#hunter gets to take the brunt this time )

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Nsfw scenarios/hcs for the LADS boys with their MC in ABO!AU (Idl if I wrote this right 😅) please? Like how they marked their mates, how they treated their mates during the rut and heat, etc.

+ Omegaverse, sexual content, alpha boys/omega reader, female reader

General

9/10 possessiveness level

Xavier is the most possessive of the main boys and gets jealous the easiest. He may seem calm about other alphas standing a little too close or talking a little too long to his mate, but the tension in the air is thick and unpleasant. There's a specific eery calmness to his face and falsely polite tone to his voice when he happens to cut into the conversation. He always wants to know the topic of conversation when you talk to anyone who has his suspicion. Xavier suddenly gets a little needier than usual, always trying to figure out a way to draw your attention back to himself. Or, purposely sliding an arm around your waist and holding you close in a silent hint that whoever is talking to you should back off, or he will drop his head against your shoulder, saying he’s tired, and asking you to hurry up so you can go home together,  he emphasizes. His last resort isn't pretty. 

While calm, he has a little of a competitive streak with others, whether that means scoring higher in your hunter team battles or building the largest snowman together. He is competitive for your attention against those he thinks are interested in you; and when he has you alone, he insists on scenting you or mating you. You better be prepared to hide large bite marks or hickeys by the time he’s done claiming you.

Protective Level: 6/10

Xavier has no problem with you running about your daily life. He has confidence that you’re strong and don’t necessarily need much protection. He only insists on coming with for two things: (one) if he’s jealous of the person you’re meeting or (two) if you’re going somewhere to fight on your own.

As long as he’s around, he’s confident that things will work out fine. However, he gets extremely protective when you’re hurt, asking for you to stay behind him, rushing ahead to be the vanguard, and trying to take on the brunt of everything himself. And if you get hurt being rash, prepare for him to be upset with you and insist that you allow him to protect you more.

Scenting

Scent: Fresh Linen

Xavier smells good, but there isn’t something to pinpoint about his scent that is unique to him. Simply put, he smells clean, like freshly dried laundry with a touch of lavender.

Xavier loves covering you in his scent, cuddling and sleeping with you until you’re no longer entirely sure what your scent smells like not mixed with his. He scents your things, like your plushies, before you even need to ask. 

He likes to tease you, asking if you want him to scent his hoodies even more since you take them so much, and he’s always happy to oblige. His first instinct to calm you down consists of three options: scenting, cuddles, and food, in that order.

Mating

Xavier already likes to mate with his partner a lot, like a constant rut minus the attitude that comes with it; always wrapping his arms around you, nudging the back of your neck, and lightly coercing the situation to where he wants it to end up whenever the opportunity shows itself.

In a rut, he’s twice as easy to rile up and much more direct about wanting to be alone with you, wanting to hold you and shove his head into the divot of your neck, and audibly inhaling your scent. You can already feel him against you in more ways than one.

He doesn’t waste his time trying to play games with you during this time, choosing to show you exactly how much he wants you before taking charge. You’re burnt out by his energy when you’re used to him napping right after a round or two. This time he isn’t letting up, but he promises that he’ll treat you so well, promises that he’ll get you there twice in exchange for letting him have one more time, as if you're aren't already overstimulated with jellied legs.

He asks if you're already tired. He'll let you sleep but can he at least squeeze and kiss you while he uses his hand. He promises to clean his mess if it gets on you. He'll be good, he swears, and he's so puppy eyed that you let him.

When he finally is tired, he’ll fall asleep while inside you. His knot stopped swelling a long time ago, but he enjoys your warmth around him as he nuzzles the back of your head.

Xavier does his best to tend to his mate when they’re in heat. He’ll get warm compresses and try his best to cook for you (most likely failing) and offer to nap with you when you’re in pain. He’ll let you use him how you want as long as it makes you feel better, whether that’s using his hands, mouth, or knotting you.

There’s a small bit of worry from him, with the way he asks,

“Where do you need it?” “Like this?” “Are you sure you only want my fingers? It’s okay to ask for more.” “Open your legs wider. You don’t have to be embarrassed. It's only me." "Next time, I'll let you take care of me, deal?

You’re so cute like this, needing and wanting him, but he hates how it causes you pain.

General

3/10 possessiveness level

Rafayel tends to have confidence that he can have you before anyone else, trusting your judgment to take care of yourself. He also has pretty high esteem of himself when it comes to the social world. A few properly chosen words is usually enough to get any seducer to back off. Rafayel can’t believe someone else could possibly think they’d have a chance with you when you have him.

As repentance, he wants you to do things for him after little incidents like that. It’s so exhausting chasing lesser alphas off, after all. Whether he’s serious or not when he says he could use some affection after his omega so cruelly ignored him for another alpha remains to be determined.

If there ever is a time where he feels insecure or jealous, he isn’t above trying to cut off someone’s relationship with you. If it comes to threats so be it, but it will end. It doesn’t matter if it’s from your side or the pursuer. It’s an ultimatum, either him or the other person, but not both.

He has a bigger concern about you not needing or growing bored of him than falling in love with someone else. Otherwise, he tends to have faith in you.

Protectiveness Level: 8/10

Rafayel knows you’re strong. Trust him—a twisted arm and playfights abound—he knows. But you are also bulledheaded and naïve. He worries you might end up getting yourself injured; or worse, killed.

So, he’s observant as always, watching for any suspicious activities with the people you’re around, whether warranted or not. He wouldn’t just do that for anyone, only for his precious mate and also for his precious peace of mind. He tends to operate from the background to not be too overbearing, but he doesn’t mind being the one to step in—to get hurt—if it means keeping you safe.

Scenting

Scent: Beach Sand with a Hint of Citrus

Rafayel smells of white beach sand and tropical fruit. He smells like the first hint of salt air and the ocean breeze and mineral. It reminds you of family vacations and old memories. He insists most Lemurians have scents like these, but his is special! It's the only one that mixes so lovely with yours.

He does scent you when you ask, but he requests that you do the same. It’d be much better for you to scent each other. He loves to tease you when you ask him to scent things for you.

“If you like it so much maybe I should make it into a perfume.” But he’d hate it if you actually agree. “Wait, let’s not be too hasty. A perfume really can’t compete with the natural source.”

Mating

Rafayel dislikes his mating cycle only because he dislikes losing his sense of control over himself. But when you’re there, with your scent clouding his mind, it’s all bets off. He’s so needy and HAS to have you. He feels like he’ll die if he isn’t burying himself in your scent, your presence, in you. He needs to feel your hands on him and isn’t below demeaning himself or being more forceful than usual to get it.

He’ll constantly seek you out, calling you late at night. He has nothing to say. He just needed to hear your voice, just keep breathing for him, he’s almost there. He needs you to come over to his place right now. It’s all your fault he’s burning like this. You need to get there immediately and take responsibility before he goes insane. He's already dizzy and his hand isn’t cutting it anymore.

In person, he grabs your hand, and the look in his eyes is begging in place of his mouth that’s too heavy with pants to talk straight as he savors your touch, desperate and gluttonous. 

“Right there...don't make me beg…just a little bit longer.” “I need to feel you. There. You feel incredible.” “If you want my knot, you can have it. Say you want it for me, and I’ll give it to you. Say it.”

When it’s your turn to go manic, he’s going to have his revenge for all the bullying and petting you did while he was rutting. He’s going to coo and fawn over how much you need him, and make you ask him nicely for his touch, but he’ll always give in to his little mate. He knows what’ll make you feel good, and he’s going to give it to you in due time. He thinks you look so pretty when you’re about to cum, covered in sweat, body tensing, the shallow, quick breaths.

“I wish I could paint you like this, but I don’t want to look away.” “Do you really want me to breed you that bad? Don’t say you didn’t ask for it.”

Rafayel is going to make sure you have an easy time, clearing out your schedule for you and letting you stay in the studio with him. Thomas' calls are going to go unanswered for a while.

General

6/10 possessiveness level

Zayne is able to get jealous; however, he isn’t one to distrust you. It’s other people he doesn’t trust. He’ll drop hints he doesn’t like something you’re doing, a sarcastic jab here, a polite warning there, and even a “you should be careful of the company you keep.”. He always introduces himself as your mate to ensure there are no misconceptions about your relationship with him.

Zayne occasionally has to remind you that he’s your partner especially when you insist on teasing him and being a brat, poking at that jealous side of his to rile him up. It doesn’t take long for you to get the idea after having him between your legs. It’s really more of a funny thing, seeing him possessive, because he becomes a lot more short-tempered but absolutely refuses to admit he’s being possessive.

However, he calms relatively easy with some reassurance, and he doesn’t care as much if someone likes you after he knows you have zero interest in them. It’s more of an annoyance than something for him to fear.

Protectiveness Level: 10/10

Zayne is always so worried about you. He always has to tell you to be careful, to watch where you’re stepping so you don’t trip, to not drink too much without him there to take you home, and to watch for injuries. It might be a bit of his doctor attitude coming out, but it’s so much worse when it comes to you. You know no one else who adds the weather of the city you’re in to confirm you’re okay.

He’s also protective of your mental wellbeing; he tends to be the rock you rely on. If someone is bothering you, you can tell him, and he’ll be sure to handle the issue immediately.

Scenting

Scent: Bamboo Forest

Zayne smells like bamboo forests, a mix of floral and earthy. It kind of reminds you of him, calm and quiet but strong and solid like the earth. Fresh, green, and slightly woody. It smells like nature.

He scents you when you ask, and he quietly scents you when he wants, always overthinking if it’s something you want him to do or appropriate at a given point in time. It doesn’t take long for him to become better at knowing when you want it, when to leave something with his scent for you when you’re upset, and when to simply cradle you against him. His mood improves exponentially whenever you shove your face into his chest and mumble about how good he smells.

Zayne loves the way you smell. It’s a familiar and comforting thing to have your scent greeting him after a hard day at work. It lets him know you’re doing okay, and he gets worried whenever your scent is off. He can usually tell the slightest changes of your mood, and it makes him agitated whenever you try to pretend you’re fine when he can clearly tell different from smell alone.

Mating

Zayne tries his best to control himself and avoid you during his ruts. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, which leads him to being too restrained whenever he’s with you to the point where you can tell he’s not handling himself well.

It’s going to take a few times to convince him that you can handle it, that he can let go and give you everything before he finally allows himself to dive into his hormones, throw you against the bed, and kiss you hard. It's almost like a completely different side of him. Sure, he could always be dominant in the bedroom but there was always a control to it. Instead, he's instinctive, running off the rush of endorphins to reach the peak he desperately wants to tumble over, harsh and tunnel visioned as he chases the sensation of you clamping down around his knot.

“Hold it there, we’re almost there. You can handle it.” “Let me have you a few more times. Then, you can rest.” “Good girl. You’re doing so well. So good to me.”

During your time, he is meticulous. Zayne knows you almost as well as you know yourself, knows what sweets you like to eat, what positions make you the most comfortable, and tips on how to keep yourself together.

That only works so long, however, and soon he takes a more hands on approach in helping you through your heat cycle. His fingers curled up inside you, pushing that sweet springy spot inside you that has your juices pouring over his palm. He shushes you as you beg for him to give you more and more, to please stop this edging and fuck you already.

He promises he’ll make it good, but he has to slowly work you up first, so you won’t get overstimulated. Then, he’ll give you what you want until you pass out.

“Hold still, or do you want me to stop?” “Does it feel that good? I’ll be sure to remember that for next time.” “See what happens when you follow directions?” “You’ll have your reward soon. Which do you prefer to have—my fingers or my knot?”

Zayne also takes special care of you no matter the situation, making sure to wipe you off and hold a warm rag to your swollen and puffy cunt as he makes out with you. He scents you heavily afterward and lets you fall asleep against him until it all starts over again.

[keferon]

Okaur I had to quickly write something for prowl getting sick cuz its so funny enjoy teehee

______

Prowl cupped Jazz close to his chassis, as close as he could as he turned and began running away from the aliens, managing to gain a good amount of distance between them and their hunters.

Jazz held onto the nooks and crannies in Prowl's chest to not fall, though the other squeezed him hard enough against the metal Jazz would most likely not fall. God damnit! The one time he doesn't bring his mecha..

Jazz had barely any time to process it when Prowl tripped.

He fell, pressing the servo closed over Jazz, catching himself best he could, turning quickly to catch the brunt of the fall on his back as they tumbled down to a small opening in the desert hills.

Jazz was still holding tight when the shaking and rattle stopped. He groaned a little from inside Prowl's closed servo, as Prowl quickly opened it and looked down at the other with concerned optics.

"Sshit- y'couldve warned me-" Jazz huffed, looking up to Prowl and then freezing, visibly enough for Prowl to notice.

"Are you okay?" Prowl questioned, blinking and then noticing a pink drip of energon drop down into his palm, Jazz barely managing to sidestep to not catch it on his helmet.

"Am I- bloody hell mech- are you okay?!"

Jazz questioned, grabbing to Prowl's chest and climbing up to the others face, Prowl supporting him a little with an unsteady palm.

"I feel-" Prowl vented.

He blinked, stuttering a little. Something sent shivers through his chassis, rattling underneath his plates. He tried to evaluate his situation but his processor only added more errors on top of already existing ones whenever he tried to reboot.

His processor might've been damaged, something might've been. He'd been sluggish during their stand-off with the aliens..

"I feel-" he felt warm, but not. Coolant rushing through his systems to fight off a virus, over-exerting his engine and motor functions. Prowl felt....giddy.

Jazz looked at the others face and then down at him as a whole. Prowl's vents were heaving, his armour plates moved in an uncomfortable tremble whenever he exvented, pink energon dripped out of the others nose.

Prowl snorted, which caught Jazz off guard as he looked back at the mech's face, his eyes wide.

"You're funny." Prowl mumbled. His eyes were dilating and shrinking, as he furrowed his optic ridge a little.

"Jazz- im going- to fall-"

He barely managed to cup his servo under Jazz to hold onto before his body slumped and fell back into the sand and dirt.

"Prowl! What the fuck- Prowl!" Jazz crawled quickly back onto the others chassis, staring at him.

"Whats wrong?! Whats happenin?! Were y'injured?" He questioned, staring down at Prowl's incomprehensible face. Was he- was he smiling???

Prowl was watching the other frantically scramble around himself, looking for injury or any other sign of an error.

"My spark.." Prowl mumbled out, making Jazz flinch so hard it sent whiplash through the others body.

Jazz climbed back to the chassis, looking at the other.

What- what what what?! Prowl's spark couldn't possibly be hurt could it?? Did an alien get a shot through his back????

"My spark...is yours.." Prowl cooed in a hushed voice, faceplates twitching in an uncharacterical grin.

Jazz's face sunk. Something was definetly wrong. "Whats goin' on, did y'get hit with somethin'??" Jazz mumbled, leaning down and trying to get the others chest open.

"You're the best thing thats ever happened too mee..." Prowl continued like Jazz wasn't the least bit concerned.

Jazz paused again, taking in a deep breath and looking at the other, even more quizzical than before.

"Yer talkin' like a drunk." Jazz thought out loud, leaning down to examine Prowl's face, which sent the other into a frenzy of giggles. Giggles. Giggles. Prowl was giggling at him.

Prowl smiled, optics half-shut, examining the others flustered, puzzled gaze just as Jazz examined his wide grin like it was a completely new face Prowl had just put on.

"You mmean...the woorlld...to meee.." Prowl giggled, slightly waving his servo slugglishly off the ground to exaggerate. He felt like laughing more, watching Jazz's face turn all shades of pink whenever he spoke.

"I'm callin' for Ratchet." Jazz declared, cheeks rose, kicking his foot very very gently on the others chest. "Open up."

