Teh Kih’Keldabe

Requests: Closed! ——————————————— 18+ only blog, but no NSFW

[sundarika]

✨ Hello ✨

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I’m a fairly new blog that specializes in fandom or prompt-based writing!

Do’s and Don’ts are stated below, as well as rules for requesting and fandoms I write for!

Requests: CLOSED

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Will Do:

|Headcanons| |Imagines| |Reader Inserts|

|Songfics| |OC Inserts| |Non-detailed Requests|

|Non-explicit romance| |Platonic Ships|

|Matchups| |SFW| |Character Ships|

|Dark / Yandere|**

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Will Not Do:

|Explicit Romance| |Commissions| |Non-con|

|Trigger Writing| |NSFW| |Heavy Gore|

|P*dophilia| |Inc*st| |Overly-detailed Requests|

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Fandom’s I Write For:

- Identity V

- Red Dead Redemption: I & II

- She-Ra: Princesses of Power

- Star Wars: Episodes I to VI

- Star Wars: The Clone Wars

- Star Wars: Rebels

- Star Wars: Fallen Order & Survivor

- Star Wars: The Old Republic

- Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II

- The Mandalorian

- The Owl House

- Transformers: G1, Energon, Armada, IDW, TFP

- Voltron: Legendary Defender

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Rules:

1. No multi-fandom requests.

2. Submit one request at a time please.

3. Maximum 3 characters per request (for imagines & individual headcanons).

4. No overly-detailed requests, but minor character descriptors and scenarios are permitted (gender, age, ethnicity, hobbies, location, etc.).

5. No large age differences/gaps. I will only write romantic relationships if the character is canonically an adult (or is assumed to be if no confirmed age exists).

6. Platonic relationships only between characters of significant differences or canonical parental influence/relations!

7. No explicit requests. I am not comfortable with writing intense gore, or NSFW content.

8. **Unless a character (ex. Overlord (TF), Darth Nihilus (KOTORII) has a naturally dark-ish personality, I will not write graphic or sensitive content related to tendencies!

9. No hate on my blog, this is an LGBT and skin safe page that does not tolerate blatant hate!

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✨ I hope you all have a wonderful day! ✨

[sundarika]

Hello! Can I have some hc with a protective mama Reader with Naib, Helena and Bane. They are my precious baby. I haven't play this game since season 13 and I miss them so much ahhhhhhh 😭😭. Thank you, have a nice day ❤❤🌷 (sr, my English is not good)

✨ Your English is wonderful dear ✨

[Naib Subedar, Helena Adams, Gamekeeper] S/O Is Overprotective

✨ As a reminder, my works will always include gn!reader unless specified by the requester! ✨

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[Naib Subedar]:

* You had been at the manor for quite awhile now, and were a rather nice person, getting along with most other survivors, and even some of the hunters to boot.

* It was quite surprising actually. You’d walked in the first day with a tough-guy attitude and gruff personality, and you didn’t seem like a very approachable person.

* Then, some survivors such as Victor and Emily started worming their way into your heart. Liam [Lucky Guy] and Norton were some of the first people to offer you a seat at the dinner table, and from then on you were one of them.

* You had scars, though most could tell they were more physical than emotional, from some sidejobs you used to complete for a gang on White Sand Street—robbing people and competing in fights with rivals.

* You quickly learned that most people fought back. Rival gangs always intruded on your own territory, and you were always left on guard, defending the last remnants of your livelihood and your sanity.

* Maybe that’s why you’re so protective over your things. Never letting anyone enter your room, never letting anyone see the pain you hide. Opening up to people enough to make allies, but never enough to show secrets.

* Now Naib…. Naib helped you out a lot. It seemed he understood you, far more than others. For some reason, he was always there for you, watching your back when needed, acting like a shield at times—sometimes literally.

* You never really understood at first, how he seemed to know you so well. From what you knew, he came from halfway cross the world, from Nepal, in India—a child, a soldier, a weapon.

* You guessed his life was rather similar, and assumed he’d come to the manor for quite the same reasons but, it was hard to see through the scowl on his face.

* At some point, you began to recognize the signs, the irritation, the avoidance. You recognized the silence, and the stiffness that came from Naib when he ate and smiled and nodded at their questions. You saw the signs of a brother, somebody just as lost and broken as you were.

* Children in the bodies of adults, forced to live life too fast and too furiously. Damaged and done in, waiting for someone to save them, but too scared to cry for help.

* Unwilling to hurt others again, unwilling to change.

* You grew wary—observant—of him eventually. You joined in more matches with him as teammate, and sat next to him often at dinner. When you noticed he didn’t eat as much, you grunted in concern. When he fell asleep in odd places, you’d bring him a blanket.

* It got to the point where he found out about your help, and tried to dissuade you from wasting your time.

* You never really listened. In fact, your worries only increased. Others might not have recognized, but you saw the signs of fatigue and death written in the lines of his face. You’d seen it every day back on White Sand.

* He gave up on making you give up, tired of attempted persuasions. Eventually began returning the favours—Naib is the type to have a ‘you watch my back, I’ll watch yours’ mentality.

* Everything you’d do for him is returned in kind. It annoyed the rest of the manor to no end because the giving and receiving eventually reached limits unheard of.

* You’d throw yourself on a rocket chair to save him, and next game you’d have your own personal bodyguard tracking your every move.

* He’d never admit it, but he appreciates all you do for him, and hopes you appreciate his efforts in making your life a little better too.

* Though your protective tendencies know no bounds, he hopes you’re a little more cautious with throwing your life on the line for him like that. This is a death game after all, be more careful…. please?

* At some point, the whole manor hopes you two could just get together and kiss it out in some storage closet. If you’re dating, what’s the need to be so consistent in you’re protective tendencies? Then you’ll always be together, which means nothing can ever happen to either of you!

* To be fair, that’s what most of them thought until an incident after the confession, where Naib wouldn’t let you out of the medical ward for a week due to a few hairline fractures.

* Please Naib! Emily begs you to let her use the examination table! You’ve hogged it for 5 days and she needs it to identify the infection spreading on Aesop’s leg! Vera broke her nose! William sprinted into the gymnasium wall and shattered his kneecaps! Please leave!

* You once set fire to a couch because Naib stubbed his toe on it.

* Please stop it you two, Freddy can’t budget for anymore furniture, and we’re fresh out of chairs.

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[Helena Adams]:

* Oops! Oh no her glasses! Aww shucks, Norton knocked them right off her face and onto the hardwood floor. She can’t find them because she can’t see, whatever shall she do?

* [S/o]! Please, she needs your help!

* You come in running with a pair of pliers, five bottles of anti-grease spray, and a box of extra lenses and a screwdriver.

* Oh how wonderful! You fixed her glasses—again—and saved her from the task of shuffling herself on all fours looking for them! Her hero!

* Helena…. praises you to say the least. You’re her best friend, her confidante, her…. big and strong, sometimes dumb partner!

* She adores everything you do for her, and tries equally as hard to do things for you that make your life necessarily easier, though it’s harder with her condition.

* She met you around the same time as everybody else, during your first days in the manor. Really, she didn’t actually know you were there until she bumped into a voice she didn’t recognize and became surprised.

* You quickly learned about her blindness, and made it your goal to form a friendship with her based on your willingness to help her around and get closer to her—she was very kind after all.

* Your protectiveness stemmed from the inherent feeling of a need to help guide and provide for Helena, much like a spouse would… jk, unless 👀….

* At some points, you were berated by her for your incessant protections, most of which made her feel highly dependent, which she didn’t like.

* She liked the feeling of being independent of others and being recognized as an autonomous, capable being. Especially considering what she came there for, it was a blow to her pride to be led around and pushed aside all the time.

* When she revealed these feelings to you, you had surprisingly promised her to cease in most areas of monitoring—however you still consistently check up on her—and settled into the realm of a relationship with her.

* Helena meets somebody who respects her opinions + acknowledges her intellect + isn’t a dingy asshole? Sign her up and slap on a ring, she’s marrying this person (eventually).

* She knows that your tendencies stem from a place of need and want, and tolerates most of them. Deep down, she likes being taken care of by someone who knows she can take care of herself. She really does love you.

* When you’re actually in a relationship with each other, you make sure to watch each others backs, more so you than Helena (because she can’t ‘watch’ per say), but you get the point.

* There was once an incident in a duo’s match where Helena became stranded on the Lakeside Fishing map. The terrain is rough, with piles of fish everywhere, randomly placed boxes and walls, and the barrels are bad enough when they don’t form a blockade.

* Her navigational skills, as good as they are with all her previous experience and staff, couldn’t for the life of her figure out how to move her way around a mess of box paths, pallets, and fishing stands.

* Most other survivors were occupied or dead—it had been a hard match against Jack the Ripper and Guard 26—and she was barred from reaching any form of help.

* So she screamed your name as loud as she possibly could across the map, and ended up attracting the attention of BonBon instead. During those moments where she could hear his clanks and heavy metalloid footsteps stalking towards her, the tick of a time bomb in hand, she heard a screech in the distance.

* A fierce battlecry—you came raging from around a windmill, propelled by William’s football and packing heat with a flare gun. BonBon, now stunned twice, stood there in astonishment, before chasing after you, who had grabbed Helena in your arms, running off at full speed.

* Your stamina bar, indicated by a small tab on your character, was running low, and you wouldn’t be able to run at full speed for another minute or two, having used your ability to buy time. Stopping near a closet, you lean down to place Helena on her feet, telling her to hide.

* Her blood trail was invisible from not actually having run anywhere, and she did as you said, making you promise to come get her when it was safe.

* You gave her a smirk and a small nod, assuring her that you would, before leaning in for a peck on the forehead as you shoved her into the locker.

