lil OOC? I think. I also love me sum backstory so ye. If there’s grammar mistakes I will try to fix it 🥀
oh ye warnings: there is explicit language down ere!!!!!
After the success of the Z-team, since they defeated Shroud and all. SDN has launched a new project. Well… same project but new people. They were called the Team-alpha (Corny name, from a Corny lady). Basically, it was the same shit, ex-villains that are given a second chance.
And guess who’s in that corny-named team? You.
You weren’t sure what Blonde Blazer was expecting with this. Sure, more calls were being answered but the chaos that unfolded didn’t overcome the benefits.
To be honest? It was just competition for everyone which created this hostile environment… that Blazer was totally A-okay with— now you think about it, she probably didn’t even know.
You have thought about telling her since you were catching more strays from the Z-Team in the breakroom than villains on missions. But you’re no snitch and your team is no better.
You’d time yourself, making sure you would not collide with any of the Z-team members. After all… Everyone was such assholes— except for Waterboy and Phenomaman. But as someone who just finished a long ass shift of taking half-hour trips to get balloons out of trees… You don’t want to interact with anyone and that includes everyone from your team.
You check your phone. Right on time. You open the door and you already know no one’s gonna be in here so you enter confidently.
You peek through the small window as expected, and no one’s here. So you head inside, making sure to close the door behind you.
You’re humming a song, then you turn around. Just to see not one, but two of the members from the Z-team. It’s Malevola… and fuuucking Sonar.
How did you not hear— oh… that’s right, portal powers. Ugh.
Both of them— but mostly Sonar has been on your ass for days. You’re annoyed as you are impressed that he managed to piss you off without talking to you.
You let out a small sigh, trying to hide your annoyance but it was picked up by sonar, anyway. Those big ass ears.
“What? Got a problem?” He squints his eyes in question but you just shrug in response. You thought if you just ignored him—
“We’re the originals, bitch. You’re in our place.” Oh great, he’s continuing.
“Cool, so you want a gold medal or something?” You say, casually as you pour the ground coffee beans into your cup. All you need now is hot water. You place the back of your hand against the kettle, Goddamn it, it’s cold AND it’s empty. You quickly add new water inside and turn it on.
You would’ve just left long ago, but you really need coffee for the later shift.
“We ran, so you guys can walk. You should be thanking us.” Sonar smirks, folding his arms. Is he still talking?
“The only person I should and will be thanking is Blonde Blazer.” This time you glance at him, frowning slightly.
“Why are you telling me all this anyway?”
“Uh— duh. Because you assholes are acting like you own the place, even now you’re using my creamer.” He huffs as he crosses his arms.
“What the hell are you talking about? This is mine.” You finally look at him with a raised brow, shaking the small container of dairy in between your fingers.
“Don’t try to lie to a Harvard graduate. I can tell.” He’s not even looking at what's in your hand.
“I dunno about that, but those are definitely dairy creamers, definitely ain't yours mate.” Malevola finally speaks up. Now he’s finally looking at the creamer in your hands.
“Oh— uh. Well! What about that time when you guys stole our missions?” You’re about to go off, but you realised something.
“Oh is this what it’s about? Trying to rile me up so I can give you my attention?” You coo, flashing a condescending smile at him. The kettle finally finishes boiling, and you pour the water into your cup while you wait for him to respond.
“What? No—“
“Try not to get your dick caught on fire from how hard you’re jerking it to me tonight.” You walk out with the cup, flipping him off behind your back.
“I- you. No— ugh!” You closed the door before you could hear any more.
────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──
The break room fell into a silence when you left.
“See? I told you they liked me. Ah… they know me so well.” Sonar turns to his best friend, grinning like an idiot.
“Yeah…sure.” Malevola grimaces as she tries to resist the urge to facepalm.
What if Sonar and S/O had a baby and the baby just looked like a bat?
Malevola comes to visit and her godchild is just a tiny bat
full of suprises
a/n: i was trying to figure out whether or not i should’ve made this a fic or not but in the end i decided to just do headcanons…
info: gender-neutral reader (i just use ‘you’ besides the mentions of you being pregnant)!!