-

Hhad to cut it short cuz I could just go on and on writing lmao (i need to goto sleep )

AUUUGGGHHAHAHAHAHHAHA OH THIS IS. PFFFFHHHHHHHHH YEAH MMMM YEP. THE SICK CLOWNERY. AMAZING~~~

[daydreamteardrop]

Girlhood - Sylus x Reader Drabble

Note: Hello! This is a drabble Ive started, maybe I'll continue it. I thought about how Sylus would be so up for helping MC be more confident in a girly style, because her whole life she wasnt allowed to present girly for her safety. (im massively projecting). Grandma Josephine is carrying the brunt of that LMAOOO, idk, is not being a Josephine fan controversial?

Not beta read, we explode like Josephine.

Spoilers for Sylus' Story!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• °.•

Girlhood wasn't really something you got to grow into.

Middle school introduced the full throttle of make-up, accessories and hairstyles onto the girls your age. And you found it fun, in fact, you always wanted to join the bandwagon.

But your dear gran was just so worried. She'd hold your hands tight and tell you that presenting so feminine can be dangerous. You will be stared at, perhaps even talked to by strangers, god - it would hurt your dear Grandma's heart should you walk outside while presenting in a girlish way. She'd be worried sick.

‘The boys would stare…’

‘Think about the way home, it gets dark so quickly during fall and winter.’

'It's unsightly.’

‘You are way too young.’

‘You’d get unwanted attention.’

And you didn't want to worry her.

So with a sad smile you were always the odd one out. You'd wear big T-shirts and pants. The girls in your class looked at you with such a pitiful yet mocking expression. One time they even ‘accidentally’ cut your hair and when Caleb picked you up from school that day, your silent begging to just go home was the only thing that stopped him from acting against the bullies. Grandma saw it as an opportunity to keep your hair short. It stayed the same even in highschool, where you were mistaken as Caleb's little brother once.

In the Hunter Academy, you were able to loosen the insistence of your grandma and managed to grow your hair to just above your shoulder again.

When you first wore the official Hunter's uniform, you couldn't be happy. The only thought that crossed your mind was ‘Grandma would worry if she saw the bare stomach.’.

When Tara would try to convince you to do anything girlish, you'd decline with a sour smile. Too scared, too constricted.

Even when the explosion took her, you just couldn't free yourself of the shackles.

-

Now, the dress Sylus made you wear for the auction was…gorgeous. The black and velvet felt so nice on your skin, it was practical to move in. The accessories glittered and reflected the dim lighting of the hallway. You didn't dare touch your hair, not knowing how, so the matching black claw-clip was in your hand. You didn't have any make-up you could use. And so it felt sinful to walk along this disgustingly expensive carpet in heels you weren't used to.

He held his hand out for you to take and wore that smirk. Black gloves met his calloused hand and he observed you. Looked you up and down and there was no way to tell if his gaze was scrutinizing. Red eyes met your face and then your hair, then to the claw clip in your hand.

“...not to your taste?”

“That's not it…”

Fingers clenched around the material of the hair accessory. He raised an eyebrow, urging you to continue.

“...I don't know how to put it in. I mean, it's kinda obvious how to, but-”

Before you could bring a finished sentence into the room, he grabbed the clip from your hand and spoke “Turn around.”

“Huh?”

He sighed. “I'll help you.”

With a bit of hesitation you turned around. Something about turning your back to the Onychinus leader was unnerving, an inner part of your brain scratched that it was crazy, but the moment his hands pulled your hair to the back with an uncharacteristic gentleness, the scratch stopped. He left a bit of hair out on purpose, letting it frame your face, and clasped the rest in place neatly by the claw clip.

Your hand traced over it carefully and you turned around and met his eyes. He huffed, satisfied with himself and put his hands in his pant pockets.

You recall the sentence that left him earlier.

‘No one can stay wary, when there's a beauty walking around.’

You're not used to being described with that adjective.

-

After the auction, Sylus waved you off when you wanted to return the dress and its accessories to him.

‘It was tailored for you. It's yours now.’

His way of using his money was…questionable to you. The dress was miles outside of your budget range and you hung it straight and neatly, in order to not even get a hint of a wrinkle in the luxurious fabric.

Closet doors were open and you stared at it, like it was some sort of glorious painting in a museum.

‘Maybe I should frame it.’ you thought as you sighed dreamily. When the tips of your hair slide over the back of your neck, you shudder, because it reminds you of Sylus' fingertips in your hair when putting it up with the clip.

Your poor pillow is the target of your suppressed squeal. A dress was in your possession.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

DaydreamTeardrop2025

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ if you love me right, then who knows !!

ᝰ.ᐟ you decide it's time to let your beloved bodyguard relax. ( fem!reader )

pairing jinchul woo x reader word count 2.4k content contains breeding kink, creampie, roleplaying domesticity (pretending to be husband&wife), bodyguard!au, rich girl!reader, size difference/size kink kinktober masterlist

It’s been a rough day, give or take. 

From the moment Jinchul Woo steps into the office, he’s been slammed with work. Hunters not returning, hunters looking to sue because of jobs gone wrong, new gates opening up at every other second, coworkers who are so swamped with work that they’re looking to pass it off to anybody and everybody — and as the chairman’s right-hand man, Jinchul gets the privilege of taking the brunt of it. How lucky is that?

And it’s because he’s the chairman’s most trusted employee (and the strongest A-Rank he has in his arsenal), that when all is said and done, the working day isn’t over for Jinchul. 

Instead of coming home to his stark apartment, empty save for the essential pieces of furniture, like a couch he put purely for its functional purposes instead of aesthetic reasons, he finds himself pulling up to a gated estate, opening the clicker so the gate opens to allow his car inside, and then he’s parking in a garage full of luxury vehicles. 

For the past month and for the foreseeable future, Jinchul Woo has been given the assignment of a lifetime: watching over the only granddaughter the chairman has. Even if Jinchul didn’t respect Go Gunhee, there would have been no room for Jinchul to deny the chairman’s request. Him asking to take care of you was just a formality. And as a formal man himself, Jinchul can respect that.

The only issue is that you’re not one for formalities. As a college-aged girl with more money and privileges than most, it’s no surprise that you’re a bit of a brat. The moment you saw Jinchul and learned that he was to be at your beck and call, Jinchul knew he was in trouble.

He just never knew just how far he’d go to reprimand you. 

It all starts off innocently enough; he supposes that’s how most things go. Gentle scoldings here, a few lectures there. But ever perceptive, Jinchul would catch the way you clench your thighs and rub them together every time he gets onto you. He notices the way you decide to walk around the mansion in pajama sets that get more revealing by the day. The way you start asking him to open jars for you and to build furniture that you don’t need. He knows better than to ever act on your desires, but his resolve to remain unaffected crumbles the second you practically pounced on him, batting your pretty lashes slick with tears, asking him why he won’t fuck you. Is it because you’re not pretty enough? Smart, driven? What is it? 

No. He thinks you’re absolutely perfect the way you are. And he spends that night fucking you, showing his devotion to you, all while reprimanding you in a way that will certainly leave an impression: spanking you for teasing him, for constantly disobeying him on purpose. 

That’s how sex usually initiates between the two of you. You decide to push his buttons and wait for him to snap. 

But Jinchul is pleasantly surprised when he walks in, slipping off his shoes and tossing aside his briefcase, only to be greeted at the sight of you on your knees, wearing an apron, smiling up at him sweetly. 

“Welcome home, husband,” You chirp cheerfully. 

For once in your dynamic, it seems like Jinchul’s the one in trouble now. 

He swallows hard, looking down at the demure sight of you. 

“Wha- what is this, exactly?” Jinchul stutters, unable to remain composed, nervously tugging at the tight knot of his work tie. 

“Can’t a wife greet her husband when he comes home?” You pout, and it all clicks. 

The guys at work always say it’s easy for Jinchul to pull in overtime and work himself to death; after all, it’s not like he has a family or a wife or even a girlfriend who’s going to stay up late, worrying about him. One night, when Jinchul decides to grab a drink after work and comes back to you, you help him onto the couch, worried. He had been too drunk to realize it at that moment, but the fact that you stayed up because he hadn’t come home to you yet makes his heart ache. (It’s why he doesn’t pull in as much overtime as he used to, no matter how hectic work gets.) That night, he admits that it’d be nice to have a wife and start a family, to have something distract him from work, to pull him out of the misery of paperwork and other people’s troubles. 

He didn’t realize how that drunken confession would impact you. 

He runs a hand through his blond hair, messing up the styled strands, disrupting the hair gel. “Get up, honey.” He tacks on the pet name, trying it out for the first time. It rolls off his tongue easily, a little too easy, really. He pats your head, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him how much larger his hand looks when it’s anywhere near your body as opposed to his own. 

“That’s not fair. I wanted to treat you to something special.” You get up, though you’re still pouting. 

“Oh, yeah?” He’s walking to the kitchen, wondering whether it would just be easier to order takeout, before the scent of a home cooked meal hits him. “Did you cook?”

“Of course, I did.” You cross your arms, bringing attention to the pink apron you’re wearing. “Why wouldn’t I?” You seem happy that he’s surprised about this. “Now go to the dining room, and you’ll see that I already have your plate ready! Just wait a second, though. I have to reheat the soup.” 

Jinchul doesn’t go to the dining room, though. He remains rooted in his spot because he’s frozen at the view you’re giving him when you turn around. Underneath the apron, you’re wearing nothing. Not even a pair of panties. You’re crouching down a bit to bring your mouth closer to the pot of soup, and you’re sipping from the ladle, testing to see whether it’s warm enough or not. 

“Ah!” You let out a squeal when you feel the muscular body of Jinchul, the only thing separating him from you being the stiff fabric of his suit. Quick with his reflexes, Jinchul reaches from behind you to catch the ladle before it falls into the pot, potentially splattering you with hot soup. He places it gently in, before shutting off the stove entirely. 

“Jinchul.” You whine, bending awkwardly to try to look at him. “The food will get cold.” 

“I know, but can’t a husband just take a moment to appreciate his wife?” You love it when Jinchul’s voice gets all low and husky like this, every word he says coated in his dark desire. His large hands grip your waist, squeezing you gently but firmly, and you feel the growing bulge of his cock straining against his suit pants. “If I knew you went through all this trouble, I would’ve told the guys at work to fuck off so I could come home to you sooner.” He whispers this in your ear, leaning down. The strands of his hair tickle your cheeks, and before you can tell him that it’s okay, he’s spinning you around to face him. 

You look up at him, and he’s grinning, licking his lips as he stares down at you. “I’m sorry, honey, I know you worked hard but dinner’s going to have to wait. I need to fuck you.” His tone lowers a bit more. “Can I fuck you, honey?” 

“Of course.” You choke out the words, too caught up in just how hot Jinchul looks when he’s unbearably horny. He’s so careful, so put together, so stoic in his everyday life. It suddenly occurs to you that when he’s with you, this is the only time he gets to be a little unhinged, to relieve his stress. 

He’s easily picking you up, placing you right on the granite island of the kitchen. Even sitting on the elevated surface, you still have to look up at Jinchul, and he still has to lean down to crash his lips into yours. You moan into his mouth, enjoying how messy and sloppy Jinchul makes out with you. It’s a stark difference from how he handles everything else in his life, and you want to unravel him just a bit more. 

While he’s sloppily kissing you, swapping spit and swallowing up your moans, he’s making quick work of the bow of your apron, untying the knot and slipping off the tiny strip of fabric from your body. The cold air of the mansion hits you in full force, and you shiver a bit. 

“Spread your legs for me.” He grunts out, when he momentarily separates from you, and you comply. He takes a sharp breath, admiring the way your folds are already glistening, how you’re already wet for him. “Were you this wet the entire time?” He asks, dragging his index and middle fingers against your slit. 

You nod, knowing that anything you say will only be caught in between your little pleasured mewls. 

“You got wet waiting for me to come home? What were you thinking about?” 

“I-I wanted to welcome you home with a blowjob before you ate dinner.” You confess, more slick being produced when the fantasy re-enters your mind. 

His eyes darken at the sound of that. “Yeah? Fuck — you’re such a good wife, you know that?” The tips of his long fingers tease your soaked entrance, and he leans down to whisper in your ear. “We’ll have more nights for you to do that, don’t worry. But tonight, I’m going to be a good husband and treat you so well. You know what good girls like you deserve?” 

You shake your head, not knowing what filth might come out of Jinchul’s mouth.

“You deserve to have me fucking a baby into you. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He chuckles, feeling the way your hole clings to the tips of his fingers, eager for more, desperate for it. “Yeah, I knew you would.” 

Jinchul makes quick work of his pants, undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers, pushing down the layers of fabric ‘til his cock can finally spring free from its confines. He pumps his cock once, twice, but he’s too starved of you to do much more. You’re so wet, the need for prep has long since disappeared, and besides, Jinchul’s fucked you like this many times before. Before you took on the role of wife, you were the brat he had to babysit, and to teach you a lesson, he’s fucked your cunt with no courtesy orgasm to prepare you. 

And you love it. 

You’re already writhing, laying down on the cold granite of the counter as you spread your legs, inviting Jinchul in, gasping and moaning at the way he taps the head of his cock teasingly against your slit before inserting the head in. He’s in love with the sight of his long cock disappearing into your wet, tight cunt. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, honey.” He grunts out, sliding his cock further into you ‘til he’s balls deep. You haven’t stopped moaning the entire time. 

He leans down to capture one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and biting at the soft flesh as he starts steadily pounding into you, getting into that quick, jagged rhythm of his that he’s particularly fond of when he’s in a rush to cum. His mouth moves upwards, sucking and kissing at your collarbone, moving further up until he’s planting a kiss right on your lips, inhaling your moans of pleasure, keeping up with his same, quick pace, battering away at your cervix. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it, honey?” He asks you, feeling the way you tighten up. “Yeah, I knew my little wife would love this. You ready for me to get you pregnant, sweetheart?” He coos, and you can’t help but nod. A little Jinchul running around wouldn’t be too bad, right? In fact, right now, with his dick making you see nothing but stars, you think several tiny Jinchuls would be a dream come true. 

You can’t answer him using your voice, but you do wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him in place as if he was going to run off. He smiles at your reaction, taking a calloused thumb to rub circles against your clit, relishing in the feel of your walls tightening around him. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” You squeal out, before letting out a jumbled stream of syllables that sounds distinctly like his name. You’re creaming all over him and his cock, the cock that’s splitting you open, the cock that’s going to get you fucking nice and bred, all for him, only for him. His grin is feral as he continues with his thrust, now content to chase after his own high. The ring of white circling around his cock only motivates him further, and he’s shoving himself deep inside of your messy cunt as he cums. 

Shooting copious amounts of thick, white cum right at the entrance of your cervix, practically straight into your fucking womb, Jinchul still keeps rutting his hips until you let out a weak whine. 

“Aw, are you too tired, honey?” He asks you, giving you a forehead kiss. “Just give me a second, okay?” He tells you, waiting for the pleasure of your walls clamping on his dick to subside. Even after his cock gets too sensitive and begs for relief, he remains inside of you, still wanting to enjoy the feeling of your cunt twitching around his cock, swallowing up his cum. 

He rests his forehead against your own. “You feeling alright, honey?” Even though the act should be over, Jinchul is still calling you by that pet name, and you love it. You don’t protest it, but you try not to draw attention to it, out of fear that he’ll realize he should stop pretending and shatter the illusion. Despite his cock plugging you up, a trickle of the mixture of your shared cum is trickling out of your cunt, and you let out a mhm. 

“Ah, I should get up and reheat the soup for you.” You mumble, struggling to lift yourself from the counter. He only pushes you back down, shushing you. 

“You should rest. Let me heat it up.” Jinchul’s hand finds your own, and he’s entangling your fingers together. “But let’s stay like this just a little bit longer.” 

You don’t complain, letting the warmth of Jinchul blanket you. You want to stay together like this forever.

(And he does, too.)

[mamayan]

★LOVE★

Darling! Hisoka Morow x Yandere! Reader

cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Fem! Reader • Noncon turned Dubcon • Yandere Themes • Murder • Emotional Instability • Yandere! Reader • Drug usage • HC • PIV

This is not “reader” inclusive as I’d assume nearly 99.9% of you do not exhibit true yandere traits. This is written with a female yandere in mind. No other physical descriptors will be used, but “reader” will have psychological descriptors and habits which will likely not match the majority. Please keep this in mind while reading. Thank you!

