#Cybernetic Perfection

[universalzones]

Sonic Egg Bosses Icons

13 Icons For Abyss Here

18 Icons For Akhlut Here

32 Icons For Axel Here

71 Icons For Cassia Here

62 Icons For Clove Here

18 Icons For Kukku Here

20 Icons For Maw Here

23 Icons For Mordred Hood Here

37 Icons For Nephthys Here

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Free To Use And Edit No Credit Needed

[technicallyclassyperfection]

Pāfekuto Burū

[vietbluecoeur]

“You oughta be addicted to shutting the fuck up, gambler.”

“You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid. ♡”

[ohfugecannada]

Fanfic/fancomic idea I just thought of while watching SpongeBob clips:

Semi-early on in Rocket and Groot knowing each-other/working together, Groot sees Rocket’s cybernetics for the first time. Maybe it’s a similar moment to when Quill first saw them in the prison scene in Vol.1, maybe it was during a particularly intense battle with a bounty and Rocket gets the back of his shirt torn up exposing his back but just yells at Groot to focus on beating the other guy etc.

Whatever the case, Groot sees Rocket’s cybernetics and, not yet fully understanding the concept of cyborgs or anything, tries asking Rocket about them later. But Rocket just keeps either trying to deflect and change the subject or just tells Groot to shut it and quit bugging him about it.

So Groot, having no context or idea of Rockets trauma and everything, starts thinking and filling in the blanks in his own way. And after putting together:

The metal things on rockets body

His habit of stealing peoples robotic prosthetics, batteries and other electronics

The fact Rocket hates taking baths and (seemingly) most liquids apart from alcohol

The fact Rocket never laughs at Groots jokes

And the fact he never shows any genuine emotion other than rage or cockiness

Groot comes to the Galaxy shattering realisation that Rocket is, in fact… A ROBOT.

Aside from the intital internal screaming he has about everything making so much more sense now, Groot does find it strange how mammalian Rocket looks. But then Groot figures, since they have previously caught robot bounties who tried (and failed) to pass themselves as organics by wearing artificial skin, Rocket’s probably doing the same thing.

And oh no, maybe that’s why he was so defensive before about those metal parts of him showing?? Maybe he’s been discriminated against for being a robot and is trying to pass himself off as an organic animal to protect himself? And/or he has a deep seeded internalised robot phobia???? And Groot trying to push him about it made it worse?!??!??

So Groot, after realising the “truth”, tries to be more supportive of rocket and him being a robot. He doesn’t directly confront Rocket or try to press him on it. Since he tried that before and fails and he’s figured out it’s a sensitive subject for rocket. But Groot does his research on robots and tries to figure out what make and model rocket is (with very few results) so he can better look after him incase he malfunctions or something, he makes sure to “borrow” extra batteries and oil canisters when ever they’re at a place with electronics because he figures that’s what he really uses for sustenance instead of all the burgers and junk food he eats in front of Groot for (what he thinks is) the sake of appearance, tries to stop him from getting wet whenever it rains or they visit a mostly water-covered planet, calls Rocket out if/whenever he makes crude comments about other robots because (internally) Groot draws the line at Rocket taking his own issues about being a robot out on his fellow robots etc etc. All because Groot doesn’t care what Rocket is and just wants his best friend to be happy and feel safe and accepted as he is. As well as for him to trust Groot enough to come out in his own time when he feels ready.

Meanwhile Rocket is just. Completely baffled by Groot acting so weird around him all the sudden and doing all this. And no idea Groot thinks he’s a robot because of his cybernetics. Eventually culminating when things escalate out of hand and Groot cutting to the chase, gently telling rocket he knows he’s a robot and that he doesn’t have to be afraid of hiding it anymore because Groot still cares about him no matter what.

…And rocket, slightly less gently, telling Groot that goD FLARKIN DAMNIT GROOT!!! IM NOT A GODDAMN ROBOT YOU STUPID MOLDY OVERGROWN PEICE OF CRAP TWIG!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Basically, it’s the Krab Borg episode of SpongeBob if SpongeBob tried being a supportive robot ally to Mr.Krabs instead of jumping him in his office with Squidward.

[il3x]

pr0_d1gy hours...

I've headcanoned Long Hair Baby Pr0 for ages now, my evidence being 1. you think the Circle were giving him haircuts? 2. you think the Circle were giving him access to sharp objects? and 3. cutting one's hair is a quick and easy way to disguise oneself, so he likely did that, but his hair wasn't short short at the start of the campaign.

picrew by @wervty! character from the podcast reboot.exe :) and loosely inspired by @rainydayscribbling's Pr0 design (i stole the idea of giving him earrings).

[jbt7493]

often the reaction i feel to music i really like is wanting to scream the lyrics as hard as physically possible while smashing my hands into the nearest object but this is both deleterious to my health as well as I feel often doing a disservice to the song i like enough to have this urge because my screaming will not be correct to the pitch and tempo of the vocals and my sense of rhythm with smashing my body into nearby surfaces doesnt appropriately represent the tempo of the bassline or drums nor am I particularly good at even using multiple fingers to tap representing the different notes being performed normally let alone when trying to put power behind them

[wraithsoutlaws]

🩹for Dagger and DumDum

🩹 - Who administers first aid to their incredibly reluctant partner?

More often than not it's Dum Dum helping Dagger, but they both tend to be a little reluctant when it comes to first aid. Dum Dum is a little more durable so he typically needs it less, and Dagger is used to hand stitching his own wounds and throwing on a dirty bandage (at best) before calling it good and going on like business as usual. He hates vulnerability and it's its own battle for him to be comfortable enough to let someone else even come close to a wound or injury. And he’ll be complaining about it the whole time, even if there’s a deep level of love and appreciation there.