𖦹 sonar was living the LIFE ever since his child was born, and he also went straight to work on taking care of things for you whether that was the previous shared chores around the apartment you two shared and now helping taking care of the baby bat most of the time until you fully healed.
𖦹 and don’t worry about a thing, sonar is absolutely having a BLAST being a father.
𖦹 he’s taking many pictures and sending them to the rest of the z-team with messages that accompanied them that says stuff like, “be honored by the birth of the next harvard graduate!!”
𖦹 but one thing sonar is more gleeful about is that your guys baby is completely a bat, he won’t tell you this but it helps his ego just a tiny bit since there are times where the baby would cling onto him the most, especially in his beast form while making the most happiest chirps while they do so.
𖦹 it makes you slightly jealous but also happy how much of a connection they both have since they both have an instinct that you couldn’t understand.
𖦹 but don’t worry dear reader, your baby loves you and is as attached to you as equally as their father!!
𖦹 you often or not find your baby and their bat body quickly claw to your at the sound of your voice when you enter the room with a bunch of chirps to cling their little claws onto you as they also nuzzle your warm skin.
𖦹 with that it makes it a bit funny seeing sonar getting all fussy about it, but it goes away once you give him a kiss on his snout.
𖦹 also just a heads up, your little baby bat pup is very much clingy (just like their father) so look forward to having them to your hip almost 24/7, even at night.
𖦹 now it’s been about a month until malevola was able to come around to visit, since in her words, “your body needs to heal while being alone with sonar and the baby until anyone is allowed to come around.”
𖦹 but when she does, she’s excited out of her mind, she was made a godmother after all.
𖦹 she firstly checks on how you and your body is doing (since she absolutely cares for you and your wellbeing as much as she does for sonars) before asking where her godchild is.
𖦹 the second she lays her eyes on the baby, she lets out a massive awe immediately.
𖦹 yet it follows with a laugh when she realizes it’s quite literally a tiny little baby bat, maybe she should’ve believed sonar when he told her about it over text.
Yes. Yes you should write for dispatch and I have just the idea.
Plz. Plz write Sonar x Moth hybrid reader. I beg of you. It lives rent free in my head all day every day. The possibilities. The dynamic of natural predator x natural prey instincts battling each other as they have to work together in close proximity. Plz. Plz. It would be so cool I promise plzzzzzz
- 🦋🦇
a/n: i love this concept so much and i really hope i did it justice!! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
i started writing this to be a short fic, but turns out my writing style is super wordy and long.. so im gonna start you off with some platonic/romantic headcanons if that’s ok!! please let me know if you’d like to see this as a full fic, i could try to shorten it a bit..
Sonar x MothHybrid!reader
gn!reader, reader is mentioned to have wings, antennae, fluff around the neck/chest and wrists and mothlike behavior
CW: none
Platonic
Sonar has at least five different nicknames for you that he cycles through
Some are unintentionally cute, almost sounding like pet names like "pompoms", referring to the tufts of fluff around your wrists
But some are just to mock your existence as a moth hybrid, like "shirt muncher" (which we all know is a stereotype since not all moths actually eat clothes!)
Never nap in the break room if he’s around.. you WILL wake up with your antennae tied together
Unfortunately, you and Sonar often get paired up for late night missions, since you're both technically nocturnal creatures
Your squabbles over the team comms do usually make Robert regret his decisions about five seconds later
Speaking of being paired up, flying with the bat hybrid is an actual nightmare
Since your wings have a completely different structure from his, Sonar has made it his personal mission to try and make you fall out of the sky
On that note, while you'd hate to admit it, his full batform does intimidate you
Aside from the fact that he literally turns into an oversized monster bat, there's some sort of primal instinct that tells you to get away whenever he transforms
You better have a good poker face though, because if Sonar were to catch on to your subconscious fear, he would never shut up about it ever again
When he switches out your lunch for moth balls, you get him back by decorating his with bits of rat poison
Calling him a rat with wings usually gets a good rise out of him (insert the lion and ape ragebait pic)
Whenever Malevola (or any other Z-Team member) asks him why he seems to dislike you so much, he shrugs them off and says it's a "natural thing" or that "full human betas" simply wouldn't understand the unspoken rivalry between the two of you
If you ever fail a mission, Sonar is the first to jump on the comms to make fun of you for it
"How did you miss the target by that much? Want us to point a big lamp at it next time so you can find it better?"