To become so obsessed with a psychotic mass murdering clown magician like Hisoka, you’d need to be a special breed. Harley Quinn style if you will, but incorporating an even more massively unhealthy level of adoration and blindness.

Since Hisoka is a whimsical sociopath and amoral character, it’d likely attract someone that is… surprisingly selfless and mildly antisocial. His attitude and way of life likely trigger feelings of envy and jealousy at first within you. Why does he get to be so carefree? Why can’t you just slaughter your entire place of work when they piss you off?

So starts the morbid curiosity. Who is Hisoka Morow?

You’d see him in passing a time or two, maybe you’d even witness him kill or target an individual in battle. You’d stay undetected by Hisoka. This requires great skill in nen-ability and you’d likely be a pro-Hunter or something along those lines. You’d need to be incredibly powerful and a good strategist to have Hisoka as a darling. Specializing in stealth/tracking/spying would all do you well in aiding to observe stalk Hisoka.

He’d take a life so easily it’d stun you. His lack of remorse after even more. How does he feel so little? Why is he so easily aroused in battle? Why can’t you look away? Rationality will need to take a backseat in this budding crush you have. It won’t bloom into what you call “love” until he does something that speaks to you personally.

It’ll be entirely mundane too.

He’ll do one thing that will capture your heart. Maybe it’s when he spares Gon and Killua. He’d claim it’s because they’ll make worthy opponents later. You’ll see it as something else.

Once your feelings for him are established, it’s impossible to find fault with him anymore. Everything he does is perfect, utterly adorable and fascinating, and he’s a silly kitten who can do no wrong in your mind. His clawed finger nails are proof that the most harm he can do is claw up some curtains.

Hisoka is constantly on the move, traveling often and usually very light. He does have a few spaces he uses more like storage than actual living quarters. This where you spend time when you aren’t observing him. Going through his things, envisioning a future with him, imagining him tied to the bed.

You’ll be delusional but no so much you believe you can have him without force. Wild cats are hard to tame after all, and a superiority complex over Hisoka will begin to develop the longer you watch and learn about him. You’ll likely have dug up all the skeletons of his past. You believe you know him best, who else understands him so well but you?

This dig includes any lovers or even potential lovers. They’re in the way and need to be gotten rid of. You can’t let them ruin him now can you?

Finding all of his past lovers isn’t easy, especially without alerting him to anything suspicious at first. Thankfully, despite his track record of murders, his love life is stale at best. A few hookups when he was younger, no long term relationships, but he does have a notable relationship with a female from the Phantom Troupe.

Machi, a beautiful woman which Hisoka blatantly flirts with. More than the usual too, it holds a level of sexual tension which invokes unparalleled rage inside you. It’s ironically not directed at Machi, but she’ll bear the brunt of it anyway.

Hisoka is given both a sick and delightful surprise when Machi’s severed head is delivered to his hotel suite in a box. A love poem hand written by you in it, but it’s a warning for him too.

It’s a grotesque combination, but it’ll most certainly catch his attention. A bouquet might’ve sufficed too, but Hisoka will now know of your existence. He doesn’t think this is a love note though, he thinks this is revenge. He’ll be angry too, because whether Machi was ever a real love rival or not, she was someone he wanted to fight. His designated prey was caught and killed before he even had a true chance of tasting victory over them. That must mean you are an even better treat.

It’ll drive you wild seeing how desperate he becomes to track you down and find you. He comes close a few times too, but always just out of reach. His real niche laying in combat unlike you. It feels romantic in a sense, and it’ll drive the fantasy further that you two are meant to be together. He’s meant to be yours isn’t he? As you begin leaving even more obvious hints of your presence in his life, he’ll realize it’s not revenge you’re seeking.

He’ll figure out he’s got a perverted little stalker when he finds your cute lace panties left for him to find. No need to mention you’d touched yourself on his bed to the thought of him and came in them. It’ll be fairly obvious from the fact that he hasn’t been to this particular hideout in a while and it’s spotless. No dust. Everything perfect, but he didn’t clean before he left this one. Then he’ll see on the unmade bed, a clear sign of a woman having intruded and marked the area. Strands of your hair. Your scent. Your clothes.

Still, he won’t catch you. He’ll bait you too, and sometimes you wonder if you’ve been caught only to realize he just knows he’s always being watched now. He doesn’t know your exact location or if you actually are there. “I liked your gift… hmm, but it would’ve been a nicer surprise to see you in them~” he’s flirtation and goading. It’ll be difficult to resist him, when he’s seemingly speaking straight at you. You know the moment you reveal yourself though, he’s not going to drop to his knees and offer himself to you. It’ll be a battle on sight. Though the thought of him getting aroused because of fighting you… makes you itch to throw caution to the wind.

Instead you clear any and all traces of your presence for several long months, until Hisoka grows avidly annoyed and then slowly disinterested, moving on to other opponents and amusements. Being in your line of work means a very much endless cash flow, the resources available to keep up with your favorite pass time of just watching him in all his glory. He’s perfection, even as his face twists up into a manic monstrous expression as he slaughters his victims, you see nothing but an angel. Never mind the screams and begging for mercy, isn’t he so cute when he plays a magic trick for them? It’s easy to become overwhelmed with jealously occasionally, but you’re good at being patient and reminding yourself that person isn’t special, Hisoka is just entertaining himself.

It’s also hard to remind yourself you aren’t special either. While it takes a certain sense of superiority over a darling to develop yandere tendencies, you’re also affected by an inferiority complex about the world. This means you’re isolated in how you interact with the world, no close friends or relatives, no real hobbies outside of what assists you with your work, hardly any social interactions that aren’t required. This is what makes Hisoka so fascinating, and it’s also what starts your real downward spiral to depravity.

What makes you truly snap and lose control to your yandere tendencies , is nothing other than Hisoka himself.

He’s coming down from a recent high of a fight in Heaven’s Arena, only showing up due to being challenged as a floor master, but the fight had been surprisingly up to his standards. His opponent was both entertaining and thrilling until their end. He was in a good mood, a very good one, so when a spectator approached him batting their lashes and hinting at spending the night in his suite… he said yes.

That was strike one.

Strike two was the audacity of the piece of shit throwing themself at him. You carefully followed, silent and untraceable as sexual tension began to rise in the elevator all three of you shared. Only they thought it was just them.

Strike three. Wasn’t your presence at least somewhat obvious? It’s highly delusional on your end to become enraged at other’s ignorance to your presence despite your mastery of hiding it. It’s what allowed you to watch Hisoka so long after all, but illogical as it is, you were still pissed. Furious at both of them but now mostly at Hisoka. Who was leaning over them, letting his height and teeth aching sugary tone seduce this common stray off the street like they were his personal favorite. They weren’t. He didn’t have any real favorites. Only toys that were disposable and this was no different but it didn’t matter because he was yours. And it seemed he needed to learn this.

Even Hisoka can be taken off guard, especially with his pants feeling too tight and the piece of ass before him being all to eager to please.

He’s unconscious when you finally reveal yourself. The deafening scream echoing throughout the elevator as it finally reached Hisoka’s designated floor and opening. Unfortunately for the poor soul screaming who was just looking to get laid, you weren’t in the mood to grant them anything less than a brutal death.

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up shut shut up!” Your fist broke bone with each strike, until your victim lay unrecognizable and very dead. You’d released your nen, and every nen user in this entire Arena now knows you’re here, all because anger got the best of you.

It didn’t matter, because even with the corpse at your feet, you were still furious.

You took both Hisoka and the body out of the elevator and swiftly worked to clean up the damage and fluids. You didn’t need the Arena fining you again. Hisoka was out cold, but he’s quick to recover so you work on getting him into his suite and bed, working his wrists into nen blocking steel cuffs. He’s spread like a star fish, each limb hooked to the fancy bed posts. You muttered anxiously as you dug around your bag, hands shaking as you pulled out a small leather pouch about the size of your palm.

It might seem overkill, but chaining and drugging ensured your personal safety once he woke up.

Never mind the fact that you could just leave after disposing of the body. Your heart fluttering and cheeks flushing as you looked upon his unconscious body on the bed prevented you from acting within reason. No, you wanted him to see you, if for no other reason than to establish where he was.

Beneath you.

Hiding your presence and that of the corpse, you quickly left the building with Hisoka’s key card to properly rid yourself of the responsibility and allow yourself to fully focus on Hisoka.

Returning was quick and painless, this time not revealing your presence until back in Hisoka’s suite.

His face was angelic while he slept, though his head would likely ache from the powerful blow you landed to the back to get him in this state. You contented yourself with just watching him for the next hour or so, until with no warning, he woke up. It was odd how he didn’t even twitch. Just suddenly aware of his situation and surroundings, alertness to his features immediately. You wished it was a sleepier and cuter wake up, but you still found it adorable how on guard he was instantly.

Those lovely gold orbs landed on you and narrowed, despite his sly smile. He might appear relaxed and languid for someone chained up and hardly able to move their body due to relaxants circulating their system, but you knew he was furious. Hisoka, as much as he loves playing with others, hates being played with. You stayed silent, letting him observe and calculate, allowing him time to run through his options and every plausible scenario.

“Well… good morning Ms. Stalker.” His airy words sent visible shivers down your spine, his eyes and focus, for the first time entirely on you. He also seemed to note your reaction, his smile sharp and predatory. “Oh? You like the nickname? Bad girl… don’t you know not to play with magic?” He tested his restraints, with surprisingly more strength than you thought he’d have after injecting him. He’d require another dose then. You were quick to work on that, his eyes tracking your movements and realizing your objective.

“Not even going to let me play?” He didn’t resist as you sterilized his arm before injecting him with a fourth dose. Three should’ve been enough to tranquilize an elephant but Hisoka wasn’t a normal human. He flexed his hands and twisted his wrists, copying the same with his feet and ankles. The cuffs were made specifically for him. You’d kindly taken off his shoes and socks, but his shirt and pants remained on. You felt your throat constrict and thighs clench at the thought of him naked. You’d already seen it a multitude of times but he hadn’t known you did. Watching him shower and change so shamelessly.

“You look ready to eat me. Is that what this is dear? You got jealous when I brought another up here?” His nickname for you threw you off, your eyes widening and meeting his teasing gaze. He looked sinfully beautiful like this, at your mercy yet still so him. You licked your lips, feeling mildly nervous now that you were about to speak to him. This was too good an opportunity to pass up though.

“Yes,” he paused when you finally answered, “I…I was very jealous.” Your hands gripped the bottom of your shirt, the material bunching as the earlier annoyance was brought back to your attention. You grimaced, “This wasn’t really how I intended for you to meet me for the first.”

“Oh? But we’re here nonetheless aren’t we?” His tone was a bit snarky, but he was correct. What did you do now? Make every little fantasy you had come true?

“How about this, yes? You take these off and I give you a painless death. Isn’t that nice of me?” His words have your eyes snapping up to his face, his words not matching his sweet expression. He wanted to kill you? Not even fight? You frowned, a low boiling of rage in the pit of your stomach.

“You think you hold any power here?” You sneered back at him, walking to look down at his sorry figure chained up and at your mercy. He was being a brat. You backhanded him swiftly, his head cracking to the side at the force and momentum. His pale skin already reddening as a small trail of blood tricked down his chin. His gaze was on fire as he turned back to look up at you. Defiant and piercing, but his smile never wavered. “How about this, Hisoka, you stay right where you are, and maybe I’ll be nice and let you finish tonight.” His eyes widened, a small moment of shock taking over his features but he quickly schooled them again.

You began undressing swift, throwing your clothes to the floor until you were only in your underwear. Your chest heaved, nipples tightening under the cool air of the room and Hisoka’s gaze. You couldn’t place his expression exactly, a combination of desire and rage most likely. You climbed atop the bed and thus him, knees on either side of his hips as you made light work of his shirt. Shredding the garment and tossing it to join your clothes. His pants were next, now both of you almost completely naked and staring at one another.

“Is this your idea of a good time Ms. Stalker? Tying up innocent magicians and having your way with them?” You laugh at this sentence, because it was silly to think too much about. He was still being light and teasing but he was exuding a little bit of bloodlust.

“No Hisoka, my idea of a good time is just you in general.” You placed a cold hand on his abdomen, sliding it up gently until it reached his throat. “Watching you, hearing you, smelling you…” your eyes trailed up his naked torso to his lips for a moment, before connecting your gazes. “This is your fault really. I didn’t ask to be haunted by you, I didn’t ask to feel like this, I didn’t ask to want someone so badly I’d gladly watch this word burn if it meant you’d be entirely mine.” It was a deeply disturbing confession. You sat down, right over his erection where you could grind your pussy against him and elicit a beautiful hiss of pleasure and pain from him. “I can’t, oh, I can’t decide if I want to own you or be you really,” you panted, beginning a slow rock of your hips as your arousal soared. The object of all your affection beneath you, looking so much like a cat being bathed it brought a small smile to your lips. This was all turning you on, and he seemed to also be enjoying himself somewhat.

“I very much would love to humor you dear, but I really do recommend you remove these.” He dropped his facade, his expression turning dark as he realized how unlikely you were to release him. You were clearly deranged, maybe more so than himself. He tugged against his chains, the rattling echoing around the room but it only served to make you amused. Despite his words, his hips had begun to lightly buck up into you now. Both of your underwear soaked through, a combination of your slick and his precum. His voice and tone sent your hormones flying to cloud nine, your face starting to look intoxicated as you gazed down at him with obsession.

“You say you want them off but do you really want this to end? I could just… leave you here. All night. Maybe I’ll come back just to make sure you, haah, stay hard?” You were panting and a little sweaty, breasts heaving as you became more intoxicated by the moment and him. You looked spelled bound and he looked downright menacing. Of course, because out of all things, Hisoka likes control. His flirtatious attitude can not be mistaken as submissive, but here you were forcing him into such a role. Threatening him with a punishment if he didn’t behave like a dog.

It made him want to bite you like one.

“Pretty Ms. Stalker could’ve told me she wanted her little pussy filled, no need to go to such lengths-tss!” He flinched when you finally fished his cock free, your soft cool hand a striking contrast to his pulsing hot shaft.

“You’re so pretty Hisoka.” You were lost to your own fantasies, not really registering his words anymore. He realized it quickly as you focused all your attention on his leaking cock, impressed by the size and girth. It would hurt, taking him, but the thought of stretching around him was driving you wild.

But first… you dropped your chest low and opened your mouth. Your tongue had him groaning low, the sound of his teeth grinding together had you even wetter than before. You licked from base to tip, slow and sensual. He tasted sweet. Not salty or bitter like you imagined and it had you quickly and messily taking him into your mouth.

For all you were, you weren’t experienced. This was your first blowjob but you prayed not your last, because as you choked and gagged to take more him, he was losing it himself. What you lacked in experience and skill, you were making up for in enthusiasm and pure need to please. Observing his reactions as you let his tip finally sink into your throat even as tears pricked your eyes and fell down your cheeks. It burned and ached, but you pushed the pain down as you watched him. He finally gave in and kept your gaze as you worked to make him cum, sucking and taking him as deep into your throat as you could. You were making an absolute mess of his cock and balls, slobbering all over him. It was erotic and truly enticing, and the only indication he was close was the twitch of his lip and his hips trying to make you take even more of him.

You tried to get all of him in your throat when he came, but you failed by an inch or so. You stayed still as his hot cum coated your throat and mouth, moaning at his musky sweet flavor and making sure to suck and milk him for any leftover until he was choking on his own moans for you.

You made sure to clean him up nicely, licking and making sure even his balls weren’t missed. When you finally pulled back to look at him, you nearly passed out at the sight.