OTP emoji asks

[machabre]

non organic\organic relationship my beloved. Bryan forgetting Sergei needs to sleep/drink/eat etc. on a long trip or something

[cyberpawn]

vale! i want to hear about vale's best friend. the one person in vale's life they can rely on. it can be someone's character or someone you know we have yet to meet, but who is vale's PERSON?

Jackie was Vale's closest friend. They were two peas in a pod, both forces of nature when it came to their strength and speed, Jackie was able to knock folks flat while Vale could rush in and steal whatever it was they were after. When it came to personal matters, their doors were both always open, finding the safety of a true friendship with each other. Jackie never made Vale feel weird for their needs, Vale never made Jackie feel judged, they both took on plenty of gigs together. They were going to be legends together, y'know!

But life has a funny way of throwing wrenches in even the most sincere plans, and now Vale would say that Misty is their closest friend! She's introduced them to different perspectives on life, really made them wiser and made them a nicer person to themself. Misty also taught them how to read tarot cards, and they think that's cool as fuck! Vale helps out in Misty's spiritual supply shop every now and then too!

[cthulhucultrevivalunit]

Reality.exe

Reality.exe by Batzrov

The man woke up and felt something was off. He couldn't quite place it, but the world seemed… He got out of the bed and walked to the kitchen.

As he reached for the coffee pot, his hand passed through it. He tried again, but his fingers slipped through the solid object as if it were mist.

Panic… he looked d0wn @ h1s b0dy. Pixelated chunks… missing… like… like… a corrupted image file. Tries to scream… no sound…

Walls… flickering…

Reality glitching in and out of existence.

C0de scr0ll1ng across the ceiling…

Sudd3nly, everything froze.

A dialogue box:

“ERROR: Hu^an.exe has encountered a fatal exception. Reboot universe? Y/N”

With trembling fingers, he reached out to make his choice, knowing that either option would [Redacted]

[END OF FILE]

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[thesecondhandwoman]

MORNING AFTER

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: You and Sevika had another fling-filled night, but this time both of you decided to stay, waking up to one another, realizing that it was much nicer than waking up alone.

The morning light filtered through the tattered curtains of Sevika’s small apartment, painting the room in golden hues. The air carried a slight chill, but the warmth radiating from the body next to you was enough to keep you from shivering. You stretched lazily, muscles sore but pleasantly so, a satisfied smile curling on your lips as memories of last night flooded back.

You turned your head to find Sevika still asleep beside you, her broad shoulders rising and falling with each steady breath. The blanket was pushed down to her waist, revealing the scars and tattoos that decorated her upper body. In the soft light of morning, her sharp features were relaxed, her usually furrowed brow smooth, and her lips slightly parted. Even in sleep, she exuded a kind of raw, magnetic power that made it hard to look away.

Your gaze lingered on her for a moment before a wave of shyness hit. It wasn’t every day you woke up beside someone like Sevika—formidable, intimidating, and yet somehow, so tender when it came to you. The memory of her rough hands on your body, her lips trailing fire along your skin, sent a pleasant shiver through you.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, trying not to wake her. Your legs wobbled slightly as you stood, a testament to just how thorough Sevika had been. You grabbed the nearest piece of clothing—one of her oversized shirts—and slipped it on. It hung loosely on your smaller frame, the scent of leather and something distinctly her surrounding you.

The kitchen was barely more than a corner of the room, but you managed to scavenge some coffee grounds and get the old percolator working. As it bubbled away, you leaned against the counter, staring out the small window. Zaun was already alive, the sounds of machinery and distant shouting filtering up from the streets below.

“Stealing my clothes already, huh?”

The low, gravelly voice startled you, and you turned to find Sevika leaning against the doorway, her hair mussed from sleep and her cybernetic arm gleaming faintly in the morning light. She had thrown on a pair of loose pants but hadn’t bothered with a shirt, the lines of her torso drawing your attention despite your best efforts to stay composed.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind,” you said, trying for nonchalance but failing miserably as a blush crept up your cheeks.

She smirked, the expression lazy but dangerous, as if she knew exactly what you were thinking. “I don’t. It looks better on you anyway.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Turning back to the coffee, you poured two mugs and handed one to her. She took it with her flesh hand, the metal of her prosthetic brushing against your fingers. The sensation was oddly comforting, familiar after last night.

Sevika took a sip, her sharp eyes never leaving you over the rim of the mug. “So,” she began, her voice still rough from sleep, “was last night… acceptable?”

You almost choked on your coffee. “Acceptable?” you repeated, laughing. “Is that your way of fishing for compliments?”

“Just trying to gauge my performance,” she said with a teasing smirk, though there was a flicker of something genuine in her gaze—uncertainty, maybe? It was rare to see Sevika vulnerable, even in the smallest ways.

You set your mug down and closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around her waist. “If I rated it anything less than perfect, I think my legs would file a formal complaint,” you murmured, resting your head against her chest.

She chuckled, the sound rumbling through her like a purr. Her metal arm came to rest on the small of your back while her flesh hand gently cupped your chin, tilting your face up to meet her eyes. “Good,” she said softly, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’d hate to think I left you… unsatisfied.”

Her lips captured yours in a slow, languid kiss, the kind that made you forget about everything else. When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her expression softer than you’d ever seen it.

“You know,” she said after a moment, “I don’t usually do this… the whole morning after thing.”

You smiled. “I figured. But I’m glad you’re making an exception.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Me too.”

