#rip hunter u were a real one

[bewilderbark]

day 15 - BLL/DLL

new members of the family

[libraryraccoon]

Kk so I am too lazy to write on my own but I have come up with a pretty good day dream scenario that you can write for ( I might also do it but maybe not).

But a police officer with a strong sense of justice goes to hell and starts trying to organize after spawning in one of the worst areas in hell, even the overlords are hesitant to go in there. But as they gain more and more power the area to clean up expands.

Their really not a bad person , one of the only reasons their there is because they had premarital sex . ( They banged someone's wife when drunk).

Was killed by the husband by a shot in the chest. Now resemble a fox because of their wit and inganuty.

( in sry if it's too specific but you can cut out anything u don't want)

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message from Raccoon : I try to write a police officer!reader, but i'm pretty sure it's bad.

TW : Reader is in Hell 2 years before the series, 🟣 (one time mentionned), violence.

General Headcanon

In your lifetime you were a police officer, and a good one at that.

But unfortunately, one day you died and arrived in hell.

The person you loved was cheating on their partner with you. They didn't like it and killed you.

You are now in Hell.

Hell sorely lacked justice, but it's okay, you will rectify it.. :)

Vox didn't like you. Like, really.

He heard about you after you nearly beat Valentino to death.

Why did you beat Valentino ? Because he was a 🟣, forcing people to prostitute themselves, and more.

You also beat Velvette a bit because she created the love potions.

So yes, he didn't like you.

He start to hate you when you broke his head/tv when you saw him manipulating people..

It's hell ! What did you expect ?! Everyone manipulates !

A violent police officer. This is what you were.

You killed everyone who did things against your morals... in one month you killed more than the exterminators ever did.

Adam sees you as a sort of rival/person on his level.

Alastor find you entertained.

You were the only one in Hell with a moral, so you were interesting.

He also finds it very interesting that you manage to beat 3 Overlords and that 2 Overlords (Carmilla and Zestial) consider you their equal.

He wanted to come talk to you, but he decided not to after seeing you kill a demon with an angelic weapon because they were cannibals.

Compared to what you might think, he have a sense of self-preservation.

When you arrived at the hotel, as part of security, Alastor was a little scared..

Especially when you pointed your gun at his forehead, where the hunter had shot, killing him when he was alived.

Bonus point if you are a dog demon, he is really scared and wonders if you want to reproduce his death.

Husk love you and love the fact that you can scared Alastor, he live for seeing that man being your victim.

Niffty love you, she think you are a real bad boy ! RIP

You and Vaggie get along well, you both know that not everyone can be redeemed (looking at Alastor from a distance) and you know how fucked up Hell is.

But you help Charlie because some still have a chance to redeem themselves (looking discreetly at Sir Pentious).

Sir Pentious was afraid of you at first, but in the end he start to like you.

You always get him out of the worst situations, I can imagine that you saw Vox try to use his power on Sir Pentious when he was a 'spy', and you directly destroyed the watch by throwing a knife at it.

Sir Pentious didn't even notice you were here-

After that, a long conversation followed about why we should not harm the Hotel and its residents and avoid the Vees.

Sir Pentious thanked you very much for that by the way.

After that Vox received a little visit from you..

If it wasn't for Charlie stopping you from killing him, he would have died instead of just being injured/broken.

Vox spent a week in repair/hospital.

Angel Dust adores you.

Every time you accompany him to work, strangely Valentino gives him the day off..

Yeah, he takes you with him whenever you can.

Even if you hate the Overlords, you are one of them.

Overlord D/N (demon name), the Police Officer of Hell.

Carmilla loves it when you are at meetings, the other Overlords (*cough* Vees *coughs*) are always calm when you are here.

You 🤝 break into Lucifer's house.

Yeah, because well before the hotel, 3 days after your arrival, you break into Lucifer's house.

Why ? Because you found unacceptable that he didn't manage Hell and let the demons do all they want.

You didn't expect to find yourself faced with a depressed father whose wife left 5 years ago and who he no longer really has contact with his daughter.

You had to play therapist and friend.

Literally you were giving him therapy sessions in exchange of him letting you stay at his house.

You don't even have a degree in therapy.

Lucifer considers you as his lifeline. He clings to you for dear life, metaphorically and literally.

Hurt this man and the next day you will find his corpse-

Is this a healthy friendship ? No, but are you going to ignore this fact and pretend everything is normal ? Yes.

You have changed his point of view on demons, in the sense that some, not all but some, can be redeemed.

I headcanon that you repaired Charlie and Lucifer's relationship, and that before the series.