Sonar jokes about eating you maybe a bit too often
It's gotten to a point where you'll take a step or two away from him if he mentions being hungry in your presence..
Being in a room with him for longer than five minutes also means he will go on a tangent on why he is fundamentally smarter than you "by nature" and eventually, all conversations you have with him circle back to his Harvard degree
Still, there's something about the way that you banter that he enjoys, with both of you trying to have the last laugh each time
Maybe it's the fact that you actually respond to his quips, no matter how idiotic they may seem to everyone else
Romantic
When Sonar first starts realizing that he might have romantic feelings for you, he tells himself he's just confusing it with hunger
You look like a moth, so of course you'd remind him of a nice midnight snack!
Things change a bit when you start appearing in his dreams
The first one has him waking up confused, but surely it's just a one time thing..
Spoiler alert: it's not
The second dream leaves him wondering what it would feel like to rest his head on your fluff
By the third, he's watching you pour your coffee during your break from afar
You're not oblivious to it either, his change in behaviour is actually quite hard to miss
He stops bringing in bugs for lunch despite not caring the first fifty times you complained, having suddenly found better alternatives
If you get a new haircut, Sonar is the first to notice, but won't comment on it unless someone else brings it up
"Oh, that's new? I didn't even notice."
He's not exactly a good liar, everyone's already caught him peeking around corners to catch another glimpse of you
Should Sonar and you ever actually get to talking about these feelings, it'll probably take another while for you to actually get together
Not only because he has to accept what he's feeling instead of denying or explaining it away, but also because you have reservations when it comes to Sonar
The two of you definitely have a lot of talking to do before a relationship could be considered
Can I have a wholesome oneshot with Sonar/Civilian reader after the events of episode 8? (The route where Sonar joined the red ring instead)
Like the reader feels so betrayed hearing that he joined Red Ring, so now that he's back on the Z-team after defeating Shroud, maybe he's considering getting in touch with the reader again, apologizing after everything,
Then the reader decided to give it a 2nd chance
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟSONAR written by yaskore
warnings. ANGST!, lil argument, happy ending :p, language obv it's dispatch
a/n. I got carried away and made it angsty more than anything im sorry omgsh. and pls bare w me this is my first sonar fic and I haven’t wrote in monthsss
Scrolling through the newest article, his name lands in your chest the way it always does now—sharp, impossible to ignore. Except… this headline hits differently. It knocks the breath out of you, twists your stomach the same way it did that day. The day you found out.
"SONAR DEFECTS — RED RING CLAIMS NEW MEMBER."
The words still echo in your skull like a migraine you can’t shake. And after that day… you never heard from him again.
But now there’s a new article. Still his name. Same impossible weight. But a different world.
"SONAR RETURNS — Z TEAM WELCOMES BACK FORMER MEMBER AFTER RED RING DEFEAT."
Your thumb hovers over the screen, trembling. You knew about the fall of Shroud, of course—you kept up with every rumor, every shaky broadcast, every fragment of news, scanning the background of every clip, hoping, wishing he was alive. Hoping he was safe. Even knowing others weren’t, because of him. Because he chose that life. Because he chose this. Over you.
And yet, the second your eyes lock on the headline, the second you realize he’s okay—not locked away, not dead—something inside you splinters and shifts. Relief hits so hard it almost hurts. And immediately behind it comes the anger.
Anger at how fast people forgave him. How easily they said “welcome back” like nothing ever happened. Anger at the ones who spat venom, who treated him like he wasn’t human. Well, half-human. But still.
None of them were there, watching, waiting, worrying every night, replaying footage, trying to make sense of it all.
You’re still angry. Still hurt. Still carrying the version of him who left. But beneath it all, something fragile stirs. Hope. Tiny, stupid hope. The kind that whispers: Maybe this time he means it. Maybe this time he’s staying.
And you hate that you can’t stop listening.
Your phone vibrates. Familiar. Almost stinging. Every time you thought of him before, he’d text. But… you remind yourself that hasn’t been true since he left.
So then, you look.
And you stop breathing. Stop thinking.