The rest of the morning passed in a comfortable haze. You ate a simple breakfast together, Sevika grumbling about the lack of decent food in her apartment while you teased her about her poor culinary skills. For a moment, it was easy to forget the harshness of the world outside, the constant dangers and betrayals that came with living in Zaun.

But as you sat there, watching Sevika’s rare smile as she listened to you ramble about nothing in particular, you realized something. Last night had been incredible, but this—this quiet, intimate moment—felt just as important. Maybe even more so.

And judging by the way Sevika reached across the table to take your hand, her fingers lacing with yours, you had a feeling she felt the same.

Hey dolls, I know this a bit smaller than my normal fanfic, but I thought it would be nice to add another fluffy write up for you guys! Hope y’all enjoyed it, and I’m always up for recommendations/requests.

[thehomophobe]

How To Fluster Them 😳

A Guide To See How To Fluster Your Cybernetic Sweetheart. These guides are in no particular order so choose whichever you like.

Freddy 🐻: 

1. Surprise gifts: Gifts from fans are always appreciated; they put their heart into it when crafting little crochet plushies or keychains or drawings of him. But when you create something; even if it's a crappy looking drawing, Freddy would blush at the sight. Notice how it says surprise gifts, so you must catch the android completely off guard when you gift him. Those are the perfect fluster moments.

2. Second-Hand Embarrassment: Freddy doesn't know too much about humans and human behavior despite being an A.I. But even with that said, he still learning social cues and human nature so don't chastise him over it. However, if you notify him about anything that seemed a little offputting, Freddy would become flustered over it. A simple, yet quiet, apology may present a sense of childlike guilt like a five-year-old apology for saying something out of pocket, but inside he is a little anxious. Try to calm him down by holding his hand or his shoulder and rub it affectionately.

 Chica 🐔:

1. Catch Her (In the act of doing anything): Caught her eating out of your trash again? Or maybe wearing your clothes? Perhaps sleeping with one of your plushies? Whatever silly little thing she did, if you catch her off guard or mention it while casually cuddling together, that'll surely ruffle her feathers...

Er...metaphorically...

2. Surprise Gifts: Just like Freddy, if you surprise her with a gift, you'll definitely fluster her. Honestly, she'll be easier fluster with a gift than Freddy. Recommend surprising her with food from a restaurant or a bistro that she always wanted to go to.

Monty 🐊:

1. Flirting (Back): He flirts with you on a daily basis, to the point where you can't tell when he is or isn't flirting. But once you respond back--twice as hard---you won him over. He'll be a blushing mess, god damn where'd you get that from? (Him obviously)

2. Physical Affection: Run your fingertips across any part of his body, Under his chin, up his arms, across his chest. He's so down bad for you. A hum facsimile to a purr would emitted from him. But if you wanted maximum domesticity, crawl into his lap and kiss him anywhere. We recommend anywhere on the face to get the best fluster.

Roxy 🐺:

1. Words of Affirmation/Genuine Compliments: Compliments are key; give her one, but make it candid and sincere. She's gonna be thinking about what you said all day. All week depending on what you said. We recommend not making any sexual compliments though, they won't hit as hard as heartfelt ones.

2. Physical Affection: Massage her. You'll get a blush from her, even if you can't particularity see it. Comb through her hair, no please do it. We recommend that hair-grooming can result in flustring. Only do this for about 10-30 seconds, be prepared for her snapping at you to back off.

Sun ☀:

1. Words of Affirmation/Genuine Compliments: While not as starved for plaudits as Roxanne, be complimented on his talents would definitely result in flustering. Would recommend compliments on: acrobatics, artistic ability/creativity, singing voice, appearance (i.e. calling him handsome, cute and/or adorable), how good he is with small children. These all resulted in 100% flusteredness.

2. Physical Affection: Holding hands, brushing shoulders, bumping hips, any sense of gentle touches trigger blush for the android. An small interview with Sun noted that you make him feel "all sparking and buzzing on the inside" similar to freshly lit fireworks. Would recommend cradling his face for ultimate fluster and completely domesticity.

Moon 🌑: 

1. Words of Affirmation/Genuine Compliments: Mainly the same as his brother, yet somewhat easier to fluster as many of our research has resulted in. It appears complimenting his looks and singing voice result in 92% flusteredness. The 8% being snootiness/agitation. A smaller interview with the android had stated you give him the butterflies in his stomach when this is done. We highly recommend it.

2. Physical Affection: Once again like his brother, holding hands, cuddles, and cradling his face all result in blushing. You make him feel weak. In a good way. In a staticky, heart melting way. Just hold him close like how he holds you close. If he tries to look away keep your eye contact, tell him his eyes are beautiful and refocus his vision.

[burntoutangel]

It’s hard being an anarchist because business women are soooo hot. Imagine a cyberpunk ceo lady getting you on some minor crimes, maybe you fell into a hacking league, normally you’d get off with some community service and the corpos eye on you for the rest of your life, but when she sees the camera footage of you all scared and trembling in the police station, cuffed to the bars and trying to look as small as possible she just can’t help it, a few “donations” to the station gets you marked as a dangerous cyber terrorist, your identity blasted on every news network she can so Everyone knows who you are. The public quietly cheers as it’s announced that you���ve been permanently moved to an offshore maximum security facility, none the wiser that really you’re just an idiot at the worst place and time, unaware that really you were shipped to her personal compound for modification. Waking up with new limbs and eyes and ears under her control as she explains in no uncertain terms that this is your life now. Even if you escaped, regained control of your cybernetics and got outside, everyone knows you as a dangerous person, no one would shelter a danger to society like you. So really it’s for the best that you stay here, stay as her pet forever.