Greatest dad didn't happen, sorry everyone.

[blingblong55]

The Great War -141, Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of "Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i've been betrayed" coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, 'oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do' and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u!

A/N: anon knew what they were doing with that ask…anyway, here you go my love…betrayal as a meal <3

--- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of torture and violence

A/N: also, not much of an angst since I don't want to kill Soap in this one...but I hope you like it

[Present day]

File #21712

Name: [Readers Last, First name]

Alias: Grim

Callsign: Bravo 0-5

Gender: F

DOB: [Redacted]

Rank: 2nd Lt.

Affiliations: 

-TF 141 (Former)

-Kasper Team (dissolved)

-Konni Group (Current)

Status: Alive. Threat.

Summary:

Deadly, fast and a killing machine. Soldier was trained as a recon sniper and has been trained by allied forces as an insertion specialist. SAS has recognised this soldier as a necessity for most of its joint operations. Decorated with high awards and recognition by all military forces. TF 141 acquired soldier after a mission in Al Mazrah. Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.

---------------------- 

The file was there, Laswell and all of the men in the team stared at it. What have they done, was all that played in their minds. To betray a soldier that has been wanted by all allied forces, by all teams and now losing you so quickly to a Russian group. To think your hands will be responsible for their demise. One torture room, where you begged as they did vile acts against you. Truth yelled by your gravelly throat, only to have Price ask for more of your blood. "How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. 

[Eight years ago]

There had been suspicion someone within the base was working with KorTac, a double agent. All fake puzzles led to an unsuspecting, then officer cadet, you. Ghost and Soap made sure to tie you nicely to a chair. The same one that watched you bleed the truth as they cut looking for lies. You were always the hunter, never the prey. "Tell us, R/N, why the fuck were you talking to KorTac!" Price made sure to have the young Lieutenant punch you each time you stayed silent. Your blood on the walls of the torture-...interrogation room. "I told you Price, it isn't me!" Your eyes poured the truth they never saw. 

"Fucking answer us!" Soap, more than ever hurt, slapped you. You play tough, but this hurts, the people you trusted with your life are now wanting to end it. An oath you hold close to you, now far away, or so they believed. The patch you wore with pride, is now ripped from your uniform. No longer friendly but an enemy. You knew what this meant. Ghost took his knife out, began to approach your neck with the sharp blade and before he took your life, Gaz walked in. A small-figured soldier is being pushed into the room. "Tell them what you told me!" Garrick barked. "I-it's me! I'm the one who is talking to KorTac," voice filled with fear, rightfully so. Ghost let go of the fisted uniform in his hand, and watched as your body fell forward. Soap, look of regret, held you in his arms. 

On the way to the medic centre, Ghost was by your side as you kept whispering it wasn't you. The scar he made, is forever to be kept. Days of healing, hours of apologies. Nights when you didn't hear it, but the cold lieutenant apologised with a stream of tears on his face. A blade he cared for, neared your death. 

A/N: Makarov's information has been updated for the reboot, so I'm basing myself on that

[Seven years ago]

[Saint Petersburg, Russia]

You visited the country as a civilian and bumped into a man on your way to your hotel. "Sorry, mate," you kept walking and then days later, the same man appeared in the hotel's lobby. Bumped into you and then as an apology for spilling your wine, he offers dinner. 36-year-old Vladimir was still not illustrated, not to any of his future enemies or hunters at least. You learned many things with him that evening, from his young years in the military and how his night had gotten better since meeting you. "It's wonderful, to have such a beauty like you visit such a dull country." He had you blushing and knew how to mess with your young heart. 

"You're just saying that, Vlad," a smile on your lips. It was bizarre how he went from Vladimir to Vlad, a short name that meant too much to a man like him. "Well, it's true, my dear," his smile winning you over. He didn't know your real job and you didn't know his. That night, you made a friend, someone you hold dear. That night, he made a lover, a puppet to his future. 

[Six years ago]

[middle of nowhere]

"Where are you taking me?" a blindfold on you as your boyfriend, Vlad, took you to yet another date. "You'll see my dearest," he whispers against your soft skin. Warm breeze hit your skin. The ocean, as free as you and him yearned to be. "Suprise my love," his thick accent melting your heart. The blindfold off you, you smile and hug him. This day, all truth was told, no arguments, just two lovers understanding each other's lives. "No no, my love, I would never hurt you," a promise he knows to keep. "And you wouldn't betray me, right love?" His hands cupped your delicate face as you nod. "I would never," you whisper as you feel his lips fall on yours. 