He was slightly sweaty, breathing a little heavier with half lidded eyes glaring and grinning viciously at you. His cheeks flushed, the left slightly bruised from your earlier hit. His lips red and bitten, a bit of blood still leftover on his chin. He looked gorgeous. You couldn’t be blamed when you were stumbling off the bed to grab your camera from your bag. No need to turn the flash off since he knows of your presence now.

He scowls as you snap his picture, looking beautiful and ruined just for you.

“I- sorry- I just need this okay?” You set the camera down, eager to return and continue touching him and exploring.

He snorted, looking at you in disbelief with mild amusement. “Is that so? You needed to photograph me naked?”

“What? No. I have lots of those already. I wanted one of your face after I made you cum.” He seemed flabbergasted at your answer, but you couldn’t help your eager hands from cupping his cheeks and leaned down over his face. “You’re just so pretty I can’t help it.” You told him honestly, his expression relaxing into something neutral as he observes you. Fine by you, as you begin kissing his face, hair, cheek you hit and then his neck. You lick and suck over his pulse, enjoying the masculine groan as you mark him up and lick his sweat. You’re trembling as you wiggle down to his chest, playing with his nipples. Swirling your tongue elicits the best response, his back arching lightly and proving your theory that his nipples are sensitive.

His hardening cock beneath you all the proof you need, your own nipples pebbled and aching as you drag your chest against his while you work.

When he bucks up again underneath you, you finally release his nipple with a pop. Looking at his tossed and adorably fucked appearance, you shiver. His hair messy from throwing his head into the pillows. You licked your lips, finally clumsily trying to get out of your underwear but failing because of your position. With a huff of annoyance you just tore them off, finally completely naked and slightly embarrassed by his stare.

It hardly mattered if he liked what he saw, you weren’t so far gone that you thought you looked anything like his earlier willing catch which you’d crushed- “Pretty thing aren’t you?” You paused your internal rambling when he spoke. His voice low and husky, not as flirtatious and teasing like his usual tone. You’d never heard him use this voice before, you eyes meeting his with curiosity.

He chuckled, but his bloodlust from earlier was gone like it had never happened, “What’s wrong? You were so eager just a moment ago, don’t tell me you’re shy now? Is Ms. Stalker a virgin?”

His goading voice was back, covering up his earlier tone like it’d been a mistake. Though you were surprised he hit the nail on the head. You were a virgin. Not because you lacked people willing to fuck you, but because you lacked interpersonal skills to have a normal relationship. Intimacy terrified you before you’d fallen for Hisoka, but after it was all you seemed to want. To touch him, feel him, make him feel good. You wanted him desperately.

“I won’t be much longer.” You looked away and solidified your resolve as you moved to hover above him again, your dripping cunt begging to be filled. You balanced using one hand on his hip, the other gripping his once more hard cock and lining him up with your entrance. You let his tip brush through your sensitive folds as you shakily released a breath. You took one small peak at his face, his eyes watching you like how a hawk might watch it’s prey.

You let his tip breach your entrance, no surprise that it stung. You didn’t prep yourself at all, and though you were wet enough, you wished you’d thought to carry a little lube in case this scenario ever occurred. It didn’t matter though because even if it hurt you were being connected to him and it made your chest swell with pride and happiness.

“Fuck, you’re tight- ah” he threw his head back and grit his teeth again, your gummy walls simultaneously sucking him in and pushing him out. It had him close already embarrassingly enough. The pleasure and pain mind numbing.

You’d only taken half of him but it was leaving you breathless, “m’trying” you could only gasp as you struggled to push more of him in, tears pricking your eyes once more as the pure stretch of his cock inside you was turning your brain off. It hurt but it felt good too.

“If you take these off, I’ll happily finish the job you’ve started dear~” Despite his tone, his face looked just as aroused and strained as your own. It was tempting, but deep down you really didn’t trust him. It came from knowing him that you didn’t trust him in the least. You shook your head, denying his prompting. His laugh is dark, even as his hips surge up to force another few inches into you. You cry out, bracing against his chest as you fall forward a bit. He does it again, sinking into you until finally you feel your hips meet and his tip kiss deeply into your cervix. You lay panting against his chest for a moment as his cock pulses inside you, your body pathetically struggling to adjust to his size.

“Take them off while I’m being nice.” He’s not asking, but still you shake your head and push yourself up, moaning as he sinks even deeper. Your hips take on an unsteady rhythm, testing the depth that feels the best but his hips throw you off each time you find the perfect angle. The stretch and friction drive you wild, your mind numbing to the pain and pleasure as you feel the coil inside you close to snapping.

“Feels good~” your moaning loudly, face fucked out and teary eyes locking with Hisoka’s. His eyes are burning, face scrunched up in frustration because your pace isn’t quite fast enough, nor is he hitting as deep as he’d like. His chains clink against the steel posts, you’re too distracted though to pay attention as you desperately work your hips towards your finish, bouncing on his dick. “M’gonna cum Hisoka” your deliriously close, the coil right about to snap-

When his chains do first.

“Huh,” You only get a split second to panic before he’s on you, breaking each steel bedpost and freeing his movement up again. His cuffs are still secured for a second but it’s meaningless a moment later when they shatter. His nen stored up enough to cancel their purpose of restraining him despite how much you’d paid that specialist who guaranteed no one could get out of them. Never mind that he should still be drugged up enough to he struggling to move at all.

You find your positions switched, your back hitting the mattress as you gaze up into his eyes now.

It’s silent for a moment, save your own pounding heart and icy fear now filling your veins. He just… looks at you. His face blank, eyes calculating but just when you decide it’s best to fight than let him slaughter you like this, he laughs.

Not like normal. This is borderline hysterical laughter, his hand wrapping around his torso as he howls with laughter.

Before you can activate your ability, he’s got a hand wrapped around your throat and squeezing just enough to warn you. “Did you think this would all just work out how you wanted dear?” You were scared, that was true, but as he nudged your thighs apart and dragged his still hard cock through your folds teasingly, you realized you were also horrifically aroused too.

All of your fantasies had you on top, because you didn’t trust him not to kill you if he was, if he even wanted to willingly touch you at all.

“Look at you~ poor thing,” he’s mockingly sweet as he leans over you, long tongue coming out to lick your tears off your cheek. As he leaned back, you truly didn’t expect his hand to leave your neck and slap you across the face. The sting follows after his hit lands, but it shocks you silly more than it actually hurts. You don’t have too long to think before he’s shoving himself back in, and your too far gone to stop the orgasm that slams into you. “Wait!” It too late even as you cry out, hands desperately grabbing on to something to anchor you. Him.

He hisses, face vicious as he stares down at you, “Did you really just cum?” His voice somewhat incredulous as he feels you twitch and writhe beneath him. He stayed still, letting you shakily come down from your high before he’s rocking into you.

Then he’s fucking you just how he likes. Hands gripping your hips in a death grip as he slams himself into your overstimulated cunt over and over. He leaves you mewling and fucked stupid beneath him as he mercilessly thrusts into you like a rag doll. You can’t keep up. Can hardly speak besides useless babbling, only making him laugh and sarcastically mock you for it.

“What’s wrong dear? Isn’t this what you wanted? Am I just so deep inside you~?” Cooing as you nod and cry harder.

It’s when he kisses you that you cum again. He tastes like bubblegum and you’re gone, creaming his cock as his tongue tangled with you own messily. It all feels too good, your arms wrapping around his neck, legs around his waist, while you just struggle to take it. His tip pounding away in a spot that has you gasping and sobbing below him, because despite everything, this is the most pleasure you’d ever felt. It was disorienting and left you mildly numb, his sharp claws trailing down your chest softly to settle his thumb over your clit and press until you came again.

This one was slightly painful, your muscles constricting so hard Hisoka finally fell over the edge himself. His moans so pretty, soft and deep as his hips still move despite him emptying himself inside you.

He recovers first, staring down at the pretty thing in his arms struggling to catch her breath.

You’d given quite the headache for a while now, but tonight really took everything up a notch. You certainly weren’t halfhearted, something of which he respected. You weren’t a weak thing either, his thrusts harsh enough to break a normal human’s hips, but you just looked fucked stupid. It was cruel of him to be so rough, but then again you’d really brought it on yourself hadn’t you?

You’d brought all this onto yourself, and whatever happened in the future too.

Because now he was a little hooked as well, and you were just too cute and interesting to leave alone now that he’s tasted you. Had you first.

He easily reached over to snag your camera, switching it on and snapping a picture of you still shaking and twitching with his cock still buried inside you and beginning to grow hard again.

Realization dawned on you, but even as you tried to move and get away from him, he had your wrist locked above your head to stop that nonsense.

“Nu-uh dear, I’m not finished. Not even a little.” His lustful gaze and sadistic smirk had you looking like a frightened animal, but it only served to rile him up further.

It’s after all, your fault for loving someone like him, right?

It’s important to note that once Hisoka becomes interested, he treasures it. But something he treasures one day can become trash the next… until you.

Hisoka is surprisingly a willing darling. Don’t think this reverses any roles, he’s not submissive to you in the slightest. He acts like a total brat but he’s dominant through and through, don’t expect to ride him unless he’s got full control to just fuck up into you.

He’s needier than you’d expect too. Not just with sex, that’s constant, but also in just having your company. He likes when you talk to him, interact with him, don’t expect to go back into observing from the sidelines. He’s all to happy to give you front row seats.

He’s just as jealous as you are, but he’ll purposely play into your jealousy by flirting with other women to rile you up. He just likes how you look enraged, finds it cute. If you do the same, he’ll make that individual sit tied to a chair while he fucks you in front of them until you can’t even apologize anymore. Then he’ll kill them. He welcomes the same treatment. You get a bit shy acting it out.

Bonnie and Clyde duo!

He’s not a yandere, though he gets jealous, he’s just a psychopath in general. He’ll still be Hisoka no matter what. While you can interact normally with others when necessary, your fixation on him will remain an outlier. Hisoka is just trash to everyone, and surprisingly decent to you. By your low standards.

He likes ice-cream and ice-cream dates. He’s an ice-cream date man.

Illumi doesn’t understand your relationship but respects your devotion. Wonders why more women can’t be like you. Hisoka likes that his friend is envious of what he has.

Enjoy your darling, he’s frustrating and difficult but all yours now!

Dividers by @benkeibear

[hugmekenobi]

A Series of Firsts

A Bad Batch S1 Prequel Oneshot: 'First Meet'

Gif by @imalovernotahater

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: A mission to Devaron sees the Batch meet someone they didn't expect

Warnings: No use of (Y/N), canon-typical violence, awkward Hunter and reader, my limited battle strategy knowledge, minor lies/deceit

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3K

Rating: 18+ (a catch all for all my works)

Author's Note: I'm back! And I'm sorry it's not the work I promised but it helped a lot to just write something I had a clear vision for and this was going to be written at some point anyway! Hope you enjoy!

Devaron

Oh well, the capital city of Montellian Serat had made for a nice home for a while but this siege signalled it was time to move on. This was a part of the life you’d chosen; you couldn’t complain about it.

You had no interest in battles anymore and you couldn’t afford to risk getting involved. They seemed capable enough; you were sure they’d figure it out. The mere fact that the Republic hadn’t felt the need to send more than five troopers told you they had to have some skills when it came to dealing with the remaining handful of droids that had lingered on the planet.

Feeling content with your decision, you made to leave but stopped yourself as you heard the sound of clanking underneath you. You stayed completely still as the battalion of droids passed by bellow you.

“They sure won’t see this coming!”

“Yeah! They had no idea we were going to split our forces like this!”

“Clones… so stupid.”

You waited until it was all clear before you jumped down from the tree you’d been observing from and made a point of ignoring the sound of explosions and blaster fire. Just keep moving. You don’t need this. They don’t need this. Just put one foot in front of the other and keep going. You chanted internally as you worked on shutting out that niggling voice of morality that was insisting you stay and help them out.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to move. The smug and gleeful voices of the droids echoed in your head, and you knew what the right thing to do was. You heaved a sigh and tossed your head back in aggravation before you pulled your hood and mask up.

--

“Do all your missions usually go this well?” Echo asked into the comm as he ran.

“Normally we would have run into some sort of complication by now, but it would seem today is a good day. The battle is not concluded yet, but I suspect it will be momentarily.” Tech replied sensibly.

“I could actually use a challenge; I’m really bored right now.” Crosshair complained from his post.

The celebrations over comms were a normal occurrence but Hunter couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something. He fired off a series of shots to take out a line of droids that were getting a little too close for comfort before he took cover behind a fallen tree.  

“Shouldn’t be much longer now!” Wrecker shouted as he joined him before tossing a grenade over his shoulder. “Tech and Echo are almost there!”

Before Hunter could reply, he felt the vibrations in the ground underfoot and suddenly he realised why this mission had been going a little bit too well. Tech had been right from the start; the battle droids wouldn’t have been able to hold their base with the numbers that met them when they arrived on the planet, but they’d all been too grateful for the fact that it seemed to be the foolish strategy the Separatists were running with to fully question it.

But now it was clear that they were only so low in number because they were circling around the perimeter to come up behind Hunter and Wrecker to catch them off guard.

And the group was scattered which posed a rather big problem.

He and Wrecker had been the main distraction and had been taking the brunt of the battle whilst Crosshair provided Tech and Echo with the cover fire that they needed to get closer and take care of the tactical droid.

Now he was realising that was exactly what the droids wanted.

“Umm, Sarge…” Wrecker said as he saw the rather large battalion of droids coming up behind them.

Hunter pressed his comm but before he could actually give the order for them to regroup, a lone figure emerging from the treeline distracted him and he had never been more grateful for his helmet. The shock he felt as he observed you would’ve been impossible to hide from his brother. He had no idea who you were or where you came from, but he’d never been more grateful for the assistance. He watched on as you took out a line of battle droids with such ease it almost made him think he was imagining it. Their attempts to shoot you down were futile as you avoided them without so much as breaking a sweat before taking them down. And this was all without a blaster- something he knew damn well required a different type of skill and you made it look effortless.

“Woah, who is that?” Wrecker gasped.

“Focus Wrecker,” Hunter cautioned, and he took his own advice, “Tech, Echo, Crosshair, check in.” He ordered sharply as he tore his gaze away from you. Whoever you were, you seemed more than capable of while they took care of the remaining stragglers ahead of them.

“The tactical droid is down. We are ready to get depart.” Tech replied.

“Yeah, well, we’re not!” Wrecker shouted.

“What went wrong?” Echo asked.

“Crosshair, you still want that challenge?” Hunter asked as he shot a droid approaching his right side.

“Oh yes.” Came the reply.

“Then hurry back to our position. The battle isn’t over yet.” Hunter signed off right as Wrecker took care of the last few of the original squadron of droids before they could now get to taking care of the remaining forces.

--

“Who’s the newcomer?” Echo asked as he, Tech and Crosshair finally arrived to help.

“No idea but right now, we just need to focus on getting out of here.” Hunter instructed as he ducked under the arm of an incoming droid and used his dagger to stab it in the head.  

--

Much to your shock, the group of you seemed to work rather well together. Sure, you had a little extra help in knowing where they were going to be and when but overall, you didn’t need to rely on that particular talent as much as you thought you would. It was evident they’d been fighting together for a long time, each of them playing to a strength that seemed specifically tailored to them and there was a certain lack of discipline and carefreeness to their strategy and style that you had to appreciate. All in all, the six of you made rather quick work of the remaining Separatist forces.

When the final dregs of droids were taken care off, you slid your vibroblade dagger back into the strap on your thigh and your self-made vibrosword back into its slip on your back. You would’ve preferred a quick, non-communicative exit but by the way their leader approached you, you had a feeling you weren’t quite going to get that.

“Appreciate the help.” Hunter said sincerely as he sheathed his own dagger and holstered his blaster and walked towards you with the rest of his brothers following in tow.

You merely nodded and awkwardly scuffed your feet and clicked your tongue before you said, “Alright, well, I’m gonna head out. You boys have fun. Good luck with the war and all that.” You swivelled on your heels, but you only made it a couple of paces before the incoming blaster fire you sensed made you stop or otherwise you might’ve lost a couple of toes. You turned around to see one member of the group pointing a sniper rifle in your direction. “Guess not.”