Forcing your limbs to stand up, body aching from the countless surgeries she’s had you go through in a short time to make you a perfect toy, marching you to her office to sit under her desk and service her as your first day in the rest of your existence. Unbeknownst to you adjusting the settings in your shiny new brain chip to flood your body with endorphins and lust, mocking you constantly for how wet you’ve gotten from her fucking you and abusing you, until eventually you won’t even know what’s her influence and what’s your own broken brain ❤️ you know, or something

Or hey maybe she just takes your body. Leaves your mind in the background to scream and silently beg as your body is puppeted around as her secretary and fuckdoll for the rest of your life. If you’re good she’ll give you vocal control back for a few minutes so you can beg for death or mercy or oblivion or anything as she fucks deeper into you. She doesn’t care about your opinion at all, but the wails of a toy that’s losing its sanity always gets her right to that edge, panting as she goes deeper, each scream of humiliation from your raw throat pushing her to the edge until finally she cums inside, giving you just enough time to understand what she’s done and scream in misery and humiliation before she shuts off your voice again <3

[justanothermemestrider]

"That's My Girl" - Jago Sevetarion x F! Reader

Ask thee and ye shall receive. Here's a fic based on the sparring headcanon from my Sevetar Assorted Headcanons. The sypnosis: Sev takes you down to the training mat to help you train some sword craft, and things get... spicy

Hope yall ready for some heresy.

CW: NSFW, MDNI

Apologies for grammar and spelling mistakes. Please enjoy!

"I really don't see why this is necessary."

"Really?" Jago asks. "Sweetheart, have you seen what the people on this ship are like?"

"Well yeah, sure," you say. "But I've got you. And if you're not around, Talos and Cyrion always look out for me."

Jago clicks his tongue, twirling the wooden swords he's currently holding in both hands as he considers your words. "That is true," he admits. "But even then, there is always the chance- no matter how small- that you may be caught out alone on this ship." He offers you one of the swords with a smile. "As such, you need to prepared."

You give him a long, unamused look, eyes shifting between his proferred wooden sword and wry, lopsided smile. The skin of his face is a mess of scars and callouses, but underneath all of that is a strong, almost handsome visage with broad cheek bones and a square jaw. His hair is slicked back save for a handful of thin bangs that tumble over his forehead to frame his eyes and nose. Jago's smile broadens into a grin. "Come on, little bird," he says. "If not for you, then for me?"

You let out a sigh. Without a word, you take the sword from his hand.

"Atta girl," Jago chuckles. He steps away from you, then surprises you by sheathing his sword. His grin suddenly turns feral. Before you can ask, he unclasps the front of his tunic and lets it drop to the floor. His torso, like his face, is ravished by scars, though these are far larger and more vicious looking. Bolter holes, chain blade slashes, stab wounds and burn marks; Jago wears the marks of all of these and even more. Black neural ports run down his shoulders and chest, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. But, just like his face, his scars and cybernetics do little to detract from the beauty of the body beneath them. You can't help but take a moment to drink in the sight of him; the twistedly gorgeous demi-god you call lover and protector. At your staring, Jago chuckles. "You may remain robed if you wish," he says. "But among Astartes, it is tradition to spar as... unencumbered as possible."

"Oh really?" you ask, clearly unconvinced.

Jago laughs again. "Eyes up, little bird," he orders. "Raise your blade. We begin now."

Unable to keep the grin off your face, you does as he commands.

"You remember what I've taught you?" he asks.

You give your sword a cursory twirl. "Of course I do." As if to emphasise the point, you hold it out in front of you in a defensive stance.

Jago gives you a satisfied smirk. "Guess we'll find out soon enough, won't we?" With that, the Night Lord lunges.

You slip to the side, parrying with your sword. The wooden blades crack against each other like bone, and the force of the impact sends painful vibrations rocketing up your arms. Grunting, you take several, darting steps back, but Jago refuses to give you any such breathing room. Several more time, your training blades clash. You know Jago is holding back; he has to, for if he didn't, his first strike would've likely snapped your arms in half. But even with his abilities actively reduced from demi-god levels, he's still faster and stronger than any baseline human could dream of being. Already, your breathing hard. Sweat pouring down your brow as your heart pounds relentlessly. Jago, on the other hand, has barely broken a sweat.

"Don't be shy, little bird," he says the next time the pair of you disengage. "You can't defend forever."

Between heavy breathes, you scowl at him. "Easy for you to say, Son of The Night Haunter, you."

Jago flashes that wry, crooked smile of his from the other side of the training mat. "No warrior is perfect," he says. "Even Astartes have certain aspects that can be exploited."

"Such as?"

"Just look at me, sweetheart. Two metres tall and half a tonne in weight, all of that being bloated muscle and reinforced bone." Jago holds his arms out wide. "What does that make me?"

"I don't know," you huff. "Strong?"

"Nope," says Jago

"Unbeatable?"

"Hah! I wish."

"Sexy?"

Jago laughs. "You flatter me, little bird. But no. Not the answer I am looking for."

"What then?"

The night lord sighs in mock exasperation. "It make me big," he says. "It makes me heavy. And no matter how fast or strong I am, it makes me very much at the mercy of physics and biomechanics. But you-" he points at you with his sword. "-my love, you are not so much. You are lighter. Your body, more flexible and maneuverable. Therefore, such natural laws are far more lenient on you than I. You understand?"

After taking a moment to think, you believe that you do. You tell Jago as much.

"I knew you would." Lowering his sword, Jago bares his teeth in a grin. "Now. Prove it to me."

Raising your sword, you approach him at a slink. Stepping on the balls of your feet, wooden blade out and pointed at his chest. Jago flurries his own weapon. Ripples of tension feather through the muscles of his chest and abdomen. He holds his sword low, clearly trusting himself to be fast enough to raise it should you choose to attack. But it is that very reflex that you intend to exploit.