* If only you could see her flushed in embarrassment.

* Leaving her to fangirl in the locker, you form a decoy in your arms—result of your max rescuer ability—and ran off once more, taking off around a corner just as Guard 26 reached your previous location, chasing after you and ‘Helena’ in hopes of landing two more kills.

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[Bane the Gamekeeper]:

* How does it feel to love a deerman? Good? Okay!

* Bane as you know is a little…. rough around the edges so-to-speak, and he has a lot of edges.

* Once you get around all the hooks, chains, and bear traps, and beneath that creepy-looking deer head of his, he really is such a sweet guy!

* At least you think so. In reality, he still acts like a complete dick to everybody else, and only shows his soft side around you, but that’s because he knows he can trust you with his lands, animals, and secrets! All those others out there only wish to hurt what he—you—have, and he’ll make them pay for it.

* Honestly, in order for him to have fallen for you so hard to have let his guard down around you, you probably would have had to be at your most vulnerable point in life, or a hunter yourself. Like a scared prey animal, uncertain of its future, waiting for something to happen, and somebody to help, or a huge predator, ready to strike out at any moment.

* Once you worm your way into his cold dead heart, there’s no way out for you. He’ll keep you close, as he doesn’t want you to be poached away like his precious animal friends from the past. He knows how cruel humanity can be sometimes.

* When you come to find out about his less-than-kind history, it’s all you can do to pity him. Your sympathy knows no bounds, and you become clingier, though he quite honestly likes it.

* You don’t want what happened to him to occur again, and with all these other traitors and murderers in the manor, you’re afraid of what the others could do.

* You keep to his side a lot more, take walks with him in the garden, and enjoy tranquil picnics from time-to-time on Lakeside. Anything to keep him close to you and away from all the pain.

* Bane can obviously see what your doing, and noticing that your protectiveness doesn’t yet border on the insane, he allows you to continue in your devotions.

* It’s honestly sweet sometimes how you both adore each other so much, even if you know that one day one or both of you will have to leave. Whether it be through death, disappearance, or another means such as escape is a question of time, and one that neither of you know the answer to.

* If you’re also a hunter, than both of you know that while you two are happier now than either of you were in life, that your individual deaths and worths will eventually determine your fates—whether that be a happy afterlife, or an eternity of endless wandering.

* It’s well known that you’ll both disappear the day the game ends, your souls being put to rest as they should’ve been however long ago. Until then however, you’ll continue to hold on to and vehemently protect the relationship the two of you have, and you’ll fight until your soul vanishes from the earth for what you have to remain that way.

* Now, if you’re a survivor, this is where the relationship can be a bit difficult.

* Avidly defending the actions of your boyfriend during and after a match to the rest of your survivor buddies isn’t a very good look for you, or your reputation. It’s been many times where you’ve almost been chased out of the dining room because somebody was pissed at you for costing them the match, or being the only one spared instead of convincing Bane for a win or tie.

* As they say, if you can’t beat em’, join em’. Some survivors, such as William, Kreacher, and Freddy, have more than once suggested that if you loved a hunter so much, you should become one to be with him. Dating the undead almost crosses the line of what is humane. Aesop thinks you’re kind of cool.

* The hunters over on Bane’s side hate you more. Are convinced that you’re the sole reason that Bane goes friendly sometimes (even in matches without you in them), and that your relationship takes away from his brutal and violent persona and nature.

* Violetta and Michiko are the most tolerant of you, mainly because you gifted them silk and a hand fan for Christmas once when they wished for them in their letters.

* All-in-all, basically everyone blames you, but you keep going forward because who cares about all the nasty bi*ches in the world, am I right?

* Once, to prove the integrity and devotion of your relationship, you set Freddy’s room on fire and locked Kreacher in a closet. You looked Bane directly in the eyes and kneeling before him stated, “I have committed arson for you m’lord.”

* You couldn’t see it because of his deerish head and all, but Bane really went “Heart eyes motherf*cker.” on you in that moment.

* You love animals and set things on fire to prove your loyalty to him? Ticket for one please, he’s riding the simp train all the way to the station.

* Just, please don’t accidentally burn down the manor, he wants to spend as much time with you as possible before he disappears.

* Also don’t joke around with your life, it’s too precious, even when you tackle your own teammate or risk getting hit by Ganji’s cricket ball to save him from being stunned.

* He doesn’t want you dying before he does—has already he supposes—or disappearing without a trace.

* You promise you’ll stick with him until the day you finally leave this wretched place.

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✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sundarika]

I love your headcannons so much!And I hope I'm not being too brazen. You may have a caver headcannon cover version!S/O, but with the DJD option? Perhaps Tarn finds the clips with his human himself, or he hears her singing in one of the rooms and wants to listen to more.

[TF MTMTE] DJD S/O Who Makes Cover Songs

✨ Image Credits: [yum_cokeart] on twitter ✨

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* Tesaurus had trashed yet another datapad today, it having been caught on multiple of his serrated chest-blades when he tripped and landed on it. Nickel had cursed him out while trying to remove large pieces of shrapnel from Helex’s mouth, and Vos did the archaic equivalent of calling him a little bitch.

* Tarn had strut into the room only moments before this, and could only watch on in exasperation at the unfolding events before his optics.

* He began nagging Tesaurus for damaging yet another of their devices, and especially one that contained important information on the whereabouts of the next listed victim.

* He only wished they could see the size of his scowl right now, but the mask sadly stays on, especially with the tens of acidic solutions and plague microbes Nickel had recently been experimenting with sitting on a counter about two feet away.

* Kaon was nowhere to be seen in the room at the moment, but he assumed that the blind bot was probably off running another errand or playing fetch with the pet again.

* [S/o] wasn’t there either, which made Tarn curious. Usually they would be with someone at all times. Not saying that they were a prisoner, it’s just that their ship is vast, and the bots on it are massive, hulking beasts and mass murderers.

* He was assured by Nickel that they were most likely in their habsuite, ‘chilling out’ as the saying went, and watching some sort of Earth film for entertainment.

* So he set off to find [S/o]: the only tolerable being on the ship.

* A classical sound was emitting from behind the door to their habsuite, as well as a very operatic voice—clear and soft—and the distinct notes of an ancient latin dialect.

* Tarn assumed that [S/o] was listening to their own share of classical music over the human radio Kaon had acquired for them, but did not expect to enter the room and find no tiny metal stereo in sight.

* Instead, he arrives to you—violin in your hand—repeating the lyrics of ‘Ave Maria’ to yourself, with an old music box sitting on the dresser counter in front of your studio letting off little chimes.

* Immediately, you swung around, effectively ceasing the train of sound, and startling Tarn as he looked down upon you.

* “Hello there Tarn, do you require something?” You asked.

* He begged to differ, there was nothing he required—least not anymore—rather he only hoped you would continue to sing such a lovely tune.

* You granted his wish, on the agreement that he wouldn’t speak a word of your talents with the other members of the DJD. You had a beautiful voice, you wouldn’t deny it, but the concept of the crew being as enamoured by it as Tarn was seemed extremely embarrassing.

* Jokes on you, he ended up revealing the secret anyways. For every ability that Tarn prides himself on, secret-keeping isn’t one of them. He sucks at it. Badly.

* Vos was first, due to his smaller, sneakier nature, and quiet disposition. He makes himself practically invisible one day while awaiting you in your habsuite—most likely to scare you—and ends up witnessing Tarn entering the room along with you.

* He wants out because he believes ya’ll are about to do something rather obscene, but eventually calms down when he realizes you’re both sitting on opposite sides of the room, Tarn seeming to be waiting for something.

* And the music plays, and the voice that sounds out of the stereo rings like a soft whisper in his audials- but wait…. it’s you who’s singing? There’s no autotune or cheap records playing, just the sound of your sonorous voice? Sign him up for every concert, he demands front row seats for all performances.

* After Vos finds out, it’s only a matter of time before both him and Tarn reveal the nature of your secret to everybody else.

* To be fair, you live on a ship in close-quarters with every bot onboard. All their rooms are located right next to yours, just down the hallway in fact. There’s no way no one would be around to hear you sing unless the ship was completely abandoned.

* Nice trying though [S/o].

* Nickel and Tesaurus are next to find out, and Kaon and Helex are last, too busy with their own psychotic tendencies to notice.

* They all demand physical copies of your cover songs, and install CD players in all their alt modes to constantly keep your music with them.

* It was hilarious trying to fit a CD player on Tesaurus. Man has a hole in his chestplate, and all other space is taken up by blades and vital organs. He had to have 3 cosmetic surgeries and a transplant before he was able to use a fold-in player. Oh, the things he does for the likes of his squishy friend.

* Luckily, after the discovery, nothing really changes. Tarn appreciates them even more now, and Tesaurus treats them as less-of-a-squishy-pest-more-of-a-cuddly-pet.

* Nickel doesn’t really react. She’s far too focused on refining her experiments and sharpening medical tools to attend [S/o]’s constant concerts and give them praises.

* Don’t doubt that she doesn’t adore their voice though. She has most records on repeat in her office and examination room. Even prisoners she’s confined to the operating table have less complaints when they listen to them. They spend less time screaming and more time in awe. She appreciates that they make her work easier.

* Vos and Helex no longer treat them as a cuddly pet, rather an actual human being—with sentience—and agree that they’d be famous amongst the Cybertronian music industry if their planet were still around.

* “Hey you—see this human? Yeah, this human right here. This human, our [S/o], is the single-most beautiful creature in the universe and has a voice that could rival the gods. Blasphemous? Maybe. But do we care? Not at all, and you will listen to them or we will kill you.”

* Jokes on whoever they were threatening (probably a rogue Decepticon), the DJD will kill em’ anyways, but at least your voice will send them off in tears of joy (and agony).