“Who are you?” Crosshair asked suspiciously.

“Who are you?” You countered instead, crossing your arms as you stared down the sharpshooter. You studied the black and red armour and the various skull insignias on each of their different designs. “You’re not regular clones. Your armour is too different, and your fighting styles and tactics are not exactly regulation or typical for Republic clones.”

“Damn right!” Wrecker cheered.

You were caught off guard by the response, but it felt fitting for this group, “What unit are you with?”

“CT-99s.” Hunter replied.

“Defective clones?” You repeated.

“You have both a knowledge of clones and are aware of military procedure and protocol?”

You angled yourself to face the one with a datapad clutched in his hands, “Being surrounded by war means you get to know it pretty well.” You said smoothly- it was only half a lie.

“You fight like you’ve been trained?”

You looked to the one with a scomp for a hand. “Self-taught.” You answered briefly and that was more of a bold-faced lie, but unfortunately, you had gotten used to that by now. “That’s not a crime last time I checked.”

“Depends on who helped you.”

The one that said that had an edge to his voice that did not match the tone of his brother’s, and it made your desire to get out of here that much more urgent. “Look, I was all set to leave but I overheard the droid’s plan and the people here suffered long enough under the Separatist leadership and this war has caused one too many unnecessary deaths. I helped you out simply to avoid that.”

Hunter could tell their interrogation of you was making you uncomfortable and much to his shock, he found that he didn’t want that for you. He stepped between you and the rest of his brothers with his hands raised in a pacifying gesture, “I’m sorry for all the questions. We just don’t usually get Republic aid, let alone outside help.”

“Well, it looked like you were going to need it.” You said and you were surprised to find that his presence and closeness to you was having a strangely calming effect.  

“I should like it pointed out that I said there was a chance the droid army would pull something like this before we started the mission.”

“You weren’t complaining when it meant you and Echo could get your job done quicker.” Wrecker reminded Tech with a punch on the shoulder.

Hunter took off his helmet. “My name is Hunter. I’m the leader of this group.”

To say you were shocked would be an understatement, you practically choked on your saliva as you stared into the deep brown eyes of the clone.  “H-hi.” You said through an embarrassed cough. Why this clone, with his low, husky voice and red bandana and longer hair that stopped just past his neck, evoked this kind of reaction from you, you had no idea, but it was definitely not something you were used to nor expecting. The increased speed of your heartbeat wasn’t helping your smooth recovery either.  

Hunter picked up on your reaction, but he didn’t say anything- he figured you just weren’t expecting to see a clone look so different. He gestured to each of his brothers who followed suit in taking their helmets off. “This is Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair and Echo. We’re the Bad Batch- or Clone Force 99 if you’re feeling more formal.” He added light-heartedly.

You dipped your head in acknowledgment of the others. “So, what makes you defective clones? It can’t just be your appearance.” You asked as you forced yourself to look away from Hunter and speak to his brothers.

Hunter opened his mouth to respond but Tech beat him to it.

“Technically, we’re more deviant that we are defective, but we were made with genetic enhancements. Aside from Echo, we found him like this.” Tech explained as he adjusted his goggles, “I have an exceptional mind, Crosshair is our sharpshooter, Wrecker is our muscle and demolitions expert, and Hunter has enhanced senses.”

Great, enhanced senses. Way to make it harder to conceal your idiotic reaction. You thought in embarrassment. You pressed your lips together and nodded tightly, "Alright, glad we got that all sorted. I'm just going to-"

But Hunter wasn't quite ready to let you leave yet, "And you are?" He asked leadingly. You hid behind your face coverings and he wanted to know more about the person who had helped them out what would’ve been a rather rough situation. Or at minimum he’d just take your name.

As much as you didn't want to do this, you knew you had very little choice and the longer you avoided any introduction, the more suspicious it looked. You took a deep breath and took down your hood and mask and introduced yourself.

Seeing the way that you fought was hard enough, but now he had a face to put to your name and ability and words suddenly felt much harder to form, “Uh- you- we- you fight well.” And he internally cringed at himself as soon as he finished. Could he have sounded anymore lame?

“Thank you?” You said, furrowing your brow slightly as you sensed his own energy shift.

Meanwhile, the rest of them were too stunned to do anything but watch. They’d never seen their brother behave like that- he was usually very cool and collected.

“You don’t fight with a blaster?” Tech queried curiously as he broke the uncomfortable silence first.

“Don’t like them very much.” You said non-informatively.

“How did you make such a weapon?”

“Melted a bunch of vibroblades together. It wasn’t that complicated.”

“But do you not find that in a battle scenario-”

“I think I do alright.” You interrupted with a half-smile.

“More than.” Hunter agreed before he could stop himself and he swiftly averted his gaze from you as he cleared his throat to recentre himself before he asked, “Where are you headed?”

“Anywhere away from here.”

“You’re not local?”

You faced the clone you now knew to be Echo. “No. I move around a lot. Figured I’d just hop on the next shuttle and see where I end up.”

“We can take you where you need to go. Or-um- if you fancy sticking around, we could use someone like you with us.” Hunter offered before he really realised what he was suggesting.

You regarded him carefully. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously?” Crosshair repeated with a questioning look at his brother.

Hunter ignored his brother and directed his response towards you, “You’re clearly a very capable fighter and you fit right in when we were dealing with those droids.” He held his hand out to you, “What do you say?” And if he was being honest, a rather large part of him was hoping you would say yes.

This is a terrible idea. You were avoiding Republic fighters for a reason. Say no. Refuse. Walk away and don’t look back. No, don’t shake his hand… “Sure.” You stupidly found yourself saying before you clasped his hand, but the contact immediately stole the breath from your lungs. Everything you sensed both within and around you shifted as you locked eyes with his and let his touch take a temporary hold of you.

Hunter’s breath hitched as he felt your grip and he couldn’t bring himself to break away from you yet. He hadn’t experienced anything like this before, but it was like all the tension and adrenaline from the battle left his body in this single moment as he touched your hand.

You withdrew your hand quickly and willed the strange tingling in your veins to do the same. You had no idea why that happened, but it was certainly the last thing you needed or wanted.

“Um- we- our ship is over-” Hunter half pointed in the general direction of where he could vaguely remember the ship being because it would seem you rendered him an unintelligible mess for the second time today and he had no clue as to why this kept happening. It was honestly quite concerning, and he needed to get a grip.

“I’ll find you.” You said hastily before you turned and hurried away. What had truly shocked you was that the sensations you’d experienced upon meeting him hadn’t been accompanied by anything like you’d been taught. And though it had been something you’d challenged, you still expected part of it to be true only there was nothing there. You didn’t feel fear or darkness. You only felt light and that threw you for a loop which was a relief in a way because that explained why you’d acted to bizarrely- it had been a while since anything had genuinely surprised you- that was all this had to be.

--

Hunter watched you go for he realised there were four pairs of eyes staring at him. “What?” Hunter asked shiftily as he saw the combined teasing and pointed looks that he was getting from his brothers.

“You’ve got some drool there.” Crosshair said with a smirk.

“Shut up.” Hunter said tightly. “She had nowhere to go and she’s a hell of fighter. We could use her help.”

“Uh huh.” Crosshair replied, tone heavy with scepticism.

“Your reasoning makes sense, but it is still highly irregular for you to offer a spot like that without consulting the rest of us.” Tech pointed out.

“Okay, you’re right about that. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you all first,” Hunter acknowledged, “But what do you think?”

“I think she’s running from something, but she could’ve run from us and not helped you and she didn’t. That says something. Plus, I don’t want to be the new guy anymore.” Echo said diplomatically, “It’s fine by me.”

“I’ll agree that her skills could be useful.” Tech said in agreement.

“I’m in!” Wrecker said enthusiastically.

“Crosshair?” Hunter asked his brother who was tending to the scope of his rifle.

“I’m outvoted regardless of what I say.” Crosshair replied with a shrug.

“You think it’s a bad idea?” Hunter asked.

“Never said that. I think she can fight well, and she’ll be an asset, sure. I just don’t want you losing your head.”

“You don’t need to worry about that, Crosshair. This is purely a strategy call.” Hunter said, hoping saying it out loud would reassure him as well because one thing was certain, you had an effect on him that he hadn’t expected and he wasn’t sure how temporary it really was.

--

You found the ship with little difficulty and saw Hunter waiting by the steps of their ship which seemed to be a modified Omicron-class attack shuttle.  

“Ready to go?” Hunter asked and he hoped you couldn’t pick up on the relief in his voice as he saw you emerge.

“As I’ll ever be.” You answered, shifting the strap of your bag to disguise your nerves.

“Welcome aboard The Marauder!” Wrecker said merrily as you stepped inside.

“Thanks.” You said and you managed to give the clone a sincere smile. The inside of the ship seemed to match the personality of the group- a bit chaotic but everything had their place- and anything else would’ve felt wrong.

“You do not have a bunk or much by the way of living quarters and I do not expect we will have much time to sort it out in the near future.” Tech informed you as he warmed up the ship’s engines.

“I’ll be fine.” You replied.

Tech swivelled back in the seat and got the ship ready to depart.

“What’s next, Hunter?” Echo asked.

“We’ve got a mission waiting for us on Felucia.”

“Goody.” Crosshair said wryly as he put a toothpick in his mouth and looked to you, “Ready for your first Republic battle? Not going to ditch us at the first sign of a real fight, are you?”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” You responded coolly and although you’d debated just leaving them, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were tired of not helping people, of all the cutting and running you’d done in the recent months but there’d been a very good reason for that and now you were putting yourself right back in the thick of it all. And this time, it was going to be much harder to keep your secret, but it was vital that you did– you couldn’t go back there, and you were sure that would happen if they found out- or at the very least it would change everything and that was the last thing you wanted.

“Here, I can take that.” Hunter said quietly to you as the ship left the atmosphere and entered hyperspace.

You nodded your head in thanks and found yourself staring at his back as he walked away from you and that shift, you’d felt came back again only this time it was accompanied by guilt. He’d opened up his squad and home to you with nothing, but sincerity and you knew you hadn’t matched that expectation. This decision you’d made wasn’t something you could easily undo but you couldn’t bring yourself to unveil yourself of it yet– you knew your teachings and what you needed so you could only hope whatever unusual feelings and thoughts you’d initially experienced for this clone would fade or the fact that you were making this choice to join them with this secret wouldn’t come back to haunt you.

Next Prequel Oneshot>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @moonychicky, @notgonnaedit, @arctrooper69, @dizzy-9906 , @thegreymarveljedi , @nightmonkeysstuff , @allthingsimagines , @jellybeanstacey0519 , @callsign-denmark , @superbookishhufflepuff , @qvnthesia , @justsomerandompersonintheworld , @ooostarwarsfandom501st

[nightwonder7]

Okay but thought about the 'Alice comforts hunter Norton when he gets kited the entire match' thing. Norton (obviously) tries not to target Alice, at least as first chase, and the other survivors easily pick up on this. So, whenever they get matched with Alice and Fool's Gold, they stick to Alice and try to use her as a shield to avoid getting hit (Norton doesn't want to hurt Alice anymore than he needs to). Eventually, this leads to one of two outcomes: 1. Norton just gives up and goes friendly whenever it happens because he's too exhausted to try avoiding Alice and still hunt the other survivors 2. He gets SUPER angry that the other survivors would dare try to use Alice like that, so he (as gently as possible) downs Alice to get her out of the way, then unleashes the wrath of a thousand suns eliminating the other survivors (or he just leaves them to bleed out while he apologizes to Alice and the two spend time together).

Oh man, that would have been a tricky situation for Norton, indeed XD All this time he's been treating Alice special during the matches, and now the others are starting to pick up on it and use it to their advantage. I feel like Norton would be more inclined to pick the rage path tbh. Maybe he'd give up only if he was very exhausted...

But seeing the others having the audacity to hide behind Alice so they can't get hurt would tick him off. Cause if he were to swing, she'd be the one to take the brunt of it. In other words, they'd sacrifice her if it meant they would be unscathed. That would infuriate him. He wants to hunt them down, not Alice. I think he'd try to grab her and remove her from the situation before going ham on the others.

Meanwhile, Alice doesn't want Norton to hurt anyone, nor does she want the others to get hurt. She knows it's limited how much she can interfere with Norton's role as a hunter, but whenever she can, she'll try and find him, get his attention and coax him into a corner of the map. There, she'll distract him long enough for the others to escape.

[evolutionsvoid]

While the hair fields offer valuable resources for any household or village, like any wild place, one should be wary of danger. Even in a place as luscious as this, caution should be taken. For stalking these fields are predators, with one of the most common being the Razorbacks. These large fleas are on the hunt for prey, using their thin bodies to slip through the thick hairs with ease. They are quiet and they are fast, usually traveling in packs of three to five. Usual targets are beasts like the field louse and demodon, which they sneak up on and take down in a flash. Their powerful hind limbs allow them to pounce with great speed and strength, and their modified fore limbs are like giant fangs to pierce prey. They typically try to blindside their target and attack where they cannot reach. For the likes of demodons, they try to get them from the side, targeting between the rows of legs so that these large limbs block the brunt of the spiny tail's attempts to thrash them.

Their weapons and numbers make them efficient hunters, and their packs are highly coordinated to pull off these attacks. Pack leaders are typically signified by having the largest bladed crest upon their back, usually grown due to receiving more food than the others. These same sharp growths can also serve as weapons in a pinch, particularly against predators who would threaten them. They will launch themselves at their foe and spin their bodies, turning them into a razor disc that can cleave deep into flesh. Due to the spinning and the use of their own body as a projectile, their aim is not the greatest. This is why it isn't used for hunting and more for fighting off attackers, as often the mere threat of being sawed in half by this is enough to drive away foes, which means they don't have to land the hit for it to be effective.

As predators who can down a variety of prey, Razorbacks don't hesitate to put man on the menu if there are no better options. Obviously a nice juicy demodon would feed them for far longer, but one doesn't always have the luxury to be picky. Thus, folk who go into these fields to harvest keratin or eggs need to be wary and armed. Keep an eye on the hair, and watch for any movements that don't match the natural flow. With a sharp eye, you may be able to spot the tips of their blades poking out in shorter patches. If one does suspect they are being stalked by Razorbacks: do not panic and do not run. They are counting on fear driving prey to blind escape, and they are most certainly faster than you. Instead, have your group go back to back, so that you have no blind spots. If they charge, stand your ground, as it is often a fake out that is meant to make you run. Stand tall, try to make yourself look bigger and make a ton of noise. Razorbacks rely on ambush and striking weak points to drop prey, so if this stealth and surprise is taken away from them, they are less likely to attack. And if you are by yourself in the hair field without anyone to watch your back.....well that was a mistake you shouldn't have made today.

Though Razorbacks tend to be seen as scary predators of these fields, there have been instances where they can be trained as hunting companions. Beastmasters obviously are capable of such a feat, but some more regular folk have been able to rear them from larvae and develop a partnership. With strong senses, quick speed and sharp blades, they serve well as trackers and ambushers. Some fools have suggested that trained Razorbacks are finer hunters than hyaenas, which may be true in some areas, but one must remember that these bugs are not fully domesticated like those beasts. As social creatures in need of a pack leader, there can be times where even trained Razorbacks begin to wonder about their status in this strange "pack." Running into others of their kind may awaken a need within them, or the stumbling of their owner may present an opportunity of "advancement..."

------------------

"Razorback"

Alright, last of the hair field denizens! For now at least. Also, this is like round two or three of me turning fleas into wolves.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Gentle Hands

Back on Kamino after successfully rescuing Echo and retaking Anaxes, you know just how to soothe Wrecker’s lingering back pain.

Pairing: Wrecker x f!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: established relationship, pet names, little bit of angst and comfort, flashback to how Wrecker got his scars, minor mentions of blood, fluff, soft love, light sprinkle of the hots for this giant mans size/strength, slight suggestiveness.