With the technique of a fencer, you thrust at Jago's throat. Just as you'd guessed, he brings his sword up and around to block. But the moment you see his arm move, your strike turns into a feint. Ducking underneath his arm, you lock your blade around his shoulder and launch a savage kick into his knee. In the same moment, you wrench hard with your arms, turning your wooden sword into a lever over which you toss Jago to the ground. Of course, such a throw would never work in a true one-on-one fight with an Astartes. But against another baseline? Absolutely, it would. And, since he is currently moonlighting as such, Jago lets you take him down. The mat shakes as his body hits the ground. Before he can move to get up, you leap on top of him. Straddling his waist and bracing the edge of your mock sword against his throat. Your arms tremble from exertion, lungs burning as you breath hard and fast through your mouth. But as exhausted as you are there's a smile on your face. When Jago locks eyes with you, it only grows broader.

"That's my girl," he says, his adam's apple bobbing against your blade as he speaks.

In spite of yourself, his praise makes you giggle. "Does that mean I win?" you ask.

"Almost," Jago says. "But you've forgotten one very important thing."

You raise an eyebrow. "That being?"

Between your legs, you feel the rise and fall of his belly as he breathes in and out. You also feel him bending his knees and planting his feet on the floor. "When your opponent is so much larger than you..." Jago trails off. Then, quick as a snake, he grabs your sword with one hand and seizes your arm in the other. Bridging his hips, he throws you off him, sending you sprawling onto the mat. You yelp in surprise as Jago reverses your mount and straddles your hips. His weight is immense; your pelvis feels like it's being crushed beneath an anvil, while your legs and hips are completely and utterly pinned. Jago leans over you, grabbing your sword hand by the wrist while bracing his own sword hand on the floor right beside your ear. Lips peeling back into a predatory smile, he finishes his earlier warning. "...You must never take them to the ground."

Any outward observer would expect you be terrified, but in truth, you only feel flustered. Even after all this time, being this close to him- face millimetres from yours, naked, muscular body pressing against your own- still has your stomach winding itself into knots. And from the bulging hardness you can feel pressing against your lower belly, Jago is feeling the same way.

"This had nothing to do with training me, did it?" you whisper.

"Of course it did," Jago replies. "Your safety is the single most important thing to me. You know that."

"Fine. But it wasn't the only reason you brought me here, was it?"

For the briefiest of moments, Jago's smile turns sheepish. "Alright. You may have me there." Leaning closer still, he touches his forehead to yours. "You know how much I love a woman who can kick my ass."

You reply by kissing him. Tilting your head back so as to give you access to his lips, then locking them within yours with rough and enboldened hunger. Jago immediately returns it in kind. He drops his sword and releases your wrist, scooping one hand up underneath your waist while gripping you jaw with the other. Like pieces of a puzzle, your bodies fall into place around each other. Your legs wrapping tight around Jago's waist as he pulls you closer still. The heat between your legs presses the hardness between his, and even through the fabric of your clothes, the friction is enough to make you whine. The sound elicits a growl from Jago. You feel the hand at your jaw release, then slide down your front until it reaches the waistband of your trousers. He drags them off you, followed by your underwear. You gasp when the cold air kisses your exposed sex. But quickly, the sound devolves into a moan as Jago presses his fingers into your clit. Electricity bolts through your body. The heat in your core swells into an aching throb. You feel yourself growing wetter, hotter, more desperate and breathless. You claw your fingernails into Jago's back and let out another pleading moan.

"Jago..."

"I know, sweetheart," he rumbles. "But I've gotta slick you up first; don't want to hurt you."

You reply by bringing your hands up to his shoulder blades and digging your fingers into the neural ports embedded in the muscles there.

An involuntary shudder rips through Jago's entire body. His limbs buckle, sending him sprawling flat against your front. The sound that falls from his lips can only be described as a whimper.

"Oh, I see," he growls once he recovers. "And here I was thinking you liked me best when I was nice."

"Most of the time," you answer. "But not today."

Jago bares his teeth in a smile that's both affectionate and utterly lusting. "As you wish, little bird. But don't say I didn't warn you."

You open your mouth to reply, but before the words can reach your voice, Jago locks his hand around your throat. He unclasps his breeches, finally freeing his hard, aching cock. He lines his hips with up with yours, and with a single, savage thrust, drives himself all the way inside of you.

A cry bursts from your lips. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate his length, but even then, the fit is impossibly tight. Jago moans into your ear. The hand around your throat tightens. Without skipping a beat, he starts moving. Thrusting his hips hard, filling you up, pinning your clit against his public bone and rubbing it to the point of pain. Sparks and black spots burst within your vision. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every one of your exhales is a whimper or a moan. Ecstasy doesn't come close to describing this feeling. This raw and primal pleasure that's got your every nerve in a chokehold. Meanwhile, Jago growls and snarls like a beast in rut. His breathing is loud and laboured, his every muscle bulging against his sweat-slick skin. The hand he hasn't got around your neck is pressed hard into your lower belly, forcing his cock deeper and deeper still.

The coil in your belly reaches critical mass. You can feel your orgasm coming, just on the horizon, but not quite there yet. There's no way in hell you could string together a sentence, so instead, you say his name. Once again finding Jago's shoulderblades with your fingers and clawing them into his neural ports.

"Jago... Jago..."

Jago's body shudders again, and a long, almost pained whine interrupts his snarling growls. On his next thrust, he rears up onto his knees, scooping up your leg with one hand and throwing it over his shoulder. The sparks in your eyes become stars. The coil in your belly becomes agonisingly tight. Your spine arches until it's not longer touching the ground and you let out another, desperate cry.