* Sometimes they force prisoners into attending their [S/o]’s concerts. They strap them to a chair (sometimes Kaon in his alt-mode) and let them listen to you.

* If they aren’t singing multiple praises by the end of your act, they face immediate death by electrocution for making their precious human sad. If they’re terrified but complimenting you on your performance, it’s a win-win situation! Their [S/o] is happy, and they receive a quicker death!

* They usher you out of the room before the killings though: you aren’t allowed to stain your precious eyes and ears with gore and awful screeching!

* Never, never, let them discover youtube. Ever.

* Their human actually records or has recorded cover songs and music videos in the past? Fancy outfits, choreography and all? Bet that they’re all signing on to dance with [S/o] sometime. Nobody is safe.

* They are now the Dancing Justice Division on youtube and somehow manage to accumulate a massive following. [S/o]’s vids are more popular than ever, with over a billion views, and the United Nations is terrified because you just amassed support for the biggest squad of indestructible organic-hating serial killers the galaxy has ever seen.

* Tarn believes you are the saviour of the Decepticon cause: an organic being who has more power than Megatron in being able to control an entire planets population and singlehandedly turn them to the side of the Decepticon cause? Beautiful, marvellous, absolutely stunning, gorgeous.

* He disregards his prior beliefs in that all organics are worthless creatures. Obviously if you and the other Decepticon-aligned humans exist, then some organics must have a strong intellectual capacity!

* They all hold their [S/o] in such high regards now. Are completely convinced you can use your abilities to win over other species as well.

* Tarn vows to restore Cybertron and dedicate an entire political faction to your image and name—you will be reborn as a Cybertronian legend, even long after your death. He promises.

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✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sundarika]

✨ Masterlist Post ✨

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RULES AND FANDOMS

Requests: OPEN

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TRANSFORMERS:

Oneshots:

[TF MTMTE] "A Model Friend-Ship!"

Headcanons:

[TF MTMTE] S/O Who Makes Song Covers

[TF PRIME] S/O Is Friends With The Insecticons

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IDENTITY V:

Oneshots:

Headcanons:

[Lucky Guy] General Headcanons

[Victor Grantz] General Headcanons

[Melly Plinius] General Headcanons

[Edgar Valden] Relationship Headcanons

[Bloody Queen] General Headcanons

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VOLTRON:

Oneshots:

[Lance McClain] "Under The Sun"

Headcanons:

[sundarika]

Hey yo! :D For the requests: how about a vld post-canon fanfic in which the reader helps Lance to move on, while still remembering Allura with respect and fond memories, which ends up in a sweet love confession? :3 If you need more details, please don’t hesitate to ask. Thanks, and have a good day!

[Lance McClain] “Under The Sun”

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“It’s been quite awhile now, I wonder when Lance is coming home?”

You pondered without so much as a doubt that he’d be back eventually, but you were a bit worried about your long-time best friend. It was late into the summer evening now, and the gradient dark blue was only just beginning to peek over the horizon. He was out late far more often now, though you supposed it was because Allura’s death had hit him hard, but you were in disbelief in seeing the usually peppy and flirtatious boy so…. depressed. It was heartbreaking to witness.

Staring out the farmhouse window, you watched the tall grass sway in the fields beyond and the slight breeze ruffle through the distant image of an apple orchard. The sun was nearly set by now, and soon the stars would be clear in the sky—a constant reminder of the paladins journey across the galaxy.

Knowing that there was so much life out there beyond the Earth you knew, you could barely comprehend just how significantly small your life was in comparison. You hadn’t travelled with the paladins or engaged in conversation with Allura beyond briefings during the Galran invasion, but you understood that the universe they witnessed was oh-so-incredibly vast and endless.

And now you felt oh-so-incredibly lonely in it. You weren’t close with many of the other paladins, besides Hunk and Pidge of course. Shiro had his new husband, Coran was too iffy for your tastes, and Keith…. well he was always off and away. With Altea restored to its rightful glory, commerce and politics between itself and Earth were bustling and swell, never better, and many of the paladins, including Lance from time-to-time, were busy making deals and new friends.

And you felt left out and abandoned because of that. It wasn’t fair that you hadn’t been accepted into the space academy, only because there was a limit to the number of accepted students, and it wasn’t fair Lance left without a single word to you, on some grand adventure for years on end without so much as a word, and it wasn’t fair that you were helpless in all things besides cooking or cleaning or feeding the animals out in the barn, or giving Lance a hug when he needed one, or looking after his siblings while his parents were gone or just—being there. It just wasn’t fair that they’d all experienced so much of life, and you hadn’t done anything in the meantime. Your meagre living was nothing in comparison to their heroism and praise. You felt selfish for thinking this way, so you never voiced your concerns to anybody, especially Lance.

“I wonder what he’d think of me, thinking this way,” you looked out unto the glimmer of stars appearing beyond the clouds, “he’d look at me and think ‘Life is never fair, you should deal with it.’ What a joke.”

You suppose you were satisfied for now with just being able to be near Lance, as a friend and support for when he needed you most, even if he didn’t know it.

“Oh Allura,” stepping outside, your eyes had an even clearer view of the skyline, and the sunset appearing within your vision, and you could almost feel the expanse of the universe looking down upon you, Allura among the vast amount of stars blazing within it, “tell me what I should do to help him. Tell me how I should be there for him, in the same way you were and in ways otherwise. How can I make him happy now you’re gone?”

Of course, you would never receive an answer beyond a pregnant silence, and the echo of your own voice over the hills and through the house where the children were asleep. You kept your eyes on the stars, hoping they’d give you some form of sign, an astrological message that could guide you, a vision of some kind, but there was only emptiness, the soft yet visible twinkle of each individual sun, burning lightyears away.

Sigh. You really should’ve expected this you suppose.

“Speaking to the sky, I’m selfish and an idiot!”

You gripped your [H/c] hair and yanked it downwards, chanting ‘idiot’ over and over again, like a mantra or a prayer, hoping it would relieve some of your many frustrations, until you heard a small sound from a hay bale around the side of the house, near an old trough used to store feed.

“Hello? Anybody there?”

Silence was all that answered at first, but then a small series of whimpers came from the area. You grabbed a pitchfork and slowly made your way over to the bale, creeping closer and bringing the pitchfork up to your chest, ready to strike.

“AAAAAAAAAAH!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

A terrified Lance dunked himself into the trough, getting his backside stuck before tipping it over and having it land on top of him while attempting to crawl away.

“Dios mío [Y/n], you scared me!” Lance stood up and dusted off his jacket and pants, rubbing at his eyes and making an awful attempt at hiding his face away from your sight.

“Well I’m sorry, oh merciful Lord Lance, but you being secretive and not answering me when I asked has a lot to do with that.”

He looked away from you for a further moment before responding.

“Well, I uh…. just wanted to be alone for a minute y’know? All my siblings and family n’ stuff, kind of makes my back stiff and mind numb from time-to-time.”

You watched solemnly as he tried to laugh it off, sitting back down on the edge of the trough, head leaning in his hands and staring off into the distance, obviously bothered by something. You were curious, but you didn’t have any right to pry if he didn’t want to tell you first. You’d respect his wishes if he really did just want to be alone.

“Well, alright then,” you smiled softly at him, forcing yourself off your knees and turning around to head back inside, “if you want to talk, I’ll be back inside. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

You began to walk away, adamant on getting back upstairs to the comfort of your bed and laying awake all night, when you felt a small weight on the back of your shirt. Lance’s hand had managed to grasp the fabric while you were walking away, and though you turned around to ask him why, he had barely moved from his position on the trough, only gazing at you with unshed tears in his eyes.

“Can you stay for a moment,” he pleaded, “please? It’ll only take a minute [Y/n], I swear.”

‘Allura give me strength’ you thought, letting out an exasperated sigh and seating yourself beside him on the ledge, barely glancing at him again, preferring to turn your sights to the horizon once more. You knew it’d be another nightly session of listening to his fears and sorrows, meanwhile drowning in your own self-doubt and anxieties. This also meant that tomorrow you’d wake up questioning your worth again, comparing yourself to the woman you’d come to respect and admire, and a woman who was now gone off to the afterlife, long before you.

“Tell me what’s up Lance. What’s eating away at you this time tonight, huh? Lemme guess, is it your girlfriend again?”

You watched as Lance fiddled with a piece of straw, rolling it back and forth between his palms, keeping his gaze on the sunset ahead.

“No,” he muttered, “more of an apology really.”

You nearly did a spit take, staring at him like he was a chicken with two heads. You never thought you’d be hearing an apology from the Casanova himself, let alone one aimed at you. Usually he was too cocky to have second thoughts.

“Sheesh Lance, what’s gotten into you? Did your mom finally drill some manners into that peabrain of yours?”

You jokingly put him in a headlock and started ruffling his hair, Lance desperately trying to remove your arm so he could fix his ruined part.

“[Y/n] c’mon! I styled my hair hours ago, I nearly kept it perfect for the whole day!”

He began running his fingers through his hair to put it back in place. Concentrating on perfecting it once more.

“Oh Lance, what kind of farmer like you needs styling gel? It gets greasy in a couple minutes anyways so why even bother.”

“It’s the thought that counts [Y/n]!”

You snorted as he huffed at you, the two of you quipping at each other reminded you of the days before he left off to the academy. Then you remembered,

“Oh right, the apology. Glad to see you learned some common courtesy, but what’s this all about Lance?”

You really needed answers. He suddenly went quiet and seemed to contemplate something for a moment. He worried you, and he knew it too, that you were expecting an explanation for an apology he probably wasn’t ready to give.