A/N: saw a headcannon that Wrecker doesn’t have a cybernetic eye and is instead partially/fully blind in that eye, and now I can’t get that out of my head.

Translations: ner kar'ta – my heart

“Urgh.” Wrecker’s grunt echoes through the barracks as he flops face-first onto his bunk. You’d just arrived back on Kamino from Anaxes, another successful mission accomplished and a new squad member onboard.

Tech had disappeared off with Echo in search of better armour and weapons for the ARC Trooper. Crosshair had slunk off in the direction of the shooting range – not that he needed the practice - while Hunter had remained on the Marauder, needing the peace of the empty ship to finish his mission reports.

That had left you and Wrecker alone, and your man had wanted nothing more than to nap.

“At least take your armour off first.” You gently nudge Wrecker’s shoulder, earning a grumble of protest. He pushes himself up, big hands prying his armour off his body, depositing it with various clangs beside his bunk. You loved him, but Maker above, he could be messy.

Back on the bed, face pressed into the mattress, Wrecker winced, feeling a tweak in his lower back. “Babe…” He called for you, turning his head to watch you take your armour off, stacking it neatly on the large table in the middle of the room.

His gaze roved across your body, admiring the soft curves of your frame as you turned back to him, hands on your hips and an eyebrow arched. He couldn’t help but feel lucky to have you. You’d started as their civilian handler, feeding them missions and making sure they came back safely – the Kaminoans couldn’t have anything happen to their prized experimental unit, after all – but somewhere along the way, you’d stolen his heart, with your soft smile and easy nature. You laughed at his jokes, stayed up to watch holofilms with him, cooed over Lula the first time you saw her, and were always happy to hand over a detonator or two when he had the urge to blow something up. At times, you tempered the big kid in him, while other times, you let go of the reins and let him run wild.

“Yes, ner kar’ta?” You ask, taking a few steps over to his bunk. For the sake of appearances, you had your own bunk, though it was never used. The rest of the squad knew of your relationship, but it was a well-guarded secret, not wanting to risk the Kaminoans finding out.

As you draw closer, Wrecker drags an arm out from underneath him to gently snag your hand, tugging you in. He’d always been hyper-aware of his size and strength, but he was especially cautious with you. Hurting you was something he never wanted to do, even if it was an accident.

“Think I’ve tweaked my back,” Wrecker admits, offering you a sheepish smile.

You can’t help but smile in return, the corners of your lips curving as your loveable giant gives your hand a soft squeeze. For a moment, you admire him, still in awe that he’s yours. But as usual, a flicker of guilt passes through you as your traitorous eyes slink to the web of scars across half his face, his damaged ear, and the milkiness of his right eye. It was your fault he was partially blind.

You’d only been with the boys a handful of months when you’d missed a tripwire as you’d been pushing forward through a cave, setting off a nearby explosive. You’d been out in the open while the others could duck for cover. Wrecker had decided to protect you, turning you and pressing you to his chest, shielding you from the blast, taking the brunt of it himself. The memory of the dust settling, the blood as you pulled back from his chest and looked up, the panic and fear that had consumed you as you’d taken in the damage he’d sustained right before he passed out... all because you’d forgotten for one moment to look where you were stepping.

He’d been medevaced to a nearby Venator. You’d gone with him, his brothers insisting on it while they finished the mission, knowing it would upset Wrecker if they lost their 100% success rate. Washing his blood off your hands in a small fresher as you waited for news from the medics almost broke you. You’d been so close to handing in your resignation and retreating back to your quiet home planet.

But then he’d woken after surgery, after his brothers had successfully completed the mission and returned, and you’d all been briefed on his condition. His first questions to the medics had been about you – were you safe or hurt? Tears had rolled down your cheeks as the medics had relayed this to you all, Tech subtly pressing a tissue into your hand, and you’d known then in your heart that you could never leave.

“You’re doin’ that thing again,” Wrecker says, having watched a faraway look cross your face. He knew you still struggled with the guilt of his accident. “You’re thinkin’ too much.” He tacks on, gently bringing you down to sit sideways on the edge of his bunk, big arm sliding around your middle. “I don’t blame ya. It was my choice, and I’d do it all again.” He reiterates, pressing a kiss to your body. He said it every time he saw you slipping back into the memory, and he’d keep repeating it until you believed it. 

Pulled back to the present, you offer him a soft smile, one of your hands moving to rub across his broad shoulders. “Sorry, ner kar’ta.” You murmur, focussing instead on the quiet noise of delight falling from his lips as your hands stroke his tense muscles. “Those tri-droids are probably the cause of your back pain.” You comment, watching his eyes flutter shut at your touch, the peacefulness of his expression chasing away the lingering guilt.

“They were stronger than they looked, but I wasn’t gonna let ’em crush the locals.” He comments, feeling himself melt into the mattress the more you rub at his shoulders.

You loved seeing him work, the effortless way he shoved assault tanks around or pried blast doors open, lifting up gunships like they weighed nothing, and how his thick fingers somehow nimbly managed to disarm explosives. “It was hot.” You admit, feeling warmth in your cheeks.

A rumble of laughter leaves him, the deep noise setting off butterflies in your belly, but he winces again as it jostles his back.

“Here.” You shift, gently easing the top of his blacks up. He helps you remove the garment, settling back on the bed as your hands return to his body. Broad shoulders taper down to his narrow waist, scars crisscrossing his warm, tanned skin. Evidence of a lifetime of war.

You get up momentarily, moving silently to your bunk to snag your unscented lotion – constantly aware of Hunter’s senses – and return to Wrecker a moment later. He shifts over, and you sit at his side, squeezing some of the lotion onto your hands. Rubbing them together, you warm them up before you press your hands against his back, dragging them across his body in firm, even strokes.

Wrecker’s moans of appreciation fill the barracks, and you stifle a giggle. Your hands keep working across his body, feeling solid muscles give with every pass, the knots loosening. Pressing your thumbs into his lower back, he grunts, hips rutting against the mattress. “Not until your back is better.” You tease, giving his butt a playful swat.

He grumbles in protest but knows you’re right – he’s too tired for anything anyway. The ache in his back is easing exponentially under your soothing touch, and he smacks his lips together as sleep beckons him, shifting on the mattress into an even comfier position.

The first drag of your nails across his warm skin makes him shiver, the corners of his mouth curving upwards as you start lightly scratching, fingers drawing patterns across the vast expanse of skin. The patterns shift to words, Aurebesh spelling out how much you love him, how handsome he is, how strong he is.

“I love you. You’re so good to me.” He mumbles, feeling the weight of your adoration, his eyes heavy with sleep, his mind struggling to focus on the words you’re scrawling across his body.

A warm smile passes over your lips, and you dip down to kiss his cheek softly. “I love you too.” You whisper back, fingers still moving lightly over his back as you hear his breathing turn deep and heavy, face going slack as he falls asleep.

You scoot to lay beside him, drawing his arm over your body. A nap wouldn’t hurt you, either.

[kastalani123]

Trials of Ares: TTC

(Mortal Ares in SoM)

Ares spends the time between SoM and TTC throwing himself into way too much training, trying to compensate for his weak body and newfound limits. Everyone, including those not too fond of him, keeps trying to get him to stop because it just lands him in the infirmary over and over again and they honestly think it's pathetic to see him constantly sporting bandages and bruises (he can't even get ambrosia/nectar-powered super-healing) in an attempt to regain his godly prowess, unattainable by a mortal. He does not comply with doctor's orders, because he has to be able to protect himself and his allies, you know? Or at least be capable of putting up a fight. It doesn't matter how beaten he gets so long as he stands back up until he is physically incapable of moving again.

Annabeth has gotten over her initial inklings of pity and now just feels pissed every time Lee comes to get her because Ares will not stop even though he's about to cause serious permanent damage to himself and she's the only one who can force him to stop without further harming him.

His kids are conflicted. On one hand, they get the need to constantly train and fight, the need to push as far beyond the limits of their bodies as they can manage. On the other... there's a crazed, glazed look in his eyes when blood and sweat pour down his face, as if he's not really seeing what's in front of him, and his battle screams seem tinged with hysteria. It's a little like he's unravelling at the seams, each forgotten memory and unfamiliar softness of his body sending him further and further into a frenzy.

He always seems normal enough when he cheers them on, though. Not any worse with his threats than any of his children. It's odd. They're not sure how to deal with their father, always shaking with rage, seemingly never aiming the brunt of that rage on them.

Anyways.

He goes to Westover Hall because, again, tied to Annabeth. Also, Chiron thinks it's a good idea to get him away from the arena. He doesn't think Ares's young, mortal fingers can handle being split any longer, they need a moment to build up calluses. So, off he goes. Sally worries over him, as moms do. He doesn't know what to do with it, because he wouldn't dare blow up at a mother, but he hardly knows how else to react to concern. He just. Freezes for most of the ride. Annabeth probably told him not to say anything stupid, anyways.

He tries to attack Thorn the moment he realizes he's a monster. He gets in a decent hit, but is quickly tossed aside and breaks a rib or two (and doesn't tell anyone; no revealing weaknesses here!).

His feelings about Annabeth's kidnapping are... odd. Externally he is, obviously, enraged, though seemingly because he lost the fight with Thorn more than anything else. He even laughs a bit, about how no one can boss him around anymore! But he's a bit more jumbled up inside; he's gotten annoyingly attached to the brat, and not being able to piss her off a bit because she's not there grates on him more than he expected.

Artemis's presence is met with mutual insults. Artemis digs at his weakness, probably roughs him up a bit in a small fight, but ultimately pays him little mind; Ares pulls out insults he doesn't particularly mean, just trying to piss her off despite not having his rage-bait-aura because he wants a fight, damn it, he needs to release all his rage despite his body aching, and who better to do it on than a direct connection to their Father? Suffice it to say, the Hunters really don't like him within like. Two minutes.

When Nico realizes that he's the Ares, he bombards him with questions; Ares blows up a bit, essentially telling the kid to back off, then goes to sulk and try and figure out his ribs. Bianca tries to follow him, because his fall really didn't look good, but he blows her off too. Both the Hunters and Percy tell the siblings to try and avoid him because he's not worth the effort. Bianca... decides to take this as a little challenge, later.

Apollo makes fun of Ares, commenting on his appearance and powerlessness and how mortality isn't all that bad, Apollo's gone through this punishment twice before, can Ares really not handle it? He probably also talks about sending Ares on some errands, now that he's mortal and has to listen to him. Thalia's too stressed to care, the Hunters laugh along, Percy feels complicated because it's essentially bullying but also he still doesn't like Ares all that much, and Grover and the di Angelo's feel bad for him because do you really need to beat down a kid who's already bruised and bloodied and fuming enough?

Ares is essentially considered an extension of Annabeth, and therefore brought along on the quest as a sixth at Chiron's request, despite Zoë's hatred of the idea. Maybe there's a mention of him in the prophecy, I'm not sure, but regardless, he's on the quest legitimately because he needs to help his master. On one hand, he despises this, because he hates being told what to do. On the other, it's once again a fight and a chance to regain his divinity. Though, honestly, a major reason for how determined he is about the quest is that his sister got taken and he does not take that well. It only get worse when he gets the same dream Percy did about Artemis holding up the sky because damn it, no one's allowed to touch his family. He has learned that trying to rush the quest doesn't end well for him, but he's definitely on edge, though he won't let anyone know why.

Bianca is very determined to find out, though. She's got that sibling need to dig into others' business, and though she's trying to distance herself from "babysitting" others, it's a bit hard when there's a brooding kid her age around. She decides it's still a form of rebellion, since everyone keeps telling her not to talk to him. She gets snappy at him, because he is uniquely talented at pissing people off, and they're both surprised when she fires back at him. They both like it, though, and start exchanging barbs; Ares likes having someone to fight who doesn't back down or get too annoyed/bored to continue, and Bianca is giddy with glee that she's being mean. Zoë is. Not supportive of this newfound friendship, but Bianca says she's keeping Ares in check and Ares will be damned if he lets go of his newest little sister-kid.

Bianca is kind of the start of Ares's character development. Most others will either refuse to engage with him or make him shut up/walk away before he gets to anything concrete. Bianca, filled with the pent-up rage of a parentified older sister, refuses, because this is something she's choosing to do for herself, in spite of what those around her say; even her joining the Hunt was prompted by others, but this is entirely her own. She drags genuine emotions from Ares's mouth like she's pulling teeth, gets him to admit that he's worried for Artemis, and repays it with her own concerns about Nico. They bond over being the self-designated "protectors" of the family and being determined to be eternally strong. Ares has already signed the gods damned adoption papers.

And then she dies.

Ares. Does not take this well. He decimates Talos with a godly power-up, desperate to find her; the others cannot pull him away until he does, crushed in metal and burned with electricity. He begs her to wake up but, of course, she doesn't, so he curses out Zeus and Thanatos: Zeus because he's the reason Ares is mortal and got attached; Thanatos because she should have gotten to be picked up by him and not his sisters, the Keres, and can Thanatos not repay his debt to Ares for the Sisyphus thing by being the one to take Bianca, at least?

This is the first time Percy sees through Ares's rage. He has no idea what to do with this, because he is a child and grieving Bianca himself; he decides to process Ares being an actual, multi-faceted person later, when they're not on a quest to save Annabeth and Artemis.

(Also! In his encounter with Aphrodite, he's caught off-guard by her expressing what seems to be genuine concern and feeling for Ares, especially when she tells him to pass on her love and that she misses him, along with a dog tag and a Polaroid picture of her with four young men. He does not, initially, caught up in the quest and digesting their conversation. He will backtrack and correct this later)

Grover also finally manages to get through the stench of rage constantly surrounding Ares and finds the softer grief and worry. He tries to take Bianca's spot of trying to get Ares to talk things through, but after his teeth are almost knocked out, he decides Ares needs a bit of space first. It can wait at least until they get back to the safety of Camp. He's not letting up after the quest is done, though, he vows.

Hoover Dam calms him a little, when they start exchanging little facts about it. He complains about Annabeth ranting about it so much that even he absorbed the knowledge, but is actually grateful for the distraction. He's pissed in a jealous way that Zeus answers Thalia's prayer, though. He doubts he'd ever get that much attention from their Father, and it's fine, really. He doesn't care. Why would he care about familial validation? He hasn't had it in millennia, there's nothing to it. He's fine.

He absolutely freaks out about Bessie. He's also baffled Percy isn't smitten on the spot. He almost kills Bessie himself, in fear of anyone else getting to him first, but lets him be taken to Camp instead.

He totally has a panic attack about the lightning that strikes their car. Thalia realizes something is off, but they don't have the time to deal with it at the moment, so she brushes it off.

Percy and Thalia have to physically hold Ares back from attacking Atlas when he sees Artemis holding the sky and Annabeth gagged. Atlas orders Annabeth to command Ares to not attack him; he's not too concerned about Ares attacking him, especially as a mortal, but it's always one less pest to deal with. She complies.

So he goes for the sky.

I know Percabeth's shared grey streaks are iconic, but Ares is the one who takes the sky from Artemis here. She tries to refuse, because he's mortal, he will die, and regardless of his hated status, she does not want to watch him die, in the end. Ares yells at her, that just because he's mortal doesn't mean he can't handle this, he's still the god of war and her older brother whether she likes it or not. Begrudgingly, he adds that they both know he can't currently rival Atlas in power, but she can, with her trickery. She defeated the Aloadae when he couldn't, so she better give him the sky right now and go fight.

She does.

It is like the pain of all the soldiers he has ever led to war has decided to explode across his body.

(And yes, he is still dealing with previous injuries he has not gotten treated. It's very fun for him. He totally develops chronic pain and adjacent ailments throughout the books, if he wasn't sent down to Earth already with them)

He collapses almost the moment Atlas takes the sky back. The demigods have to help him get up and over to Artemis and Zoë, and Artemis has a bit of panic over who to be more worried about, but Ares makes her shift her focus to Zoë because he's fine, really.