It's then that Jago decides to say something. The words are whispered in your ear, barely comprehensible amidst his growls and moans. But they're there. And they are what finally send you over the edge.

"That's my girl."

Orgasm grips you like a lightning strike. You throw your head back as a scream of ecstasy erupts from your throat. Every muscle in your body clenches and your walls squeeze Jago so tight it makes his voice crack. His rhythm suddenly falters. He releases your throat to claw his hand into the floor. With a throat-tearing roar, Jago finally hits his release, burying his face into your shoulder and pumping you full of his hot, thick seed. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you entangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as you both ride out your orgasms.

When yours finally fades, you collapse against the floor. You still have the energy to gasp at the feel of Jago pulling out, but aside from that, you're completely and utterly spent. Means when Jago rolls you onto your side and drags you into his body, you simply let him. Both of his hearts are beating hard; you can feel their twin pulses pounding against your ear. He doesn't simply hold you, either, but rather he's actively pulling you close. Pressing you hard against his chest and wrapping his arms around you tight as if he were trying to shelter you or keep you from being dragged away. His grip is crushing. His skin and hair both slick with sweat. Gently, you reach a hand up to his face and brush your fingers against his cheek. "Careful," you says softly. "Squeeze me any tighter and you might just break something."

You hear his breath hitch. Slowly, the pressure around your waist and shoulders diminishes. "Sorry," Jago mutters. The extra gravel in his voice confirms what you'd suspected from his pulse, that he's still coming down from his high.

Tilting your head up a little, you press your lips to his collarbone, then nuzzle your face into his chest. "It's okay. I forgive you. This time, at least."

Jago smirks, but says nothing. After a handful of quiet moments, you hear his heart rates finally begin to settle. His breathing deepens, then levels out and the residual tension in his body releases.

You choose that moment to caress his scarred cheek again. "I love you," you whisper.

His chest vibrates against your ear as he chuckles softly. "By the Warp. I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing that."

"Do you doubt me?" you ask playfully.

"What? No! Of course not."

"You do not feel the same, then?"

That actually makes him growl. "Of course I do." The grip around your waist and shoulders tightens. "You know that."

You reassure him with another kiss to his collar bone. "So, why, then?"

"Why?" Another rumbling laugh. "Sweetheart. Look at me. Recall who I am and what I've done."

Retracting your hand, you start tracing one of the dozens of scars running down his chest with your finger. "I see Jago Sevetarion," you say. "The man who cares for me and protects me." You let your head fall against him, eyes slipping shut. "I see the man I love."

Your earnestness seems to take him by surprise, for he does not reply nor react right away. He doesn't seem to know how to. All he can think to do is pull you closer still and bury his face into the crook of your neck.

Sorry if I've missed you. If I have or you wanna be added, please let me know :)

Taglist: @yanagikou @nereidof40k @yurihasurunbara @beckyninja @moodymisty @wolf-feathers12 @justfreakynothingelse @egrets-not-regrets

[nahoney22]

Me again! Please can I request some HC’s with the bad batch and how they react to reader (gn or female) accidentally crawling into the boys bunk at night 😂

Accidental Sleeping Arrangements

All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How the boys react to you accidentally crawling into their bunk at night.

warnings: Fluff, comfort, cuddles, some moody boys, gender neutral reader. Can be read as romantic or platonic.

Echo 💤

The first time:

As you slid into his bunk accidentally that evening, he was thoroughly bewildered. He had jolted awake and sat upright, observing your exhausted form snuggling against him, eyelids heavy with fatigue.

With tactful gentleness, he roused you from your slumber, delicately shaking you to bring you back to awareness. "Hey, um, you're in my bunk, trooper."

Your eyes flickered open, adjusting to the dim light, and a muttered curse escaped your lips as you retreated, cheeks warming with embarrassment. "Sorry, Echo," you apologized, slipping out of his bunk. "I must be completely drained," you sheepishly confessed.

"It's alright. I just didn't want to startle you by waking up to my face," he commented. You glance at him with a furrow forming on your brow before you shook your head.

"I doubt I'd be bothered by that..." your words trailed off, potentially carrying unintended flirtation. Echo's eyes widened slightly, his hand instinctively moving to the back of his neck, a clear sign of slight shyness at your words.

"Anyway," you say abruptly, spinning on your heel. "Sorry about that."

Echo simply nodded, silently observing as you retreated to your own bunk, leaving him with a sudden chill in the air, now yearning for the warmth you briefly brought beside him.

The second time:

With a tired yawn, Echo wearily approaches his bunk a few nights later, only to halt in surprise at the sight of someone curled up inside. Upon closer inspection, he realises it's you again, presenting him with a slight dilemma.

Despite his weariness, Echo knows he needs rest, and while your bunk is an option, his own provides the perfect setup for his cybernetics, ensuring he's at his best for the next day's duties.

Letting out a small sigh, hoping you wouldn't mind, he settles on the edge of his bunk and gently wakes you. "Hey, you're in my bunk again," he murmurs softly.

You stir, meeting his gaze before cringing slightly. "Again? I'm so sorry," you begin to rise, but his hand on your shoulder stops you.

"You can stay, but I'd also like to get some sleep... if you, uh, catch my meaning," he hints with a faint smile, hoping you understand.

"Oh," you blush, considering for a moment. "Well, I hope you don't mind sharing."

"Not at all," he reassures, his tone gentle as you make space. He lies beside you, and before long, you drift back to sleep. Echo finds solace in the rhythm of your soft snores, gradually succumbing to sleep himself... though waking up to find you both cuddling is a surprise he hadn't anticipated, yet one he welcomes warmly.