“Well you see [Y/n],” he stared directly at you, “I know that I’ve been down recently, and that you’ve always been…. there, I guess, for me when I needed you to be. And I know that I’ve never even thanked you or given you something in return, and that by using you as a way to escape my own problems, I’ve given you some of your own,”

He stopped for a moment to see if you were still paying attention, and seeing you looking at him with encouragement, he continued,

“I’m so sorry, [Y/n]. Really, I am. I was being dumb like always and pouring out my feelings onto someone who had difficulties of their own to deal with, and I never really thought about how I was hurting you…. I’m sorry. When Allura was here, and I was back out in space, battling alien hordes and saving the galaxy…. I felt like everything was right in the world, and that I was living my best life, being beside all the people I cared about, with friends I could trust. I didn’t realize until later that I completely forgot about you in the process, the best friend I left behind, who mattered maybe even more to me than I thought. I never meant to forget you, and I never meant to hurt you.”

He began to get nervous, losing the cocky persona he developed over the years completely, turning downtrodden and forcing out a final “I hope you can forgive me.”

Then he went quiet.

“….I never hated you, y’know,” you began, finally responding, “I never once despised you for leaving without me. I knew you’d come back someday, when I heard a lion took off from the desert that day, I just didn’t know when.”

You kept going, “If anything, I hated myself sometimes, for being selfish and wanting you to come back sooner, or blaming you in my mind for not taking me with you. It always felt unfair to me, that I was stuck here in a constant cycle of boring life, while you were out patrolling the universe, fighting Galra and going on cool missions-”

“-and nearly dying, like, 50 times!” Lance interrupted.

“….and nearly dying 50 times, yes.”

The sun was nearly gone now, disappearing quickly before you, clocking the time you’d been outside conversing in the summer heat—the pale moon climbing the sky behind you.

The stars shone ever-brighter, and the breeze had settled down, the grass at your feet stamped in and no longer swaying, and the crickets in the field were chirping, with the cows grazing in the meadow below, almost ready to head in for the night.

“I’m jealous Lance. And frustrated. But I never spoke a word of anything to you, because I loved you too much to bother you with any more problems than you already had. Nothings your fault, I was only emotional, and I have no disrespect for any of your friends or partners, including Allura. I only wish that you could’ve been happier.”

Ending your rant, you faced Lance again and shrugged, acting nonchalant, like nothing you said mattered at the moment. But he knew that whatever he said next would make a large impact on you.

“You loved me?”

You relaxed a little, “Still do Lance, never stopped even after you left. But, you came back with a space alien girlfriend, I knew I had to let you go.”

Allura was the light of his life, and he was the happiest you’d ever seen him in the weeks before her death. If she hadn’t needed to make a sacrifice, they would’ve probably grown old and had a life together, a family too, and he would have become the Altean King, with you far out of the picture. The little markings on the ridge of his cheekbones still detailed just how loving of a relationship the two were in. Even after her passing, you wouldn’t make a move when Lance only thought of you as a friend.

Both yourself and Lance were gazing at the sky now, completely silent, and yet there was an underlying comfort in the stillness, one which permeated through the air around you and invited a conversation to be had. Lance seemed to wish to speak in order to break it, scratching at the markings whilst trying to find the words to talk to you.

“Oh quiznak, words are too hard!”

Lance reaches across the trough to grasp the hand you’re using to stable yourself on the ledge, bringing it up to the space between the two of you and wearing the most serious expression you’ve ever seen on his face.

“When I was in third grade, I ran into a small child in the hallway and accidentally spilled their thermos of soup all over the floor. That tiny [H/c] kid became my desk-mate for all of third and fourth grade, and I remember having to give them my baloney sandwich because they wouldn’t stop crying till I did. In fifth grade, that same kid switched our lunchboxes because I had the better pizza pops, and in sixth grade, while taking a math test, they threw up all over the floor and I laughed like crazy; ended up going with them to the office because the teacher ‘didn’t like my attitude’. In seventh grade, I went to their birthday party and popped all the balloons, I stole half the cake and made off with three goodie bags before anyone could catch me. In eighth grade we became friends, and played pranks together on the other students during April fools, tipped an outhouse, and did each others homework because we both sucked at school. When I was in ninth grade, I gave them a Burger King crown and told them they ruled my world…. I know you know who I’m talking about.”

You began laughing the hardest you had in years, looking back on all the memories you and Lance had built up over the years, times when neither of you knew what would happen, and had big dreams and hopes for the future. The future had turned out to be far different from what both of you had expected.

“To be fair Lance, you were the one who threw up during that math test, not me. You cried for your mom all the way through the school and passed out on a couch in the lobby.”

“Shut up [Y/n], I’m attempting to be sentimental!”

When the laughter died down, and the world was quiet again, you gazed down at the entwined hands that rested between you two, and lazily swung them back and forth to see if he’d let go. When he didn’t, you smiled a bit,

“So what, this means your willing to try? To move on from Allura just like that? Forget everything you had with her and stick with me for awhile?”

He smiled brightly at you, as bright as the sun that could barely be seen, the final slivers fading away over the prairie.

“Allura’s not entirely gone,” he taps his markings, “these babies are a constant reminder of that. I’ll never forget the happiness she gave me, but I don’t want to keep dwelling on the fact that she’s gone. You’re here with me, more than anything, and I hope that we could stay this way for as long as we can.”

“I’d like that.”

It’s far too late to keep outside you realize, and the night brings with it a chilling cold that practically freezes your clothes to your skin, and tinges the air with frost. The fall season is coming, and summer is nearly over, and with it comes the colourful leaves, and the frosted grass, and the wilting flowers. You stand up, dragging Lance with you, and dust off the seat of your pants, preparing to head inside to bed.

Now the darkness has settled, the sun is gone. You take your hands and guide Lance around the house to the doorway. The door creaks open and shuts behind the two of you, and as you say your goodnights, you head off to your room. And as the glow of the moon enters through your window, enshrouding the walls in a pale light, you lay there and ponder.

Truly, you hope that you can spend many more days with Lance down in the fields, and with the cows and the tall grass, and out in the apple orchard, where the two of you will lie, down in the top soil, under the sun.

———————————————————————

BONUS:

“[Y/n], know that you’ll always be my Burger Queen.”

“Lance please. Shut the fu*k up.”

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✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sundarika]

headcanon in two parts, sorry. Ask does not miss it. 1.1 Oh, you know the insecticons from the tfp? Can I have a headcanon where a S/O person is on friendly terms with insecticons?

[TF PRIME] S/O Is Friends With The Insecticons

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* [S/O] meets them by accident quite a bit before the events of the Energon Eaters. Arachnid is still “leader” of the Insecticons by technicality as the only available ‘Queen’ for the hive-mind, however she never really patrols the area or takes care of the hive as she should, rather choosing to wander as a free mind, disobeying orders from everybody.

* You had stumbled upon the hive while taking a short walk along the side of the Jasper highway, leading out of town and to an old coal mine you liked to inhabit on your days off work. A home-away-from-home of sorts, it brought you peace of mind to have a quiet place.

* At least you thought it was a quiet, desolate area until you broke through a thinning in the rock floor of the entry shaft and ended up crashing an Insecticon tea-party.

*It was a rather awkward fall, and it had injured your hip joint on the way down, leaving you temporarily paralyzed in throbbing pains and nerve damage.

* The giant bug-like robots and their shiny, metal wingspans immediately armed themselves and aimed at the shifting dust and rockfall, growling and chittering in a language of some sort, unknown to you.

* “Is it one of those ugly-faced Decepticons ploys again?”

* “It’s too small and squishy, much sooner to be a predacons’ chew toy than any weapon.”

* You looked super confused, absolutely stupefied, completely duped, utterly incomprehensible, awkwardly awed, amazingly idiotic, a-

* Their manner of speech and vocal patterns was practically lost on you. You could pick up remnants of a language similar to broken [language], but really nothing else. In an attempt to make contact with the metallic giants to gain help, you enabled your parroting capabilities.

* Humans have the stunning ability to mimic sounds and specific noise frequencies, at levels other earthen animals, especially mammals, cannot. Using this ability, you managed to copycat the grinding and chattering noises coming from the vocal mass of bug-bots.

* [S/O]: “¿Krrt-grrut vvurrr chechch?”

* Hardshell: “¿Buzzzz vert-tet-brrrz, Erreech?”

* [S/O]: “¿Erreech?”

* Hardshell: “¡VRREE BUZZZ-EECH CLICKLICKIK!”

* The contact went well, unbeknownst to you, and the successful communication meant that you might actually have a chance at escape, or finding a hospital!

* Congrats! You are now [Tiny Bug Child]! You have no idea what they were speaking about, unaware that they were contemplating how to execute you, but you successfully managed to evade death by being cute and cuddly! People say curiosity killed the cat, but it evidently saves the naive human-who-fell-into-an-insect-cult-meeting!

* Hardshell, the Insecticon you nearly landed on top of, begins to lift you out of the rubble, and place you down upon a makeshift stone table, partially destroyed by the collapse. The others—including Wingflap, Bombshell, Shrapnel, Blockhead, and Kickback—gather closely around you, cooing and chirping in their weird language again.

* This was, evidently, how you became the new Queen of the hive, though you didn’t know it, and managed to befriend your way through the entire enclosed community and worm into the spark of every Insecticon, though they were very few in number.

* You made easy friends with Bombshell, and remained close with him up until his untimely death by Bulkheads hammer fist. He would often lay atop the Jasper cliffside with you, and make out shapes in the clouds, constellations in the stars—regaling to you tales of the Old Cybertron, when his own kind weren’t so despised, and were respected as viable assets and allies amongst those with forms like and unlike their own—until the Autobot Elitists ensured they were seen as ugly and malformed, made to hide away in the shadows and step away from society for ‘the greater good’.