He's not dying, at least.

She does turn her attention on him after Zoë's turned into stars, and finally someone realizes he's been injured for a bit. She yells at him about knowing his limits and not hiding his weak spots from allies because they need to know about them so they can cover for them, then does what she can to heal him up a bit before heading to Olympus. This is the first time in the story that she calls him "brother" in a genuine way, though. It takes away from the worried rage that's been keeping him from passing out and he just. Deflates and drops from exhaustion and pain.

He sleeps through the winter solstice meeting. Maybe Zeus keeps him as such, to keep the other Olympians from thinking of him too much; he doesn't want him returned yet, and if Ares shows up in front of everyone right then, the others might argue. So, he sleeps; Apollo probably squirrelled him away to his infirmary or something along those lines.

Once they're back at Camp, Ares finally taking a bit of a break to heal up, Percy passes on the message from Aphrodite, and the dog tag and photo. Ares immediately puts the dog tag chain on and tucks it beneath his shirt; it's the most precious one of his collection, with a curly Harmonia engraved on it, atypical as the format is. The photo, he almost crushes in his grip as he stares at it, before pocketing it with a gruff thank you. After this quest, the TLT trio grows a bit more patience with him, and he ever-so-slowly softens his aggression; there's still a long journey ahead of them, but the trio can now admit some fondness for him, and he stops arguing about everything they say and do.

Ares goes with Percy to talk to Nico but it doesn't change much; honestly, it might make it worse, because, mortal as he is, Ares is a god, he is meant to be powerful enough to protect those around him if he wishes to, so clearly he didn't want to save Bianca. Ares is kind of devastated by Nico running away, because he was hoping he could look after him for Bianca, similar to Percy, but Nico wants absolutely nothing to do with him. He swears he will find him, though, and make up for Bianca's death.

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

Me, vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass: I wanted a Koby-and-Luffy-Childhood-Friends AU and that turned into a Koby-grows-up-with-the-ASL-brothers AU and THAT turned into me imagining Koby still becoming a marine (Garp is THRILLED TO TEARS. Ace and Luffy give him a lot of grief for it but they're still lowkey proud of him) and one day, completely by chance, he stumbles across the Chief Of Staff Of The Revolutionary Army.

Wanted posters for the Revolutionary Army aren't passed around like the posters for pirates and criminals are, because it's actually very common for a would-be bounty hunter to get recruited to the cause if they seek them out, and the government doesn't want that, so only ranked officers are allowed to actually have them. And Koby, who recently made rank, did find himself staring for a very long time at the slightly blurry black-and-white picture of Sabo(?), Rank Unknown -- but a picture doesn't do a face justice, and he's been carrying that ghost with him for years, so he ultimately set it aside. Told himself not to wish for impossible things.

Only to, less than a week later, end up helping Sabo (Sabo, it's Sabo, holy shit it's Sabo) escape from a marine base. Koby will go to the gallows for this if he gets caught, but both of his other sworn brothers are pirates. He became a marine knowing that if he had to make the choice, he would chose family over duty. Granted, he didn't expect to have to make that choice for at least another few years, but here we are.

The two don't speak much -- there isn't time. Koby gives hushed orders and Sabo whispers clarifying questions and they breathe warnings back and forth, both of them stretching their observation Haki as far as it will go as they tiptoe out of the base.

This boy feels familiar. Sabo can't explain it, but he felt it the second he laid eyes on this young captain. The pink hair, the big eyes. It's worse now that they're standing right next to each other, Haki signatures pressed so close together it's impossible to ignore. This boy feels like feathers and steel, like something soft and warm and earnest wrapped around a core that is solid and steady and unfaltering. He is the waves that erode the shore, patient and gentle but inevitable in their quest for change. Sabo shouldn't be able to read the soul of a stranger this clearly, but he can, somehow. It feels good next to his own roiling storm clouds and piercing cliffs, it feels grounding, but he can't help the strange thought that there should be fire and forest here, somehow. There should be sunlight.

The boy feels familiar, and Sabo hates that he is the one following behind. Which is stupid, because he doesn't know where they're going and obviously the one who does should take the lead, but every corner they turn and patrol they dodge has the spaces between his shoulderblades winding tighter. He wants the captain tucked safely behind him, with Sabo in the lead where he can take the brunt of whatever danger they face. This, too, is strange.

They make it out of the base and down to the docs, where Koby gets Sabo set up -- the guards change shift in thirteen minutes, if Sabo waits there'll be an opening for him to steal a boat and get out of here -- and Sabo takes the opportunity to ask "Are you... sympathetic to the cause?"

The boy stills.

"You aren't on our books, is all. I don't recognize you as an officer. If this is you looking to join, I'm afraid I don't have time to vet you right now, but I can arrange for you to meet with a recruiter--"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" It comes out a hoarse, furious whisper. Koby wants to scream.

Sabo blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"Is that how you justified it? Oh, it's been so long, they probably forgot about me? Is that what you told yourself?" He needs to keep quiet, he needs to get back inside before he's noticed missing, they can't do this right now -- "Or maybe you just figured out of sight out of mind, right? Since clearly that worked out fine for you!"

Koby waves a hand up and down Sabo, a gesture meant to encompass -- this! All of this. His fading grin and his fancy coat and his fucking wanted poster.

"Chief of Staff. That's impressive. I'm not surprised you're some big shot, it suits you. Are you having fun, Sabo? Is your grand adventure treating you well?"

"I don't know what --" but Koby can't let him talk, because Koby can't breathe, because Sabo is here and he's alive and he's acting like Koby is a stranger to him and if Koby doesn't spit out the words he's suddenly choking on then he's going to collapse into screaming sobs instead and they can't afford that right now.

"Let me guess, secret identities? Code names? It's all so hush-hush, so cloak-and-dagger, you were sworn to secrecy? I don't care. I don't fucking care what reasons you used to justify letting us think you were dead! For ten years! It was selfish, Sabo. It was cruel. And I--" He gasps. Coughs. Sucks in a heavy breath until the salt of the sea breeze settles in his lungs and he can tell himself the wetness on his face is ocean spray. "We mourned you. Ace and Luffy are still mourning you. Dadan and the bandits and Makino and Gramps. Everyone, all of us -- we have all been carrying this grief and you just--!"

Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay quiet. "If this is the life you want, then okay. Okay. But don't you stand there and pretend I'm a stranger to you, and expect me to play along. Don't you do that to me. Not to me."

[scoobydoodean]

Do you have siblings, and what order are you in?

How do you view and feel about Sam running away multiple times, and then in 5.16 Sam running away are the only memories he's given? (and do you think angels did that purposefully?)

I am the younger of two and I understand how Sam can run away and how it would only be about getting away from their, but that Dean would feel the brunt of it all. But I can totally imagine my older sibling understanding Dean, but not necessarily Sam's pov.

I also don't think Sam's reasoning is ever fully explained, at least in 5.16, it makes him seem much more selfish and uncaring. I think he assumed Dean was better equipped to handle living with their dad alone simply because he behaved, it just happened to be that Dean and dad were linked - and I don't really know how much they talked about their relationship with their dad till they were older.

I wonder if Dean ever would've considered leaving John and living somewhere near Sam, or even running away with Sam.

I have three siblings. I'm in the middle. Two older siblings and the caboose is 7 years younger than me. So I remember what it's like to be the baby but I also know what it's like to play older sibling to a sibling several years younger than me. My younger brother and I are also very close.

If this was all prompted by my comment the other day that I wasn't looking forward to watching "Dark Side of the Moon", I don't dislike the episode because it shows Sam running off. I do have issues with the episode, but a large part of my distaste for it is that it is generally very depressing. It being depressing in of itself isn't a criticism of the episode—it's supposed to be depressing because it's about total loss of hope and belief for Dean (and then Cas as well losing hope at the end of the episode). It's doing what it's supposed to do in that sense. It's just hard to watch. Unfortunately, a lot of people take the bleakness of it and the idea that Dean is a burden and etc as truth and not manipulation meant to drive him to say "yes", and that also makes me rather sour about it.

I don't care that Sam wanted to go to college, or that he was happy at another family's thanksgiving at one point in his life. The Flagstaff memory bothers me a little because Sam's fond recollection of it, unmarred by any negative associations, clearly suggests he didn't face any consequences for running off once John found him. The fact that he never even into his adult life considered that Dean might have faced consequences does feel rather self-centered, and that's on purpose. I don't care that Sam went to school or that there were points as a kid where he wanted to run off.

I do disagree with the premise that Sam still desires some normal core Thanksgiving. I simply don't think that would be a favorite memory for Sam anymore. Just a few episodes prior to this, in "Swap Meat", Sam sat down with someone else's family for a normal, family dinner and he hated it. He found Gary's parents absolutely obnoxious. He told Gary afterward that he envied his life, only to turn to Dean and say he lied.

SAM I totally lied. That kid's life sucked ass. All that apple-pie, family crap? It's stressful. Trust me – we didn't miss a damn thing.

Or observe earlier in the episode:

DEAN You ever think that you'd want something like that? Wife, rugrats, the whole nine? SAM No, not really my thing anymore.

In fact, it's Dean who envies the normal life in "Swap Meat" and several other episodes (ex: 2.20, 4.19) whereas Sam indicates several times that a normal life is not something he wants (2.02, 2.10, 2.20, 4.08, 4.19, 5.12). In 4.08 and in 2.20, Sam in fact overtly states that he would not go back and choose a normal life now if he could go back. In 3.01, 4.19, and in 5.06, Sam also heavily emphasizes the importance of family within the hunting dynamic. I track a lot of this within the tag #sam the hunter.

I think there is a strong argument to be made that Zachariah ran them through heaven like rats in a maze in 5.16, directing them toward certain memories and not others in order to make Dean believe that Sam doesn't care for him (I have a separate post to make about this in more detail). However, I don't believe Zachariah forced in memories that aren't "greatest hits". I think he just drove them away from any happy memories Sam has with Dean and toward ones where Sam grasped independence from John, misappropriated to make Dean feel Sam doesn't care about Dean or appreciate/recognize his sacrifices (the former is not true, but the latter is in fact true in many cases).

Note though that when Joshua arrives and takes them to heaven's garden:

SAM: This is heaven’s Garden? DEAN: It’s-it’s nice… ish. I guess. JOSHUA: You see what you want to here. For some it’s God’s throne room; for others it’s Eden. You two, I believe it’s the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. You came here on a field trip.

So right there, we have a shared favorite memory, right after (presumably) any potential influence Zachariah had on what memories they were seeing was eliminated.

What primarily irritates me about this episode and many other Dabb/Loflin episodes is their perpetual need to insert the narrative that Sam wants a normal life he explicitly states he does not want over and over and over in everyone else's episodes, while they write Dean as someone who says things like "I mean, we’re supposed to be a team. It’s supposed to be you and me against the world, right?" It implies a sort of desperation vs apathy that, even when contradicted in subtler ways, I just don't find interesting... And yet they seem to harp on the same dramatic "misunderstanding" over and over and over for all eternity. And Dabb continues it after cutting ties with Loflin. In fact he continues to toy with these obnoxious dramatics to the very end of the series in a way I find unbelievably tired and obnoxious and I resent it. He's the same one-trick pony when it comes to his ideas on Dean and Cas conflicts in the later seasons.

As to your last bit there: Dean did consider running off. We see this in "Bad Boys", and in that episode, we also see that Dean doesn't end up abandoning their family because he felt Sam needed him. We hear a similar narrative in regards to John in 1.06 from the mouth of the shifter—that Dean had dreams of his own, but Dean felt that John needed him, so Dean stayed. John echoes this when he says that he was an emotional wreck and Dean took care of him (2.01). We see Dean also taking care of Mary in "Dark Side of the Moon" after she gets off the phone with John, upset. 5.16 casts Dean as someone perpetually sacrificing his own needs for his family, but unappreciated all the while. In fact, Sam doesn't recognize any of his sacrifices. Dean is nothing more than a blood offering on the altar of family. Zachariah intends this narrative and leans into it heavily in the scene where he explicitly manipulates what Sam and Dean are seeing.

MARY: Don’t you walk away from me. I never loved you. You were my burden. I was shackled to you. Look what it got me. The worst was the smell. The pain, well. What can you say about your skin bubbling off? But the smell was so… You know, for a second I thought I’d left a pot roast burning in the oven. But… it was my meat. And then, finally, I was dead. The one silver lining was that at least I was away from you.

Zachariah has Mary speak about Dean being a burden to his family and to her, but it's potentially more layered than "Dean has abandonment issues". What Mary says about being shackled to Dean—being burdened by her child—firmly recollects Dean's claim to Cas in 5.03 that he's chained to his family through responsibility, and that finally being away from Sam is a relief. This fake Mary says death was her escape from similar chains of responsibility to her loved ones. It was the only escape. Burned up and dead but finally free. There's an implication there that Dean can finally escape responsibility in a similar way, and in two episodes, Dean is going to try and escape by saying "Yes".

[divinehedons]

BABE, babe, i need more of Din in Fallen Gods, PLEASE

thank you so much for reaching out! this bounty hunter lives on my mind rent free, so here's what's been on my mind:

cw: pregnancy, implied non/dubcon, implied predator/prey dynamics, i just really needed to get this out of my head, okay

no thoughts, just overbearing din djarin and pregnant reader post the events of fallen gods.

upon finding out about your pregnancy, the mandalorian would absolutely spoil you. adi'ka, come have some fruit. so much of it, day after day after day, following your every move, monitoring even the air that entered your lungs. all for our cyari'ka. our little one is too precious for anything dangerous.

you'd run, of course, you're perfectly capable. you leave him a message that you just want to be left alone. only that makes it worse. he hears your voice, and it sends him on a rampage across the galaxy, the bounty hunter on your scent like the shadow you can't quite shrug off. you know how the mandalorian works. you know how capable he is. and you know he's chasing after you. it's almost so easy for him. everything is too easy when he thinks of the life growing in the warm cradle of your flesh- little heart beating and calling for him across the galaxy. he had found you once when all signs pointed to your death. finding you again was child's play.

it still takes time. when he does find you again, your womb has filled out with your unborn child. you left without the bump evident against your skin, and now, your steps are stilted. by the maker, you waddle now. he sees the way you sit, the way your breath comes out in shaky intervals as sweat bead your forehead.

it's all the more easier, then. all the more easier to lay you on the nearest surface, chuckling at the way you groan at the relief it brings your back. cya're, how could you bear all that when you obviously needed my help? he tries to imagine how you must have borne the brunt of such a pregnancy. the morning sicknesses, your changing body, the desires and cravings you could not have afforded on the run. dank farrik, you probably couldn't even reach around to touch yourself in those long, lonely nights.

he smiles as you whine, kneeling down before you- his divine little creature, the very fount of existence from which he pictures future warriors are born. sweet darling, an angel on such a cursed galaxy, still strong to do battle with the days.

you haven't even given birth to this child, and he already imagines fucking another in your willing womb.

it's alright, adi'ka. i'll take care of you, now.

he fucks his tongue between your folds, tastes your sweet nectar, and swore he saw the maker. so begins a night that you would feel for days after. you would come twice by his mouth, once with his fingers fucking you as he delighted himself in the taste of your tight, untouched, puckered little asshole. even so, you'd cum three more times on his cock, until everything hurts and you're begging him to stop.

he'll hold you in the darkness, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as your child kicks against his hand, letting him know you foster a warrior in your belly.

it's alright, cya're, i'll keep the both of you safe from everything. no danger shall touch you as long as I stand.

you try not to wonder. and yet the thought is there. what if he's the one you should be protected from?