Hunter 💤

The first time:

When Hunter awoke to find you crawling into his bunk, confusion gripped him. Instantly alert, his hands tensed, ready to confront any potential intruder, but his apprehension melted away as he recognised you.

He lay there in silence, contemplating his next move.

While a part of him felt inclined to let you sleep, considering your recent exhaustion, he couldn't shake the concern of startling you upon awakening to find him beside you.

After ensuring you were deeply asleep, he carefully extricated himself from the occupied bunk, making sure not to disturb you.

Once free, he couldn't suppress a soft chuckle as he observed you, peacefully snuggled into his pillow, emitting gentle snores. “Sleep well.” He whispered to you before leaving you to rest.

He made a mental note to address the situation in the morning, but perhaps it’s better left unsaid since you’ll know your error when you woke up.

The second time:

As you woke up to find yourself in Hunter's bunk, mortification swept over you. Yet, when you encountered Hunter in the cockpit, he didn't mention a word about it, instead offering you a drink of caf.

A small part of you entertained the idea that perhaps he was unaware of the nighttime intrusion. However, your suspicions were confirmed a few nights later.

Fatigued and not paying attention to your surroundings, you headed towards what you thought was your bunk and climbed inside, only to be surprised by the presence of another person. "Hunter, what're you doing?" you blurt out, eyes widening in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same question," he chuckles, adjusting his position and turning to face you. "This is my bunk."

Blinking in realisation, you glance around, confirming his assertion. "Oh," you laugh sheepishly, "I thought this was mine."

His smile is gentle, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "You're more than welcome to stay," he offers casually, though he soon realizes the potential implications of his words. "If you want to, that is."

A part of you knows you should return to your own bunk, yet there's an inexplicable pull keeping you there. "Well, I'm all comfy now..." you hint with a small smile.

He nods, turning his gaze away and closing his eyes. "Me too. Sleep well."

It took you a moment to fall asleep but just like how Hunter didn’t tell you that you had slept in his bunk first initially, you won’t tell him how he pulls you into his body as he slept and held you close throughout the night. Not that you seemed to mind.

Wrecker 💤

The first time:

"Wrecker, you scared me! What are you doing in my bunk?" you exclaimed, startled by the unexpected intrusion.

As you thought you were settling into your bunk for the night, using your hands to navigate through the darkness, you accidentally crawled onto something large and hard.

Assuming it was just your sheets bunched up, you attempted to smooth it out, only to be met with a small yelp that made your heart skip a beat.

"Huh?" Wrecker groggily emerged from his sleep cocoon, rubbing his eyes. "This is my bunk, isn't it?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's mine," you asserted, but as Wrecker shifted in the bunk and reached under the blanket, he pulled out his beloved Lula.

"Oh. Maybe not then." You felt pretty embarrassed by your mistake, but Wrecker didn't seem to mind at all.

"It's alright, thought I was going to get an extra cuddle buddy for a second there!" he chuckled heartily, waving Lula in your face. His laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of being Wrecker's "cuddle buddy," though you weren't entirely sure if he was joking.

Deciding not to dwell on it further and eager to avoid keeping Wrecker awake any longer, you offered a meek apology before retreating to your actual bunk. As you settled in, you couldn't shake the image of Wrecker's playful grin from your mind.

The second time:

Wrecker stared down at his bunk, finding it already occupied with not much room left for him. You were snoozing away, oblivious to his dilemma. Wrecker knew he could be a bit of a grouch without his sleep, so he decided to gently prod you awake.

"Hey," he nudged you, rousing you from your slumber. "Is this you asking to be my cuddle buddy?"

You stirred awake, blinking in confusion as you glanced at him. It was then that you noticed Lula on the pillow next to your head. "Oh shoot, sorry Wrecker," you sighed groggily, just wanting to fall back asleep into the warmth of his bunk.

"It's alrigh’," he chuckled softly, his deep voice filling the room with warmth. "But uh... I kinda need to sleep."

"Then come cuddle next to me," the words slipped out before you realized what you were saying, but you didn't want to take them back either. The thought of Wrecker's warmth beside you was oddly comforting.

Wrecker was surprised for a moment, his eyes widening slightly, before a soft smile spread across his face. Without hesitation, he slung his armor off and crawled into the space beside you. "Are ya sure about this?"

"Mhm," you replied sleepily, your arms spreading over his chest as you nestled into him like a log warming a fire. "You're warm."

Wrecker smiled to himself, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he closed his eyes, feeling your steady breathing against his chest.

Tech 💤

The first time:

Sleep was not a common occurrence for Tech, so when he made the rare decision to nestle down for the night, he wasn't too perturbed to find you asleep in his allocated spot.

He paused for a moment, considering whether to wake you, but recalling your exhausted state earlier, he reasoned that you wouldn't have intentionally taken his bunk.

Instead, he quietly observed the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, noting the serenity that graced your features, before silently retreating back to the cockpit where he remained awake for the night once again.

"Tech, why didn't you wake me? I feel terrible," you expressed your guilt that next morning upon discovering that you had accidentally slept in his bunk, leaving him to forego his own rest.

"That is not necessary. You were tired, and I can always keep my mind occupied with tasks or reading intel," he replied in his usual composed manner, peering at you over his datapad. "I shall assume this was a one-time occurrence, and my bunk shall be my own again tonight."

“Yes, of course," you nodded, your expression reflecting genuine concern as you offered another apology before preparing for the demanding day ahead. Despite Tech's assurances, the weight of your unintended intrusion lingered.