* It’s how you came to hate the Autobots—and Decepticons—for all they had done, to their planet and yours, and to your friends as well.

* Your mimicry slowly turned into actual speech patterns and recognition. Repetitive sound signals were a key portion of Archaic Insecticon speech, which made it easy to recognize simple words or phrases, each indicated by a set of whirs, clicks, or beeps.

* Now that you could actively communicate with most of the hive, it was far easier to make friends with even the hardiest of bots.

* Hardshell, of course, was tough to crack. At your constant insistance, he spoke with you once or twice, and made sure to acknowledge your presence when in the room, as well as save you a seat at the underground pub every other weekend. It wasn’t actually a pub per-say, rather a dugout chamber with smooth walls and some stone slabs insert for seating, where the cons enjoyed engex they could sneak off the Nemesis from time-to-time.

* After awhile, he warms up to you, welcoming you back to the hive every day after work, standing alongside his multiple siblings, and pushing others aside to get to hold you first.

* Meanwhile this all happens, they still don’t know what a human is. Their simple understanding of earth comes only from what they’ve seen on the highway from the cliffside, or from video footage of the Autobot pests on the Nemesis. Due to their bulky size and noisiness, they’re banned from most human-inhabited areas.

* Don’t doubt that some of them have attempted to follow their [S/O] home. They have. And some of them won’t stop trying. It’s been more than one awkward encounter between you and some teens to get them to realize they could get you in trouble.

* You all eat [dessert] together sometimes, made with energon supplements for ‘The Boys™️’, with some good ol’ 25-something-kg of sugar mixed in.

* The boys were worried when you didn’t show up for a week due to hospitalization via severe food poisoning medical coma.

* When Arachnid finally returned to Earth, and her fight against Arcee had proceeded about as well as expected, she located the hive and proceeded to force them to engage in business with Megatron. She believed that by implementing her own soldiers amongst the ranks, she’d be better equipped to backstab Megatron when the time came.

* She was undoubtably surprised when Hardshell and some others adamantly refused to take part in her plans at first, until she enforced their compliance through the hive-mind.

*When she learned of your existence, and the very gauge of your importance to her former hive, she came at you with full force.

*The Insecticons were fully unprepared to deal with a fight between their small [S/O] and an extremely angry ex-Queen. In refute, they returned you to the surface without so much as a goodbye, and begged you to escape before Arachnid scented you out.

* It was soon after these events that you learned of Breakdown’s death, Bulkhead’s coma, and Bombshell’s demise due to the combined effects of a substance called Tox-En and injuries sustained during his battle with Bulkhead. It broke you inside to learn there was nothing you could have done to help, but you refused to disobey their pleas to stay away for awhile.

* At the hive, Arachnid rules supreme. Being able to control the hive-mind was a feat a human was incapable of achieving, only Cybertronians able to easily access the imbedded chain of command.

* Hardshell mourned the loss of a true friend—a small, squishy human—but a friend nonetheless.

* Wingflap and Kickback went through a collection of memories you’d left behind with them. Pictures and small objects gifted over the years, a small treasure trove of important parts of their lives, now without you in them.

* Shrapnel stims a lot more now, and has nervous tics that he believes are the result of the loss of his dear friend. He knows you aren’t dead, least not yet, but he knows that you’ll likely never come back.

* Blockhead, as dumb as everybody thinks he is, is actually very emotionally intelligent. He has a way with words he barely understands, and [S/O] acted as a big support for someone like him. Without them now, he can no longer function like normal, and now has nobody left to talk to.

* Arachnid could care less. She absolutely despises [S/O], and would smite them for all she cares. You matter little to her, and only worry her for the loyalty and capacity of her troops.

* It isn’t until the Energon Eaters appear that everything turns completely south.

* [S/O] finally builds up enough courage to march themselves back down to the mine, and demand to meet Arachnid face-to-faceplate.

* The desert is hot, Nevada is hotter, and the trek down the highway seems endless and tedious. You pass by 5 interstate signs on your way to the hive, and count the steps it takes to reach the entrance, parched by the time you make it there.

* In all your sweaty glory, you, [S/O], make your way down the carved pathway into the mineshaft, dark and cramped—just as you left it.

* But everything is exactly as it was left, not an item out of place. The entire hive was empty, including of those you cared about. Their rooms are full of memories, and their energon cubes still lie in a corner, collecting dust and grime.

* The search seems profitable, yet it leaves you with nothing, and the emptiness of the hive echoes around you, and in all the chambers, through the cavern walls of every room.

* You know they’re gone, that they have left without you, and without so much as a simple passing note.

* Perhaps someday you’d find them, hiding away in another Jasper mine, but you never would.

* In their haze of a hive mind, they barely even remember the face of the human they left behind. A long line across the moon—stretching on for miles—and a vampire on a false throne, draining the lifeblood from their veins, and the image of [S/O] from their minds.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sundarika]

Headcanons. S/O has toy figures of almost all the bots with it on LL (not the figures that made Ten. I hope you understand, ah, which are, well, uh, sold in stores). If someone does something wrong or just stupid, the person takes a picture of the figure in the correct position and sends it to a general chat like "he doesn't like it/"he's just disappointed/he come to do reports and beat faces. As you can see, he has already made his reports".

✨ I turned this into a oneshot instead sorry ✨

[TF MTMTE] “A Model Friend-ship!”

———————————————————————

It hadn’t been a very eventful day on the Lost Light—the halls were empty and most of the commanding officers were rather relaxed today you noticed. Noted, it was finally a day off for you and the rest of the crew members, and you could use it to do whatever the hell you wanted, so you decided to finally get down to business.

“Sheesh, now where did I put those tools,” you began looking under the berth and shelves in your shared habsuite with Rung, “I was sure that I left them around here somewhere....”

Rung then slowly waltzed into the room and watched as you stuck your head under another shelf plating, searching for something unknown to him.

“What might you be looking for [Y/n]?” He pried, confused as to why you were now scouring the floor.

“I seemed to have misplaced my toolbox—it has all my spare parts and scrap metal inside it too, a real loss if it all goes missing.”

You stared up at him—towering over you despite his small stature compared to the other bots on board.

“You have any ideas as to where it wandered off to?”

Rung thought about it for a moment, a digit on his faceplates deep in thought before he asked, “The little blue crate that makes the funny clinking noise?”

You nodded, and gestured harshly, “I swear to Primus Rung, if you did something to it, I will scrap you for spares.”

“If you’re insinuating that I stepped on it, I can assure you I did not,” he pulled out a toolkit from beside his ship models, “I kept it up here in case I ever crushed it when walking into the room. You do have a habit of leaving it lying around you know.”

You gladly accepted the box into your awaiting arms, practically hugging it like a lifeline once it landed with you again. You held it up above your line of sight, staring at its rusted edges and black handle—the blue paint having chipped away after years of use by your father, who worked as a small shop mechanic back in your hometown when you were younger.

“Finally, I can get back to work!”

You popped the hatch keeping the lid closed and laid out the objects within it beside you on the metal flooring—consisting of a few awls, small hammers, wedges, a multi-purpose screwdriver, and some glues—and began removing small parts from a separate compartment beneath them.

“Rung, do you have any small gears I could work with? Preferably a spur gear on a 1 inch scale? I need one for the left arm on my model but I can’t find any in my gearbox!”

Rung stuck his servo out of a side room he used for building models, and waved over to the far-right corner of the room, “Yeah, there should be some spare gears over in the bottom compartments of my cabinet, below the files! If you can’t find any, go ask Brainstorm or Perceptor, they should have some hanging around the lab somewhere!”

You thanked him and began began rummaging through the compartments of his workspace, searching for a spur gear but only finding springs and worm gears. You sighed, and climbed on top of the desk to activate the door sensors so you could exit the room. You made your way down the halls, running into a few bots on the way, briefly chatting with Nautica about her latest ventures before continuing on your merry way.

Nobody besides Rung and a few of the medical officers knew of your little hobbies—making posable models of all your friends as a form of entertainment and remembrance—and you would have rather liked to keep it that way. You didn’t want to find out how many of them would find it creepy that you made little figures of them in your spare time, although you figure a whole bunch of bots would much rather find it endearing. You made Rung promise to keep it a secret, and he readily agreed, mainly because your use of bot models was similar to his own model ship collection—he begged you to build a mini-rung so he could place it inside his mini-Lost Light.

Back to the present day, you made your way into Perceptor and Brainstorms lab, nearly stepping in some spilled energon on the way in, Whirl probably having gone off on a tangent once again. Brainstorm was out on some mission at the moment, so Perceptor was your best bet at finding the gear piece you needed.

“Yo Percy,” you swept back your [h/c] hair, “I need to speak with you for a minute! I have a gear piece I need to find and Rung told me you might have what I need!”

Some crashing noises sounded from a storage area in the back, Perceptor emerging from the space moments later, a laser drill in his hand.

“What was that you needed [Y/n]? I could have sworn you needed something.”

“....I need a 1-inch spur gear for a little project I’m working on. Rung told me that I might find one here so.... do you have any?”

He looks back into the storage area worriedly, but quickly looks back to you and forces a smile, sliding a white door over the area while facing you, making you perk your eyebrows in suspicion.

“Uh, yeah, I think I have the gear you need! It should be in a crate around here somewhere—check under the desk for it and I’ll check the back!”

You eyed him warily before turning around to search under his desk. You sifted through crates full of datapads and spare parts, but had no such luck in finding the piece you needed. Hopping out of the crates, you hit the floor and started off to search elsewhere within the laboratory.

“I think I found it!” You heard Percy shout from the back room, soon after walking out with a seemingly small gear between his digits.

“This what you were looking for?”