His name—not the one in the articles—lights up your screen.
Victor.
The message is short. Simple. Something that would’ve been meaningless on a normal night.
"Can we talk?"
You just stare, dont even breathe.
At some point, the notification fades. It slides back into the phone, and it hurts more watching it disappear than it did when it arrived.
Your hands shake. You swipe down and tap it, just to be sure it’s real. Above it, your last unanswered, frantic messages stare back at you.
A hot wash of anger hits, then shame, then embarrassment, relief—all at once. You don’t even notice how long you’ve been staring until another bubble appears. Typing. Gone. Typing. Gone. A beat passes.
Finally, a half-buzz.
"Please,"
The comma hangs. It feels like he almost typed your nickname—the one he gave you the night you met, the one no one else ever used. The thought of him calling you that now freezes you in place.
You don’t even realize when you end up in the kitchen. Motion has always felt safer than feeling you guess.
You crack eggs too hard, spill sugar across the counter, forget to set a timer. Stress baking used to calm you down. Tonight, it just keeps your hands busy while your heart aches and your thoughts spiral.
You mutter under your breath as you stir, not talking to anyone really, hardly even yourself.
“He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to just—just text me and act like—”
You scoff, leaving the sentence unfinished. You don’t need to end it. Every unfinished thought ends the same;
I missed him.
The oven ticks. Cinnamon fills the air. And you’re still angry. You bury your face in your flour-covered hands, trying to breathe.
But you don’t get the chance to calm down before the glass door rattles. Your heart skips because of it's familiarity. Too familiar.
You freeze. No one should be up here, you're on the sixth floor. It's impossible. Not for him.
You already know.
Outside, on the balcony, wings half-extended, claws curling around the railing, is Sonar. In the version he always used to see you faster.
His eyes find yours through the glass, and it feels weird to look in them. They're not glowing with rage, not hungry with power. Not twisted like the Red Ring broadcasts. They're soft...painful. Almost unfamiliar. But only for a moment. Because you’ve never seen this much hurt in his eyes at once, it almost breaks you.
Time stretches. A long, fragile moment—neither of you moving, both breathing like it hurts, and you swear it does.
Until he shifts. His wings shrink, body folds into itself. The dark shape collapses into a familiar silhouette. Half-man again.
Victor again.
He lands on the balcony with a tired kind of grace, straightening slowly, smoothing his shirt, adjusting his tie. His hands tremble slightly, though he tries not to show it. His expression is worn, shadows under his eyes. Sadness you don’t recognize. Vulnerability you didn’t expect. Yet… he also looks like himself.
It hurts.
He swallows once, voice low and muffled through the glass.
“Hi.”
It sounds, feels unnatural and practiced. He knows it.
When you finally exhale, let your eyes blink long and slow, you meet his gaze again with a sharper glare. He nearly flinches—a subtle twitch of his ear. And for a moment, you almost give in.
With a sigh, you move toward the sliding glass door. You stop just short of the coffee table, studying him carefully, scanning for wounds, but more so drinking in the figure you never thought you’d see here again. Your eyes sting at the thought, never seeing him again, imagining him broken beyond repair. Your chest tightens, the ache curling into your throat, and he notices.
He steps forward instinctively, hands twitching because he can’t quite touch you, and not because of the glass between you.
He says your name, low, and even though you’re closer, it’s like the glass thickened between you. You barely hear it, but you watch it form on his mouth.
His fingertips ghost against the glass, hesitant. You can feel the tension coiling in your chest. You can’t just stand here. You know he won’t leave without at least one word. So you move toward the patio, unlock it, and slide the door open.
Up close, the air carries him. Fresh night air tangled with that familiar cologne—your apartment would hold onto it for days after he left. But all you do now is glare, even when he looks at you with those eyes you always folded for. Eyes with a new scar trailing under one.
Because fuck, you’re furious. Distraught.
Because he came back the old way, the familiar way. Like he still had the right to.
Because some stupid, selfish part of you is relieved beyond words that he’s standing here at all. Alive. Breathing. Looking at you like you’re someone he still remembers how to miss.
Your voice is quiet—breaking—but it cuts.
“You don’t get to show up here.” You say it like it hurts.