[alexanderlightweight]

Wednesday prompt :) what if the reason Valentine made Luke a wolf was that a wronged nephilim in a parabatai bond can declare the other an oathbreaker, to trigger divine judgement, and if the judgement finds fault with the other you get back your soul piece and the other is punished? What if Alec, faced with another entitled and selfish rant, just snaps and declares Jace an oathbreaker?

okay so I couldn't figure out a way that would work like you were wanting but i did really like the idea that traditionally, a ritual with the silent brothers as a conduit to raziel is the only one allowed to judge and break a parabatai bond

this is actually an au of all your cracks i'll paint gold. because my thought is that an alec who didn't have the faith or hope to wait to give jace till the very last minute (because until the first rune is taken, some part of alec still believes jace is coming). this alec knows he's about to be deruned and he wants to lose his parabatai bond on his own terms. because fuck if he's going to let the clave tear him from jace, he's going to ask raziel to judge them and whoever ends up taking the brunt, so be it. because only raziel can judge the bond between him and jace.

also a part of alec expects to be the one judged as an oathbreaker. he's really tangled up in his own thoughts at this point and he knows he's not thinking straight which makes him doubt himself.

alec wants answers and to fuck the clave by not letting them get their way.

also tbh, for parabatai, i think the loss of the bond itself, especially not knwing what is happening would feel like divine punishment itself. especially for two peple who are so devout to the bond.

i hope you still enjoy <3

lumine

-

Alec doesn’t know what to do, but there is only one thing left to try and Jace is going to lose him either way. This is the most selfish thing Alec’s ever done in his life and he almost doesn’t do it, until he thinks about how long he’s been sitting here, alone.

Jace isn’t coming. Alec knows that at this point. Wherever his parabatai is with Clary, it’s far beyond anywhere that Alec can reach him in time.

And Alec can’t stay sitting here, waiting to be deruned whenever Imogen gets bored of making him wait.

Treated like he isn’t a Commander and not even given the choice of someone as a witness of his own to keep watch.

“I demand the presence of a Silent Brother for an oath.” Alec rasps to the next shadowhunters who pass, and they wince, looking at him with concern but they shake their heads.

Imogen has scared them all with his imprisonment and Alec is paying the price. Alec is normally the backbone of his Institute, the shield between him and the clave and while they trust him to do that, Alec’s never been their official leader or had the chance to make these hunters completely his.

It’s with a snarl and the determination of spite in his heart — because what was the point of any of this? Of denying himself and Magnus even a moment of anything if this is the way things end — and Alec spits his blood and saliva onto the ground.

It’s grueling work.

Alec was already tired from patrol and the mess with Meliorn when they dragged him to a cell and pronounced him a traitor.  There’s been no soul sword and no trial. They want an example and they’re not afraid to use Alec as one.

Where once, Alec would have assumed he had the protection and privilege of the Lightwood name, he knows now that none of it is true. He’s protected himself and his siblings by his own merits, despite their name, all of these years.

So, Alec reaches deep within himself and calls forward the blood magic that every nephilim is told about but rarely any ever attempt.

It’s a brutal, vicious magic that can turn even the simplest of magical desires into an onslaught of eldritch curses.

Alec uses the blood from his split lip and cut cheek and paints a series of runes before placing his hand down and willing it to activate.

His fingers shatter from the pressure he’s using t push down at the same time the array activates and Alec smiles in satisfaction, copper thick on his tongue.

—

“The Silent Brothers have been summoned and so will remain, especially for a trial we were not notified of.”

“Because this isn’t a trial.” Alec rasps out, “I’ve been asked no questions and offered no recourse. I request two things of the Silent Brothers, one of each.”

“Your requests?”

“I declare a broken oath between parabatai. I wish to let the angel judge my parabatai and I’s bond, not the clave.”

Alec isn’t going to fight his deruning, he can’t.

But he’s not going to let the clave strip away his bond, the angel himself can do that.

“The second request?”

“After the first is finished.” Alec says firmly, not about to let them know that his request depends on how the ritual goes.

“Very well. You will need a warlock to maintain your vitals.”

Alec hates to do it, but there isn’t a warlock who he trusts more than Magnus and Alec is very tired of being betrayed.

—

“What is going on?” Magnus asks tightly, because the Institute is full of strange nephilim and there isn’t a single one he recognizes. Which normally isn’t strange, except it wasn’t like this even a week ago.

“You’ve been requested to monitor and maintain the vitals of the nephilim, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, during a ritual.” The Silent Brother escorting him informs him with their invasive way of communication.

Magnus freezes, because this sounds dangerously close to the idea that he’ll be holding Alexander’s life in his hands.

“And he knows I am the warlock working with him?”

“You are the only warlock he would agree to work with.”

Magnus wonders at what that means and curses the flare of hope in his chest. As he enters the room he frowns, noticing it’s heavily guarded by what are clearly clave guards.

They sneer as he passes and Magnus lets his glamour drop, smirking as they flinch from him.  The cell-like quality of the room means he’s not prepared for Alexander when he enters, though he should be.

Alexander looks exhausted and worse than Magnus has ever seen him, and his eyes are dull. There’s a small spark, the softening of Alexander’s gaze on him. When their eyes meet there is wonder and curiosity for a brief heartbeat before Magnus’ glamour goes back up and Alexander’s eyes drop to the floor.

“Well, this is not how I imagined seeing you again.” Magnus says, trying to soften his words but he’s surprised, and he can’t help it and the hope makes him coy. “In my dreams, I imagined crashing your wedding. Not being summoned here to keep you alive.”

Alexander lets out a hoarse, defeated laugh and shakes his head. “There’s not going to be a wedding to crash, Magnus. I’m being deruned for treason. If I’m alive in a week, it’ll be considered impressive.”

Magnus feels his heart crack with the icy hands that have suddenly grabbed it.

“Tell me, everything, Alexander. Now.”

Alec sends him a weary, hopeless gaze and then shrugs, his hoarse voice forming words that tear into Magnus’ cracking heart.

—

Alec recites the words of his oath, the one that will allow Raziel to judge the bonds of his and Jace’s soul.

If he’s to lose this, then he’s going to do it by his own choice.

He expects the pain, when it comes, but it’s more excruciating than he thought it would be. 

The part of Jace’s soul that is melded with his own is burrowed tightly. It writhes and tugs and fights leaving, and Alec is too tired to do anything but accept the pain and the struggle. He doesn’t even have the energy to fight for himself, he certainly doesn’t have the energy to fight for Jace one last time.

Instead, he lets him go and wonders, whose soul will be returned to who.

—

Magnus has never seen such a gruesome, intimate ritual in all of his life, and it galls him at how many are watching it.  He’s keeping Alexander’s heart beating only through the strength of his magic, or Alexander would be lifeless on the flat table they’ve laid him on.  There is nothing to comfort him or ease him from the cold marble and Magnus seethes that he wasn’t allowed to add any kind of magical cushioning.

It’s as if they want Alexander to feel the most discomfort possible.

He can see it in Alexander’s eyes, the surprise and confusion of waking up and it breaks apart the walls he tried so hard to hastily rebuild.

Alexander didn’t expect to wake up and Magnus was the only one he trusted to make sure that if he did die, he was properly taken care of. Death is an intimate affair for shadowhunters, and Magnus knows the honor he’s been given, but every part of this except keeping Alexander alive feels like a curse.

Because what could have happened in the mere days since they last talked and saw each other, to send Alexander spiraling so low? When he was so proud in his own misguided beliefs the last time they saw each other.

“His soul and bond have been judged. Alexander Lightwood’s soul has been returned to him; he has not broken the oath of his bond.”

Alexander doesn’t look pleased by the pronouncement, if anything the distress and grief grow before they’re hidden away.  It’s then that Magnus realizes, while there are a variety of important shadowhunters, there isn’t a single person there connected to Alexander. 

“Is family not allowed?” He asks casually, smirking at the Silent Brother, because all of their order know Magnus’ reputation enough that it’s better to indulge his curiosity.

“There was no family willing or available to come.” Is what he’s told instead of something like, ‘they’re not allowed’ and Magnus, Magnus itches with the urge to destroy something.

“And Alexander?”

Whatever information Magnus is about to learn, is interrupted by Alexander himself.

“My second request, to the Silent Brothers. To request the right of severance. A trial of law.”

Magnus is curious and he raises an eyebrow imperiously at the Silent Brother standing near him.  Magnus hears the mental sigh before he’s told, “to request such a thing, means the clave has first betrayed the nephilim requesting it. There is no risk besides the soul sword knowing it is a lie and he is still due to be deruned. If he cuts himself from the clave, the clave cannot destroy first destroy him.”

“Does he need a magical aid?” Magnus asks without thinking, because of course he wants to help Alexander get away from the people doing this to him.

“Only comfort, when the strength of his own will finally fails him.”

Magnus wonders what that means but he has no further interest in what is being said and he takes the five steps that separate him and Alexander.

“What will happen, when you succeed in the next ritual?”

“I might fail.”

“You won’t.” Magnus assures him, his fingers light as he boldly places his hand on Alexander’s shoulder. Alexander stiffens for a moment and Magnus almost moves, before Alexander visibly relaxes and leans even closer.

“I’ll be allowed to leave the clave, though I doubt any Institute will take me. I wouldn’t trust them either, not anymore.” It’s a bitter thing for Alexander to admit and Magnus can tell. “I’ll still have my runes; I won’t be hunted. I can hide in the edges of the mundane world if I need to. I’m sure Night Markets have some use for what I can hunt.”

Magnus tsks and tightens his grip on Alexander’s shoulder and sends a soothing, warming pulse through Alexander’s muscles. His shadowhunter has been shivering since the ritual and not a single shadowhunter has offered him a blanket.

This entire time he’s been dressed in thin clothes, the kind nephilim are buried in, as if his fate is already decided on. Magnus is going to burn the horrendously white shirt and pants Alexander is wearing and never let him wear the color again.

After Alexander agrees… of course.

—

Alexander’s voice is low, but strong as he speaks his truth upon the soul sword. It carries across the room as he grips the soul sword and speaks.  He looks at no one but Magnus as he talks, repeating line for line the various laws the clave have broken in his case. Even Imogen looks a little pale when he’s done, as if hearing the truth of her own crimes is worse the committing them.

Alexander seems stunned when he’s finished.

As if he didn’t really think it would work, as if he thought he might actually be in the wrong and Magnus heart breaks.

“Alexander—” Magnus murmurs as he walks towards him, for his shadowhunter’s eyes haven’t once looked away from Magnus’ unglamoured ones. His dark eyes are weary as he watches Magnus, there’s no satisfaction in having one.

Hazel eyes widen in shock as Alexander watches Magnus reach out and wrap his fingers around the hilt of the soul sword.

“None of it has ever been a game. I would cherish you, darling. Far more than the clave, your family, your parabatai or even your exalted angel, Raziel.” The sword doesn’t stop him from speaking, because it isn’t a lie. Raziel cares little for the race he created and what Magnus is starting to feel for Alexander can’t be matched even by a divine being.

Let alone the petty, hateful mortals that have brutalized Alexander’s heart and soul so badly.

“What if you get tired?” Alexander asks and Magnus knows he’s too worn to voice the ‘of me’ aloud.

“I will keep you for every moment of your life.” Magnus tells him, swearing upon an angelic relic that croons temptingly to the corrupted blood in Magnus. “I will never throw you from me. Or give up on you. Whatever exists between us, it can grow to whatever we let it and no matter what that is, I will never abandon you. You, just you, would be enough, Alexander.”

Alexander wraps his trembling arms around Magnus and nods, “then take me away. Please, Magnus. From all of it.”

Magnus smirks at the one Silent Brother who never approached him and Jem nods in return. If his friend hadn’t told him about the properties of the soul sword in detail, this never would have worked.  However, Jem isn’t afraid to toe the line of nephilim law and Magnus has never seen him so enraged as he was when he pressed against Magnus’ mind in secrecy earlier.

The clave cannot refute Magnus’ words, not when sworn on the soul sword or witnessed by two Silent Brothers and that means that this is binding.

The clave no longer has any say or power over Alexander, only Magnus does.

[vaxyl]

thinking about Vex and Vax protecting each other in their own little ways

Vax takes the physical brunt of everything. Nothing ever touches Vex if he can help it, but he often gets severely injured while shielding her

Vex stands up for Vax in arguments and shuts off her own emotions when he needs her to hold him together, stunting her own emotional development so that Vax never has to hide his tears

Vax making dodgy deals that keep Vex safe, but that puts his own life in jeopardy without a second thought

Vex running in with reckless abandon to save Vax with no thought for anyone else, endangering everyone to protect her twin

Vax redirecting Syldor's anger onto himself to protect Vex from as much of it as possible, ultimately hurting her more because she has to watch him suffer for her

Vex growing to hate their mother for letting this all happen to her kids, to Vax, and Vax being hurt by it

the twins would do anything for each other, including killing others or actually dying

Once upon a time they were somewhat carefree kids with a safe, loving home

Now they are trained hunters relearning how to live after surviving many horrors

But don't think about hurting either of them for a second

Because where one goes, the other is never far behind...

And they will do ANYTHING for their beloved twin

[moon-0f-m4rs]

im late, hi

CIG AND OTHER MERCS INTERACTION YAYYY

Scout: She'd very much help him prank spy, often. SImmilar age as he is so just 2 lousy children lmao. She also would take from him alot cuz i feel like scout would have lots of silly trinkets and thingys, but outta respect, just the unwanted things for a change from others. Both r yappers so it always results in some idiotic ideas

Solider: She isnt too ecstatic when he spots her. I mean, she never really tries to be careful to not be seen, but when she hears HALT MAGGOT! she rolls her eyes and sighs. She likes to mess with him, but not too badly like she could. Sometimes when she sees hes makin a medal would give him some stuff she has stored, just cuz why not

Pyro: Arson buds. Crafty buds. Buds. She often goes to him for lighters for her cigarettes. Would like to accompany him in battle once but no respawn chip :( Finds tiny pretty things or even bugs if they're not hostile to her and brings them to him. Poses for his drawings. 1# GUEST AT EVERY TEA PARTY. 10/10 friendship.

Demoman: Cig likes to keep him company. Whenever shes bored and theres nothing else to do hes 3rd in list of ppl she goes to. She did try scrumpy from him, brunt her throat, would try again. Most often steals from him cuz shes sure he wouldnt mind, or even notice <33

Heavy: Would sometimes sneak up on him and idk jump from a shelf and land on his shoulder. She finds it funny he gets anxious around tinys as she picked it up from pocket (pocket is canon, i am valve). But shes not doing it like every other day, maybe once a month when she remembers about it. But overall they wouldnt interact that much.

Engineer: Takes things from his workshop alot too, knows hes mad about it, dosent care. Whenever engie sees her, she just says "Shhhh no you didn't" and leaves. If he does catch her, she just starts her yap session which probably results her in just being let go. She doesn't fight him, she just acknowledges him and goes about her way cuz she knows he wouldnt do anything drastic.

Medic: Oohh yeaah thats what we've been waiting forrr!!!!! Their interaction would go like:

cig (stands by an apple): an apple a day keeps the doctor away

medic: i lost my license

cig: oh, L lmao

She would always find a way to escape him. Why? I said so :D Cig is actually so confident about herself she would just sit on a shelf and watch him work, maybe even step into his arm reach willingly and mock him. I feel like that tactic would overtime just have him give up on her entirely lol

so yeah she isnt scared, or hates him, shes there to make fun of him

Sniper: Both don't see eachother often, and honestly, she finds sniper boring. He barely socializes, sleeps outside the base in some van, idk odd guy. One time she was just sitting out in the open like nothing and sniper noticed her, both stared and said nothing, and went their ways.

Spy: oooh.. ooooh... they both DESPISE eachother. Hes the 1# hunter for her ass because of the amount of cigarettes she steals. Whenever hes around or when she just feels his presence, she actually hides. Every now and then she will figure out a way to annoy him more. She actually dares to enter his smoking room and mess in it. Spy is also very annoyed by the fact she has managed to avoid him for so long when hes the worlds greatest spy. Cig likes to point that out alot.

aaah.... im done... i did this in one sitting.......2 am hitting hard.. well, back to drawing now

@bluespace-skull cuz u wanted a tag :D