He places a spur gear in your hands, however it was much too large for any model you’d be making.

“Uh, no. Sorry Percy, I think most of the gears you’d have belong to Cybertronian tech that I’ve never dealt with. It’s a spur, but it ain’t the right size bud. If you’d let me, maybe I could look in the storage for it directly?”

He seemed a bit nervous at that, you could see his shoulders sink dramatically and his derma morph into a frown. He soon wandered back to the white door of the storage area and quickly opened it, turning back to you with a hesitant smile whilst blocking your view of the inside.

“Sorry [Y/n], I have some delicate materials back here that can’t be tampered with, and that’s the only small gear I could find. If I don’t have what you’re looking for, what about Ratchet? He always has something in that subspace of his worth asking about!”

You gave him a small nod and exited the room again, taking off down the hall once more, unaware of the small sigh of relief from Perceptor and Brainstorms helm popping out of the habsuite across the hallway, clambering into the lab alongside Rung as soon as you turned the corner.

“Jeez, what’s a person gotta do to get a gear around here? On a highly advanced technological space ship surrounded by cybernetic life from a planet where everything is made of metal no less!”

You scratched the backside of your neck at that, and kept making your way down to the medical department. You hadn’t yet run into any other bots, not even when passing the bar, which you found quite odd, thinking that on a lazy day a lot of bots would’ve hit the drink, yet the entire ship seemed almost freakishly abandoned. You rounded the corner once more, seeing no one down the vast corridor, and perked your lips. You’d have to ask Ratchet where the heck everyone else had gone off to.

Entering into the medical wing, you had expected patients, annoying beeps, whirring machines, and First Aid or Ratchet rushing around to meet quotas—what awaited you however, was an empty area and complete silence. Ratchet nor any of the other medical officers were in sight, nor were there any patients or loud medical devices, which disturbed you quite a bit.

“Hey Ratch? Anybody home? First Aid, Roddy, Red Alert?” Nothing.

The area was clear of any life, all of its inhabitants having disappeared beforehand, leaving you alone in the darkness, and utterly confused as to where they went.

The permeating silence was deafening, and you left the room to take off back through the ship. The bar was still empty, the halls quiet, the lab now vacant, and even Fort Max’s office was missing of any flipped tables or broken objects. You were frankly creeped out. Maybe there had been a silent attacker? Or maybe they had all taken off on missions? But, no—that wouldn’t make sense. You’d run into a few bots only 10 minutes ago, and you would’ve heard any alarms or running if there’d been danger.

“If this is some big prank, I’m gonna lose it!” You screamed out into the ship, your voice echoing throughout it.

Huffing, you made your way back to the hab, hoping to gain an explanation of some sort from Rung, who’d give you one whether he likes it or not. You scanned the door open,

“That’s it Rung, what the heck is going on?”

Your habsuite was also empty. Your tools still laid on the floor, untouched, and the side room door was still open. Peering inside, you saw a partial ship model, but no psychologist at its helm, and only a softly glowing datapad in the dark of the room.

It was set to [language], so you could understand the premise of what it was saying, and read carefully through the contents on the screen.

“A meeting was called earlier by Ultra Magnus on the bridge. If you’re currently reading this [Y/n], it would be best to head down to the area as soon as possible. Captain’s orders, sincerely Rung.”

Why wouldn’t they have sent out a ship-wide alert? At least a message on everybody’s personal devices, in the hopes they carried them at all times. You would have received one as well if that were the case. You spun around and stomped down to the front of the ship. Ultra Magnus was gonna pay for not notifying you of an important event—you didn’t want to feel left out damn it! Arriving at the entrance, swiping an identification card across a touchscreen in order to access the helm, you impatiently tapped your foot and muttered curses under your breath.

“I’m gonna write a formal complaint to the Captain’s after this! Surely they didn’t forget I existed, I’m the only human on this blasted ship! Why, when I see em’ I’ll give them a piece of my min-”

“SURPRISE!”

“FUCKIN’ SHIT!” You pressed a hand to your heart and landed flat on your aft, startled by a whole bridge full of giant robots, servos out and smiling brightly as you entered.

“Wow, what a reaction,” sputtered Rodimus, laughing his aft off at the turn of events, “glad I let Ratch use the bridge for this lil’ scheme of his!”

You stuttered in confusion and astonishment, so this was why it’d been quiet all day; they’d been planning this since early this morning.

You rubbed your temples, gaining concern from a few of the bots onboard.

“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on? I’d like a solid explanation as to why I wasn’t aware of this.”

Brainstorm stepped up in front of the crowd and peered down at you, taking a stance and opening his intake.

“Well it was quite simple actually. Perceptor, Ratchet, myself and some others came together to create a little ‘thank you’ gift for you after all your efforts and time spent here on the ship.”

“That’s quite sudden,” you tilted your head, “so, what’s the real reason?”

Whirl burst out from the crowd and shoved a gawking Brainstorm out of the way.

“Truth is babe, we may-or-may-not have found out about your little model-making secret! Those easily breakable miniature toys of yours look a hefty-lot like us—how nice of you fleshy—and so we were like ‘hey, what if we got together and built a giant model-[Y/n]?’ and most of us agreed that it was a terrible idea, but we went ahead and made one anyways!”

Your eyes trailed up to the cybersuit in the centre of the room, which looked nothing like yourself, and pondered Whirl’s answer.

“So then why doesn’t it look anything like me?”

“Well....,” Whirl trailed off, “we may have gotten carried away a bit! Your face turned out ugly so I lobbed it off during construction, and these claws of mine kept messing up the details, so we scrapped the idea and made you a hyper-weaponized suit of cyber-armour instead!”

You stared slack jawed at him and the others after the explanation, both terrified and astounded at Whirl’s detailed depiction of events.

“So.... this was because I made small action figures of all of you as a coping mechanism for boredom?”

“Yes.”

“And you made a mechanized suit of armour for me based off of my description and preferences because you thought I’d appreciate it?”

“Yes, that and so we no longer have to worry about crushing you beneath our pedes.”

“.... Well, thank you.”

“No problem fleshy!” Whirl then stylishly backed off into the sea of faceplates, before Ratchet came forward and made an awkward attempt at a cough into his servo.

“Whirl’s description was.... accurate to say the least. Actually, we greatly appreciated that you cared enough about us to incorporate us into your craft, and wanted to show that we also appreciate you by incorporating you into ours, so-”

“So we made Rang steal that little gear piece of yours and send you on a wild moose chase throughout the ship so we could finish it up and bring it here without you finding out about it!” finished Whirl.

You felt like crying from happiness at the prospect of being somebody important to the bots, especially considering they were your best friends. Now, knowing you were just as much of a friend to them, it made you feel good to be a part of their team, but also....

“Whirl, it’s ‘wild goose chase’ not ‘wild moose chase’, and Rung! How could you have told them all about my model collection and hidden the gear from me when you knew I needed it?”

“Actually [Y/n], I’m all about patient confidentiality, that applies to you too. It was Perceptor who leaked the information. I only hid the gear so that you’d follow the trail we laid out for you. Here’s your gear back by the way.”

Rung placed the small spur into your hands, careful not to break or drop it when passing it over. You pulled out a small model robot from your pocket and attached the gear to the inner socket of it’s shoulder, then clicked the upper arm into place.

“Finally, it’s finished!”

You parted the crowd and strode up to Nautica, who glanced down at you for a moment as you stood at her feet.

“This is yours Nautica, I suppose I won’t have to hide them anymore now that you all know.”

Nautica yanked you up with the toy and hugged you to her chassis, swinging you around in joy, before placing you back down on the floor.

“Thank you [Y/n]! Best gift a femme could ask for!”

You gave her a thumbs up and strutted back to the front, passing Whirl, in which you stated a brief ‘I’ll make yours next.’ and continued to admire the mecha forged in your favourite colours.

Whirl stood there, appalled.

“WHAT DO YA MEAN ‘NEXT’? GET BACK HERE PUNY ORGANIC!”

———————————————————————

BONUS:

“Whirl, my designation is Rung, not Rang.”

“Whatever Tongue, my pride is more important than your name, and it has just been shattered by a puny human.”

“.... I am not a tongue.”

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sundarika]

General headcanons for Lucky Guy, perhaps? Please and thank you. -🌻🐝

✨ Of course ✨

[Lucky Guy] General Headcanons

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* His actual monomer (singular name) is Anoym. The anniversary card and site both stated this was a term he was often called by, taken from ‘Anonymous’ and ‘Pseudonym’, because he never actually stated his real name to any of the survivors, however his widely believed name is ‘Liam’.

* Liam was mostly a mystery around the manor—nobody ever attempted to make close contact with him, and he was generally invisible to most residents of the manor by some point.

* Hangs around the edges of the crowd, isn’t one to try to fit in, and is basically only focused on survival. Liam believes that making friends will only hurt him in the end—he’ll lose them to the death game, just like the life of that poor stranger.

* He has strange tendencies to talk to himself. Sometimes you can hear him mid-match whispering to himself at a cipher machine, other times he’s staring at a wall.

* Emily and Freddy used to speculate it was a result of all the trauma he’s experienced due to the death game, after all, he was at the manor long before any of them.

* The poor boy has witnessed a lot during his manor experience, it wouldn’t be too far fetched to believe he’d gone a little insane, if all of them hadn’t already.

* However, despite his quirks and tendencies, he’s still quite the happy fellow. In recent years at the manor, he’s grown out of his shyer persona and cracked open his shell a little bit. He smiles at passing survivors from time to time, and engages in conversation with some of the quieter people, such as Aesop or Andrew.

* Victor is his personal favourite person. They’re both rather shy and have quiet personalities, and Liam loves it when Wick gives kisses.