He blinks, a small shake of his head. He knows you’re right. He just doesn’t want it to be.
His mouth tries to find words—opens, shuts, opens again—he hasn’t heard your voice in months. You get there first.
“You joined a group that kills people like me,” you say quietly, hard to keep your voice steady. It comes out slow, because you’re still trying to understand, to make sense of what seems like the impossible.
He reacts fast. “I would never have let that happen.”
He steps forward too quickly, eyes wide. You instinctively step back, and he freezes mid step, hand almost reaching for you before retreating. A micro flinch, guilt flickering across his features.
“You couldn’t have stopped it,” you argue, a thin laugh tearing out at the absurdity. “I could’ve crossed the wrong street, gotten in one of their ways, and been dead—just like that.” Your voice rises under the heat that boils in your chest. You feel it pile up your throat and suddenly you’re nauseous.
“That would never—”
“What the fuck makes you think you could’ve prevented that?” you laugh bitterly, disbelief sharp as glass.
“I would’ve figured it out,” he says, and the nickname he gave you slips out like muscle memory. It stings. “I would’ve kept you saf—”
“Your DUMBASS couldn’t have controlled SHIT in the Red Ring—” you snap, scoffing. The sound of your nickname, his nickname, makes something in you crack.
“Fuck—yeah, I got that now,” he mutters, voice cracking slightly.
“Oh, do you?” you shoot back. Sharp. He flinches again, doesn’t even argue, and it hits you harder than the words.
Silence falls. Cold from the open door bites at your skin. You look away, lip quivering before you can stop it.
Hearing his voice again—low, flat, beautiful, that dry monotone only you ever learned to read—hits you in a way you’re not prepared for. Most people could never read him, thought everything he said sounded the same, so they assumed he always felt the same, or nothing at all.
But you always caught the tiny shifts, the barely-there changes no one else noticed. And now you hear them again, slipping out before he can stop them.
It punches right into your chest—warm and awful and confusing all at once.
You force yourself to focus on the anger instead… because if you don’t, you’re going to fall apart right in front of him.
You swing a hand at his shoulder, pushing him lightly.
“Fucking prick.”
Jagged words—half anger, half relief, half everything unnamed. You don’t meet his eyes.
Until you do.
And then you see him; brows drawn, eyes soft, guilty, bracing for your collapse. He steps forward—instinct. You step back—reflex.
“You left me,” you murmur, trembling.
He exhales, defeated. “I was being a selfish dick.”
“Pft—yeah—”
He cuts in, desperate. “I wasn’t thinking. I—I wish I had some noble reason, but I don’t. I was angry. Blinded by it.”
He looks away, swallowing shame. Then a beat—one line that sinks everything.
“I thought I wasn’t worth being loved by someone like you… so I made sure no one could love me.”
Your chest constricts. The apology finally lands. Nothing else matters in this moment but that one truth.
“I know I fucked up,” he whispers, trembling in a way you’ve never heard. “I went back to what I knew. I told myself it was better than dragging you down with me. But it was just… me being selfish.”
“…Scared.”
His eyes lift to yours. Raw. Pleading. You can’t lie now.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
You stare. And then the ache rises—the one you’ve been suffocating since he left. It hurts. But it’s also relief. And grief. And something you can’t name.
You don’t fight it this time.
You step forward. A pause. Your hand hovers, half reaching, half uncertain. His breath catches. A beat passes, and then—into him. Into his arms. This is still where you go.
Your voice is barely there.
“I thought I’d never see you again.”
His breath catches once, then he’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he loosens even slightly.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispers into your hair. “Me too.”
One sniffle is enough for him to thread a hand through your hair—gentle, trembling. He holds you like he’s terrified of breaking this moment… or losing you again.
You slide your arms up his back, relearning his weight. Your palms trace upward, memorizing his warmth, his breath. Nights spent staring at ceilings, wishing to see him on the Red Ring News broadcast just to know he was alive—every memory collides with now.
Your chest tightens, a soft sob escaping. He feels it and lowers his chin onto your head, a kiss landing in your hair. His hands rub your back, coaxing calm into your shaking body.
He doesn’t let go. Not now. Not after letting go before, thinking it kept you safe from the Red Ring, from him, from the darkness he thought he had to embrace. Never again.