The second time:

It just so happened to be the next night that you found yourself once again interrupting Tech's sleep. Moving through the dark ship with heavy eyes and a yawn on your lips, it was no surprise that you once again miscounted where your bunk was and crawled into the wrong one.

Your head hit the pillow, and your eyes shut as the warmth of the bed enveloped you. However, despite the comfort, a small flickering light kept intruding upon your consciousness, prompting your eyes to flutter open. At first, you didn't register the source, but as you turned your head to the right, your eyes widened in realisation: Tech laying there on his datapad, as if nothing had happened.

"Tech, what... am I...?" you began, your voice trailing off as confusion clouded your thoughts.

"In the wrong bunk?" he interjected calmly, settling his datapad down and gazing down at you. His goggles rested atop his head, allowing you to see the brightness of his eyes in the dark. "That is correct."

You sit up, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood over you, and run your hand over your face in frustration. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's up with me.”

Tech raises a single brow, his expression softened with genuine concern. "Perhaps in the morning, I should run some tests if you will allow me?" he suggests softly, his voice carrying a hint of worry. "But for now, I suggest you get some sleep."

Nodding in agreement, you reluctantly pull the blanket off your body, preparing to retreat to your own bunk. However, before you can make your escape, Tech's hand gently rests on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"You are free to continue sleeping in my bunk tonight if you find it comfortable," he offers unexpectedly, his gesture of kindness catching you off guard.

"What, really?" you respond, turning to face him, searching his eyes for confirmation.

With a nod, Tech reclines back and retrieves his datapad. "Yes, really. I do not mind."

"But what if I keep you awake again?" you voice your concern.

"Do not worry about me," he reassures softly, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, get some rest before I give you a lecture about the benefits of getting sleep."

You chuckle softly at his remark before settling, finding comfort in his understanding demeanor. As you prepare to drift off into slumber, you can't help but feel thankful for Tech's compassion and generosity.

In the quiet of the night, you woke up only once, feeling Tech's arm drape gently across your body. Yet, instead of feeling unsettled, you found comfort in his presence.

Crosshair 💤

The first time:

As you prepared to settle in for the night after a long day, exhaustion clouded your judgment, leading you to absentmindedly crawl into a bunk without much thought. However, your relaxation was short-lived as you were startled by a gravelly voice beside you.

"What are you doing?" The abrupt question made you jump, and you inadvertently knocked your head against the top of the bunk in surprise.

"What am I doing? What the kriff are you doing?" you retorted in annoyance, rubbing your sore head as Crosshair sat up beside you, his expression stern in the dim light.

"I'll think you'll find this is my bunk," he hissed, his sharp gaze piercing through the darkness. As you glanced across the room, you realised your mistake—the bunk you were in wasn't yours.

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. Now get out before I drag you out," he threatened, though you could tell it was more playful than serious.

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on," you sighed as you obediently crawled out of his bunk, feeling the absence of warmth as you departed.

Crosshair grumbled under his breath and rolled back onto his side to sleep, while you mentally chided yourself for the blunder, making sure you never accidentally try to sleep in his bunk again.

The second time:

You're exhausted, your head throbbing with the relentless ache of sleep deprivation from the past few days, and you've reached the point where you don't care where you sleep anymore. And that includes Crosshair's bunk.

As you settle down on the edge of his bunk, the closest one available, you feel the weight of his gaze on your back, following your movements as you swing your legs around and lay down. "What are you doing?" his voice cuts through the silence, tinged with irritation.

You don't reply, simply closing your eyes as you allow the fatigue to wash over you, hoping for a moment's respite.

"This is my bunk," he asserts firmly, his agitation evident, but as you remain silent, his annoyance shifts to confusion.

"Are you... alright?" he inquires, concern creeping into his voice.

You shake your head softly, and you hear him sigh, but he doesn't press you further. Nor does he demand that you leave.

As sleep begins to claim you, Crosshair remains awake for a while, his thoughts swirling. In his mind, he tells himself that this is a one-time occurrence.

Yet, if you're upset and in need of somewhere to rest for a while, he doesn't mind if you sleep next to him again. After all, it turns out to be the best sleep he's had in a while too.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417@eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex x @jesseeka @theroguesully y @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97@staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans s @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd @thiswitchloves9904

[emiplayzmc]

...so I may have gone a tiny bit insane rewatching NBC's 'Hannibal,' and decided to redraw promo images for the show as fanart of Scrollon and Everette (made by Brightgoat and e40536, respectively) :)

The butterfly next to Scrollon is a Pink Rose, the one next to Everette is an Emerald Swallowtail, the shoulder bug is just a random cybernetic-looking bug, and the dragonfly is just supposed to be a generic red dragonfly.

(It wasn't intentional but like. Red Dragonfly = Red Dragon like the Hannibal book)

Based on these two promos respectively:

♤~~♡~~♤

Also wanted to draw Cinna here too, and found the perfect bit of dialogue between Hannibal and Alana Bloom in Season 3 :)

S: "...and if I were to escape in earnest, and come to kill you?"

C: "You'd do it the first chance you get, I assume."

S: "You died in my kitchen that night, Cinna. Every. Moment. Since. Is borrowed."

(Slightly altered dialogue, but it's from Season 3, Episode 13 of 'Hannibal.')

♤~~♡~~♤

Aaaand also drew Scrollon with bug features because of the whole 'Will sees Hannibal with shadowy deer features' thing, so why not have some shadowy bug features as how Everette may see him sometimes?

(alt text for the text next to the shadowy one)

^ This was actually made before the other three images lol.

♤~~♡~~♤

Scrollon (Pink Addison) and Cinnamon (Yellow Addison) belong to @brightgoat

Everette (Green Addison) belongs to @e40536