* When his birthday comes around, he feels like the happiest man alive. Before the manor, much like some others, he never really felt noticed or appreciated, and now, with a small community of people—friends—and tight-knit bonds, he truly feels seen. He never shares these thoughts with anybody however, and keeps the memories of the events hidden away in a journal next to his diary.

* He sleeps with an eye cover on—he dislikes crusty eyes in the morning and likes the sense of comfort and security the enforced darkness brings him, like an extra blanket.

* Sometimes stutters over his words, and it became really prominent once his maid costume arrived—a dare from Norton and Mike—that stuttering occurred when he was flustered.

* He’s never betting on who can make the most stuns ever again, they both have too much of an advantage.

* They called him ‘Unlucky Guy’ for awhile after that.

* Enjoys sunbathing and bubble baths, they boost his serotonin and make him feel like a kid again; small aspects of childhood memories of washing up after playing outside on a bright sunny day always return to him that way.

* He’s always had a more feminine figure, hence why he was able to fit into a maids’ costume, and has once before been mistaken for a lady.

* He was fairly pissed off, but could understand because of his more timid nature and small stature. From the backside you can’t really tell.

* He’s not pressed for time, and likes to live life slowly. The death game messes up his routine, because it forces him to to take chances and make risky plays in order to escape alive—sometimes putting others under the bus in order to scrape a win.

* That being said, Liam is compassionate—a little less so than Melly—and holds a deep sadness for some of the hunters and survivors. He’s one of the only ones who knows what Freddy did to Leo Beck, having discovered a ripped portion of the lawyer’s diary detailing the incident at the arms factory and Freddy’s involvement. He sympathizes greatly with Hell Ember because of this, and keeps and eye on the gardener, Emma, to make sure his daughter can make it out alive.

* He’s the bittersweet type of guy, and dislikes sour or extremely sweet flavours, favouring savoury foods. As such, he’s a fan of saltwater taffy and tarts, but avoids most other desserts, and prefers servings of Dim Sum and Yakitori that Wu Chang or Michiko sometimes make.

* His skills were only known to the other survivors when Martha needed an extra flare gun and Liam pulled it from a chest for her. Later, when Vera needed another bottle of Euphoria, he procured one from another box.

* Their looks of surprise and astonishment both made him giddy and disappointed to know that they appreciated his efforts but had formerly believed him to be useless.

* Chose the nickname ‘Lucky Guy’ as a pseudonym for the game because of a nickname he earned when he was younger.

* He survived a tragic incident having to do with a serial murderer, and soon after, suffered 2 bouts of pneumonia and a floor collapse. Having lasted all four incidents with little-to-no side effects or lasting damages, people began to note his lucky demeanour and began to keep their distance.

* Good luck always attracts bad luck as they say.

* And he’s sure now that the statement is true. If he hadn’t been as ‘lucky’ as he was, he wouldn’t have ended up at a psychopaths’ house playing a gambling game with his life bet on the line.

* He hopes that his luck carries on through the days he has left in the manor—if only he could win, then maybe all his luck could turn to neutrality.

* Maybe he could finally be normal.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sundarika]

1/1 Hello! headcanon S/O makes good covers of songs and music videos(like those YouTube videos)? Swerve, as a lover of Earth(this is how it was mentioned in the comics) walks on the Internet and finds various covers performed by their human friend, watches and listens to them all and then runs to show Rewind.

[TF MTMTE] S/O Who Makes Song Covers

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* At first, Swerve was having a particularly slow day in the bar.

* He had just dealt with another one of Whirl’s shenanigans which accidentally blew up into a huge scuffle between Whirl and Skids, which got Chromedome and Rewind involved after Whirl stole their drinks in order to drench Skids in energon.

* The resident liaison, aka you, had watched from afar as everything turned to scrap between them and the whole area erupted into a bar fight.

* Swerve was embarrassed to say the least—the one person who ever seemed to pay attention to him on this damned ship, and they witnessed him unable to control his own patrons.

* He decided to close the bar early and retire off to his habsuite afterwards—better than sticking around.

* Turned on a datapad while sipping a cube of highgrade because Primus knows he deserves it.

* Began surfing through the internet and stumbled upon his favourite video streaming and uploading site: youtube.

* At first he scrolled through recommended cat videos, DIY’s and gaming streams, until he found something strangely out of place on the home page.

* He’d stumbled upon the music section and saw your face plastered to the front of a video image. Beneath it captioned “Born this way [Cover by s/o]” and featuring a plethora of other musicians and background singer mentions.

* He clicked on it, immediately entranced by the thought of you having a secret life or hobby, possibly whatever you did for a living before joining the LL crew.

* Absolutely astounded by the sound of your voice—he truly believed you were the incarnation of clarity based on the effortlessness of your rhythm and lack of lisps or vocal breaks.

* Swerve used to invest a bit in musicians back on Cybertron, he never owned a bar back then but understood that Cybertron’s versions of human ‘Harlems’ contained a lot of organized musical entertainment.

* When he opened a bar on the ship after finding the distillery with Skids, the first thing he thought of was music.

* Never found a decent singer cause everybody on the LL sucks.

* Immediately after finishing the first video, he clicked on your profile and continued scrolling, finding the oldest one on your account and beginning there.

* The post itself was 8 years old, which meant you had been in the industry of cover songs and albums for a decent time before you joined the LL on their adventures across space.

* He listened to every single one of them, with themes ranging from jazz and reggae, to rap and pop music from disney movies.

* Fell in love with your personality even more through your music; surely someone who sounds so beautiful has a beautiful heart as well!

* Immediately after finishing the last video, he ran to show the only other over-appreciator of media: Rewind.

* Rewind was astounded as well by your abilities, immediately began recording and downloading the recordings to a private database for future purposes.

* Both of them immediately called a bar meeting at like.... 3 am.

* Ultra Magnus (Minimus Ambus) arrived first and demanded to know why an emergency meeting was called.

* Rodimus and Chromedome arrived next because Roddy thought there’d be a fight, and Chromedome heard that Rewind sounded the emergency alert.

* As soon as everyone gathered, and Swerve stated it had something to do with their dear human liaison, everybody shut up.

* The room fell silent until Rewind began streaming the music to the bar speakers.

* Immediate awe from everyone in the room.

* This melodious voice belonged to s/o? Their little liaison? The one everybody used to ignore?

* Crushes and developing friendships all around the room and you hadn’t even arrived yet.

* The moment you stepped foot into the bar, everybody once again went quiet. When you asked why, an immediate response broke out.

* “You sing?!” and “I didn’t know your original function was a musician?” and “I didn’t know you had such a sweet voice!” rang out across the ship.

* You were evidently startled, and Swerve could tell—Rewind as well—and Swerve had to smash a clean glass against the counter to gain everyone’s attention again.

* “Let’s hear what our friend here has to say, shall we?”

* Everybody once again turned to face you.

* You explained that it was rather embarrassing they had stumbled upon an old ‘hobby’ of yours, but told them that you used to be a well-loved solo-singer back in the early days before the lost light.

* You never gained much fame beyond the internet media streams and sometimes group choreographs, but found a joy in music anyways, hoping to make your life long dream of finding fame and happiness out of singing come true.

* When you realized that such a thing was hard to achieve, especially in your national industry, you basically gave up on trying to achieve it, which is why the date of your last upload was about 2 years before you came to the crew.

* They listened intently, Swerve especially, and their expressions changed from astonishment to sadness.

* “So you.... don’t sing anymore?” came from a slightly downed Megatron—he thought there’d finally be someone to appreciate his poetry.

* You told him no, and the entire bar began to beg. About 100 bots shoved into a small bar, begging and pleading with you to continue your dream and make new music—some offering to teach you Cybertronian if it meant you could produce it in their language.

* The hesitancy in your voice was obvious, but you did eventually agree.

* The LL broke out into cheering, and Swerve reopened the bar for the night so that the others could party away. Ultra Magnus and some other tired bots slipped off down the halls to recharge again, but not before offering their congratulations (and bribes).

* You smiled slightly and exited the room, heading to the internal flight deck for some alone time.

* Swerve eventually made his way down after everyone had had their drinks, wanting to speak with you about the past.

* “Why’d ya’ give it up in the first place? Singing I mean.”

* “I don’t really know, I suppose because I realized that my dreams were unobtainable.”

* “Then maybe you’ll find that here on the Lost Light, there’s a lot more room for change.” he spoke to you.

* He didn’t know it that night, but you agreed with him. There was a lot that the world could offer, even more so now that you knew the universe was so vast.

* Maybe you went unappreciated on Earth, but you now have hundreds of bots ready to fight for a simple song from you.

* And who knows? Music videos would be 1000% cooler if you filmed them with giant robots out in space.

BONUS:

* Your voice alone singlehandedly turned Getaway back to the good side.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sundarika]

[Victor Grantz] General Headcanons

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* He's never been quite good with words, and really only speaks small amounts when he absolutely has to.

* For a long time everybody believed he was a mute, until he spoke up for himself after a group of noble bullies decided his silence was annoying and that they could talk behind his back without him doing anything about it.

* He was known sarcastically as the 'Great Pretender’ for awhile after the incident, people began to believe he stayed silent for attention.

* He never spoke out after the incident until the night of the fire.

* After gallantly saving a couple kids and a puppy from the fire, he earned a lot of respect from the people around his small town.

* Got into the postman business via an old friend, whose name has since been lost to time.

* He took the puppy he rescued home and named him Wick because of the fire incident.

* After receiving a letter from the manor, he felt appreciated for the first time in his life.

* His second letter was one sent by Eli, his third from Aesop, because they began replying to his own letters after receiving them in matches often.

* Aesop and Victor have a close friendship, even though Aesop admits he feels less of a connection than he does with the dead.