He swallows hard, grounding himself, hiding the silent tear you don’t see.
You back up slightly, hands sliding down his arms to his elbows. You tilt your head, meeting eyes full of guilt, hope, and softness reserved only for you.
Trust won’t snap back instantly. But relief is fierce. And right now, it’s enough.
“Don’t leave me again,” you whisper, raw. Inch by inch, letting the healing begin.
His lips twitch faintly. “I won’t be selfish ever again,” he says, monotone sincerity in every word.
You let out a shaky laugh. “I didn't ask that much from you.”
He chuckles quietly—half relieved, half giddy. “Thank god.”
You snort. He mumbles, adding on “—cause I dunno if I could’ve done all that—”
But your hand finds his, warm and grounding. You squeeze gently, leading him inside.
He shuts the patio door behind him carefully, almost hesitant, like measuring if it’s okay to be here. The apartment smells like cinnamon from your stress baking, and a faint trace of your perfume. He inhales sharply, anchoring himself to you.
You don’t speak. Just watch him. Alive. Scarred. Real.
Then the moment holds. It's warm and quiet, you want to bathe in it.
And then the kitchen chaos hits.
“Oh my god—” you gasp, rushing toward the counter. “I— I didn’t even— this place is a MESS, I’m so sorry—”
Flour everywhere. Cinnamon on the floor. Dishes piled. You panic-clean, rambling, laughing too fast, filling the silence.
He doesn’t hear any of it.
He watches you, memorizing this—the domestic chaos, your hair out of place, the way you move. Like he never thought he’d see this again. Like blinking could erase it.
A hand gently stops your reach for cinnamon. You freeze.
You look up. His eyes are soft, unguarded.
He says your name. The one only he uses.
“Thank you.”
The fragility in his monotone, the slight crack in his voice—it chokes you up.
“For being the only person who cared whether I was dead or alive.” His thumb brushes your wrist. Warm and careful.
“-Even when I went completely batshit.” He tries to grin, tries to joke, but you hear the truth beneath it.
Your smile trembles, and you feel your chest ache.
“How could I not?”
You lift a hand and stroke the fur along his cheek. Slow and familiar, with him leaning into it briefly like he used to.
“Never thought I’d feel that again,” he murmurs, smiling into your touch.
You snort and flick his face before he gets too comfortable. “Yeah, well—don’t get used to it.”
His face drops. “Wow. Quick turn.”
You cross your arms. “I contain multitudes.”
He shakes his head with a scoff, that same old grin on his face, wandering to the pantry like muscle memory. You realize exactly what he’s about to find.
“Oh, shit!” he blurts triumphantly.
“You got twinks!”
You go red, rushing to snatch them. “No! You don’t get to have these, mister!”
He stares, slow, knowing. He doesn't even try to snatch them back, his eyes are intently on yours.
“…Why do you have twinks?”
You freeze. His eyes narrow. Smug, almost predatory.
“Wait.”
A smile spreads.
“You—”
“I eat them,” you blurt, too fast. “Since you left—”
Silence.
His grin spreads, wide, unstoppable. “Oh-hoo— that is fucking adorable—”
He scoops you up, spins you. Flour is everywhere. You just squeal.
“PUT ME—DOWN—!”
He laughs, tightening his hold. His face buries in your neck, his breath warm and teasing.
“Secretly hoped I’d break in at night and raid your pantry like the villain I was?”
“No!” you giggle, squirming. “Shut up—!”
His nose brushes yours. “So you missed me, huh?”
You hit his shoulders weakly, laughing too hard.
“Are you in love with me?” he asks, voice teasing. His arms tighten, accidentally tickling you.
You try to hold composure. “No—!” You protest, a little too quickly.
But your body betrays you. Legs kick. Hands clutch his suit. You’re holding on for dear life.
Because even if you say you want him to let go, you’re not sure you could stand it
Hi! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a hurt/comfort oneshot with Sonar (with Female!Reader) where Sonar is brainwashed by a villain while on a dispatch mission when partnered alongside reader (whose a witch), and when he’s attacking reader in his monster form, she refuses to hurt him while he’s under the villain’s influence and she tries to bring him back, getting hurt in the process. After he reverts back and sees what he did to reader, he tries to avoid her to protect her from him and she has to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault (maybe ends with them getting together or at least insinuates a future relationship between the two, whatever you’d prefer).