* They hang out and bake cookies together sometimes.

* Victor accidentally baked them on a morticians tray once.

* Ashy cookies.

* He fed one to Wick and felt bad.

* So now he bakes Wick specially made dog treats.

* Victor enjoys wrapping presents and sometimes dresses as Santa Claus on Christmas. Currently, it is his only other joy in the manor to give gifts.

* He is honestly the most thrill seeking out of all the survivors. We know boredom and excitement played a part in some other survivor stories, but Victors’ coming to the manor was purely out of the honesty that he’d be appreciated there.

* He hides his excitement really well in front of others.

* He looks like a BOY but he sounds like a MAN.

* When he first received his skin for Halloween, everybody thought he was the cute-looking kind of spooky.

* THEY WERE WRONG.

* When he started singing as part of the Halloween party ensemble, everybody else stopped.

* They DID NOT expect his face to be that pretty and his voice to be that hot.

* After that, he became so embarrassed that he promised not to sing anymore.

* He thought they were silent because his voice was awful.

* They thought that it should have been scratchy from misuse but the clearness of his voice could shatter an opera glass.

* Vera and Margaretha kept the information ingrained to their memory for future use.

* Through his time spent in the manor, surrounded by cool and mostly crazy people, he’s learned to experience a wide variety of emotions outside of the letters he used to deliver.

* Now he begins to wonder if he ever really needed those letters at all.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sundarika]

[Melly Plinius] General Headcanons

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* Melly has always been a kind and compassionate soul, and that oftentimes shows through her treatments of insects and other bug species, even spiders.

* Of course, honey bees and mayflies are her favourite, she's just oh so fascinated by how they live and work, especially when mayflies only live a day.

* She hides her face away from the rest of society, not because of any restrictions or laws, or even traditions, but because she's dealt with the area of entomology for so long, to be without a facial guard almost ensures that you'll be bitten or stung! It also seems as if it hides great secret, and nobody’s ever been able to make her remove it.

* She honestly just feels safer around with the mask on—more comfortable, as she feels that the mask has the ability to separate herself from the crazy world beyond it.

* Rumours are she's rather pretty, and her good heart makes up for any physical flaws.

* The net she has was a gift from her grandfather, someone as interested in insects as Melly herself is, and she's almost never without it.

* The only time Melly has ever cried in the manor was when Norton and Mike stole her net to play a prank on Victor, attempting to catch bugs so they could place a few caterpillars or otherwise under his bedsheets.

* She couldn't calm down until Naib and Martha forced them to return the net, and apologize to both her and Victor for being brats.

* Melly also nearly cried when she received the 'Sofia' skin—it was so beautiful that she could barely bring herself to wear it, after all, this was a death game.

* She had never really thought about what would happen after—or if—she could ever leave the manor. She's always believed that she'd one day grow up to own a honey farm, where she can practice her studies in peace, and take care of all the little creatures the rest of the world seems to despise.

* She loves marmalade and honeycomb, and enjoys having either or both on bread or tea cakes; a rather simple meal but efficient and available due to the manors less-than-satisfying kitchen ingredients.

* Nobody knows how her little hat keeps to her head, absolutely no one. Emily even watched her put it on after a check-up once, and was stumped for words when she didn't even watch her put a pin in it.

* Luca once called her 'Smelly Melly' as a joke.

* She stood behind a pallet and proceeded to watch him yeet off into the air on a rocket chair.

* She may seem docile but she will summon her army of well-trained bees, and they will cause pain on command.

* She enjoys stargazing sometimes, and only at night or in the garden can she truly relax, she's always on alert every other hour of the day, because she never knows when a good day's going to turn bad.

* She's protective of the other survivors in the manor, especially the more timid-looking in nature like herself, and though she seems unaffected by all the death and history in the manor at times, she's probably one of the only ones who's sympathetic to most of the hunters.

* Robbie and Yidhra's followers especially. They're mostly only children, and with Robbie's mysterious circumstances, and the followers having given up their very souls to obtain a better 'life'.... it's hard for her to attack them during games if she doesn't have to.

* All in all, Melly only hopes she can one day soon return home—and if not—that someone takes over in caring for her little bug pals.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[sundarika]

[Bloody Queen] General Headcanons

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* Mary is rather sensitive when it comes to sunlight—much like a vampire, but not a vampire.

* She consistently unties and reties her stitches every morning and night until they’re aligned perfectly.

* Doesn’t like acknowledging the fact that she had her head lobbed off, and she may just do the same to anyone who mentions it.

* So, she often covers the area up with some sort of overly-extravagant necklace or coat collar.

* For all her splendour, fancy parties and extravagant dresses were never really her forte, and she would much rather prefer wearing clothing easier to move in.

* Heavy clothing makes her slower moving during matches, and though she wants to kill in style, she can’t risk getting blood and gore on her Sunday best.

* She has a knack for telling people off, much like an annoyed mother or an angry grandma.

* She can’t cook very well, as in life she was always doted on by servants, she isn’t used to taking care of herself beyond the bare minimum.

* But she does play the piano.

* Mary was always a pink person—her closet is practically filled with red, blue, or purple clothing, but since pink is such an expensive dye her options of wear are limited in that department.

* Doesn’t stop her from putting in a request to the gamemaker and Miss Nightingale to provide her with a dyed dress, which resulted in ‘Lady Bella’ and her floral outfit.

* She’s on good terms with both Michiko and Ann, and makes decent conversation with survivors such as Aesop from time-to-time.

* Though not exactly keen on conversing with the opposite side of the manor, Aesop and Eli have surprisingly good fashion sense. Vera is too much of a stuck-up for Mary to actually talk to.

* She sometimes weaves at an old loom and spinning wheel she hides in the corner of her bedroom, and borrows thread from Violetta to create blankets and tapestry.

* Through weaving, she is reminded of a far simpler time—one where she was only a young woman who did what was required to survive.

* She always believed she would’ve come to a place like Oletus, had any such place existed when she were alive.

* A second shot at life would’ve been all she could ask for.

* A second shot at revenge too.

———————————————————————

✨Hope you enjoyed! ✨

[sundarika]

[Edgar Valden] Relationship Headcanons

———————————————————————

* When Edgar first came to the manor, you had already made yourself at home amongst the rest of the survivors for quite a few months.

* Being quite the newbie yourself in comparison to all the other players in the death game, you were tasked with getting to know the knew guy.

* ‘Getting to know’ him didn’t exactly work out well, because he was an asshole with an ego as large as his obsession with art.

* He met you at the front doors, and stood silently in the foyer as he stared you down with disinterest and something akin to disgust.

* After that, there was always a general hatred between the two.

* Edgar began to warm up to you after a couple months left him begging for somebodies attention.

* He stormed up to your room in the middle of the night and knocked so loudly on the doorway that Martha cocked a flare gun from next door in warning.

* He never did it again.

* He’s terrified of Martha.

* Afterwards, you let him visit you every-so-often as a sort of ‘bonding time’.

* It was really just him criticizing you when you attempted to copy his painting skills.

* And you criticized him about his poor attitude in return.

* Sass. Every conversation includes sass.

* After a couple weeks of the same routine you began to notice his snarky comments trailed off more to the flirtatious side.

* “The only reason Da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa was because he didn’t know a beauty like you already existed.”

* God, somebody take him out.

* Naib and Martha: “We’re on it.”

* After dealing with his advances for quite awhile, you began hinting at him to shut up and start acting on his words.

* The man really needed a change in ambitions and attitude, if his perfectionism and ‘difficulty’ in telling people off meant anything.

* So you attempted to get him into a hobby.

* Edgar is surprisingly good at cooking.

* But only fancy foods, and the manor doesn’t have very many high-end ingredients.

* He wouldn’t eat dinner for the first few days at the manor because the food looked too common for his tastes.

* “There wasn’t even parsley on the soup surface. NO PARSLEY? How atrocious!”

* Somebody get the man his spices.

* He made up a large private dinner for the two of you one night without your knowledge. Surprisingly, it was delicious.

* He begged that you never eat the manor food again, and that somehow he’d convince the gamemakers to let him purchase outside cooking materials so that his and your sanity and tastebuds could remain intact.

* You were fine with eating belladonna pie if it meant you wouldn’t have to go 3 days without sustenance while Edgar scrounged for foodstuffs.

* No more hobbies.

* To be honest, you probably fell in love with him for the food. His personality is shit, but his cooking isn’t.

* Oh, his artistic skills are relatively… decent too.

* And he probably fell in love with you because of your… we’ll go with intellect.

* Your altruistic means of surviving in the death game also meant you were good at surviving outside of it.

* You were a general adapter, and made good of any situations, even if they came hard at first.

* In a small world where everybody had to know everything to keep alive, adaptation couldn’t come hard.

* Edgar likes that you were a fast learner in that aspect, and you could keep up with a lot of his ranting and preferences without getting too angry.

* Let’s be honest, you probably just held it in.

* He’s actually a fairly sweet guy when you get to know him, and doesn’t really have any regards to gender or issues with with sexuality when it comes to dating people.

* His family was definitely conservative, as most were at the time, but it really shows in his principles and actions that he was born and raised to be near-perfection and the heir to a noble household.

* After so many years of dealing with such developments and influence, it all became rather boring and uninteresting to him.

* His art was the last thing he could indulge himself in.

* After coming to the manor and meeting you for the first time, his dull and blank-canvas of a life may have finally had a purpose.

* You were the paint to his pallet so-to-speak.

* At the end of the day, as you’re either cuddling by a fireplace, or falling asleep on each others shoulders after a match, you’re odd and seemingly dysfunctional relationship really works out.

* And you don’t understand just how much happiness that brings him.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