I absolutely love this trope and would love to see your take on it with Sonar if you’re willing! ❤️
PAIRING: Sonar x Female Reader
SUMMARY: Sonar gets brainwashed while on a mission with you, getting attack wasn't on your to do list but now Sonar feels guilty even though he wasn't in control
TAGS: Sonar being controlled, Hurt/Comfort, Swearing, Reader is a Witch
A/N: This seems like a really fun thing to write, first post of Sonar! Yay!
"Sonar, Reader it's your time to shine and capture that villain that is causing chaos on the east side, let me know the stats once the mission is done" Robert's voice linked through your ear pieces
"On it Rob" Sonar linked back as he nodded towards you, both of you finally got to be on a mission together
Walking beside Sonar's side as your boot heels clicked against the concert, some light posts still on, making the building dim from the open night
Your fingers tingled with a familiar hum of magic, the kind that always warns you about something bad...
"Stay close, we might not know what this villain is cable of" Sonar's voice cut you out of your thoughts, his voice serious for once
It looks like he was getting the same type of feeling you felt just a second ago
"Sonar.." You voice whispered "Something's not right"
Your back was turned but then suddenly hearing a familiar shriek that could piece through your skull, covering your ears as you gasped
Sonar was on his knees, his whole body shaking
Then your whole body turned cold, your eyes widening as you noticed he was transforming into his beast mode which was unexpected from him unless it was necessary
"Son—ar.." You gulped as you looked up to a now fully transformed bat Sonar, who roared once he locked eyes with you
"Sonar.. Listen to me—" You were cut off as he lunged forward to you, getting out of the way as you started to run through an alley
"Sonar! I sweat to fucking God, what is up with you?!" You shouted, sliding as you got out of the alley then slipped but composed yourself once Sonar crashed into some trash behind you
"fuckfuckfuck!" You cursed multiple times as you tried to think on what to do but that was usually Sonar's ability
"Sonar you gotta fight it Buddy!" Yous shouted once more hoping he was able to hear you, hearing his roar behind you
He was right behind you until he lunged once again, pinning you beneath him as he roared again
Squirming and thrashing around as his claws cut through your skin, your arm bleeding down as you got out of his grip
Crawling backwards until your back was met with the wall, you were out of breath at this point
He stalked towards you as he got ready to lung at you again but this time you created a shield around you to protect you causing him to shriek
"Sonar.. please, it's me.. come back" You begged, your face turned into sadness
"I'm not fucking fighting you asshole! Come back to me!" You yelled out, you finally got a reaction of of him as his head tilted
"You are being controlled! You better come back or else I'm gonna kick your ass!" You hissed
The beast in front of you shriek and huffed, his shaking body shrinking little by little until Sonar was the one standing in front of you
Turning off your shield in pure exhaustion as you called out Sonar's name, seeing the terrified reaction on his face "What—" Lifting his face to see you
Your arm was bleeding, your cheek only slightly bruised and your clothes sort of torn from being pinned by him earlier ago
"Sonar" You reached out for him but he pulled back "Don't. Don't come near me— I could hurt you again—" He growled
Your face furrowed "Sonar, You weren't in control—"
"That doesn't matter! I'm dangerous and I shouldn't be near you! What if I hurt you again!" He shouted in anger as he turned away
You stood for a second, as you ignored the ache in your body from running and ran at him then suddenly hugging him from behind
"Name— What—" Sonar's confused voice called out to you
"I'm not letting you go" You're voice was muffled form his Harvard jacket
"And if you think I was to leave you after that then your fucking wrong.. You weren't in control but you're back now because you saved yourself and you didn't mean to do any of this"
Silence
"You.. You could've blasted me with your tinkle magic of your's"
"I didn't want to hurt you because I trusted you"
Sonar sighed, turning himself around as you let go to let him until he rested his chest on your head, his ears flopping from being upset
"You know you're going to be the death of me one day" Sonar mumble, his voice soft
You smiled as you two stayed until robert's voice came through "Sonar? Name? What's happening?"