From then on, no one knew who he was to you. But to his comrades, friends and family you were the girl who held his heart. The task force all thought you were just like them, stuck to the mission and not to civilian love. Dancing with the devil, making love to him and promising your all. An engagement ring that hangs with your dog tags. Secret love to never be told. 

[Five years ago]

"Who is this?" Soap and Gaz looked at the photograph. "Vladimir Makarov, a Russian nationalist, born during the USSR," Laswell responded. "He's the target," her lips said. A knot at your throat, this can't be, you have to warn him. "Y'alright love?" Ghost's hand on your back. You nod. "Yeah, I'm just thinking," you turn to him. He nods, "Right, well, what do you think we should do?" He encouraged you, the new lieutenant of the team, no longer a cadet officer. It was something he pushed you to, to be the best. Proud smile on him when you ran up to him with the news. "I say we start with intel," you look at the photograph once more. It was your Vlad, no doubt. "Right, sergeants with me, Ghost and Grim stay behind for Laswell's next intel ask," Price nodded and left. 

Days passed and Operation Golf was established. Ghost taught you how to perfect your ghillie suit. He just liked how you tried to make yours better than his, which always turned into, 'which Lt. wore it better'.

By midnight, as Ghost went to sleep, you left base to meet with Vladimir. Price and the two other men in a different country, looking for him. "What is it, my love?" His gloved hands held your face. "They are now gathering intel on you. They believe you are still in Russia," you spoke in Russian. He chuckles, "Shame that I'm here, isn't it," his lips meet yours. Your nose is cold and now warmed by his kiss. "Don't trust no one, not even Ivan," you warn him. "I only trust my beautiful love," he kisses you again. "Now, let me hold my precious darling before she plays pretend." And that night, was the first of many rendezvous's he took for you whilst you play ally to the task force. 

[Four years ago]

You were on an operation with some old teammates from a past squad when Price got a hold of you. "Grim, it's that Captain Price guy!" A teammate calls out. You answer the call. "Prisoner 627 is now in Russia," Price proudly spoke. 627, a number unique to the case the military had opened for Makarov alone. Your wedding ring is hung with the dog tags. "Copy, out." You say over the call. That night, your bedroom was not filled with the call of your dearest lover. It's strange, to play pretend with the family you made as a soldier and to play feign with the man you call home as a wife. All in the name of love and war. 

Months pass and you play calmly. No husband, just an enemy in some Russian prison. "Y'okay bonnie?" Soap sat beside you during mess hall. "Yeah, just a bit tired from that training," you lie. The sleepless nights you have thought about your husband. You look around the table, no one knowing you knew what would come next from Konni. In the end, it wouldn't be you who got betrayed again. Not tortured, especially not by the men in your husband's team that guarded your life with theirs. 

Mission after mission, you would go to a country near Russia. Have meetings with people on your husband's side, and hear how he would escape prison. Asked you to stay away from his people when the day arrived. Play good, he would remind you. You know the date, time, how and when it would happen. The plan is all memorised in your head. You knew the people that would break him free, you knew it all and yet no one in 141 was aware. 

[Three years ago]

On yet another mission, you got news of Vladimir. He isolated himself, prepared for when he would see you again. Sent letters to you occasionally. Details of love no one would see from a man like him. A love for all movie lovers to never witness. You roamed the home he set out to be his and yours, no one, not even his best soldier knew that home existed. It was days like these that you wished to have stayed in bed and kissed his body, all details to be taken in for when you waited to once more kiss him. 

The picture of the secret wedding was held between your fingers. A smile he dreams to see as he awaits the prison break. The man who was set to believe evil held your hand and promised an entire lifetime of love. "I'm sorry," you whisper as your gaze focuses on the 141 emblem. 

"Never be sorry, never, what they did to you is cruel, you never do that to a woman who was oathed in," fury escaped his lips. It was the night he finally told you all about him. He kissed the scars that the torture room left. In that moment, all else who dared question you, especially the rats of 141 would pay for what they did to his darling. Maybe he did corrupt you, but those scars, the lies they believed and the truths they never heard from you, were way before he met you. He believed in loyalty, good or evil, opposing or not. And the way you told him how you held the oath of being a soldier dear to you, he admired it. He believes that loyalty is essential, and if you are loyal to who you are, he applauds it. 

[Two years ago]

A mission gone wrong, a phone call from within the prison. All he sacrificed to just hear you say, "I'm fine, honey." With that oh-so-soft voice of yours. A sigh of relief came from his lips. This was a reminder he would always be around even from within a guarder tower of hell. His men would always guard you, even if they fought 141, you were never the target. KorTac had a target on their backs when Vladimir found out they were the ones responsible for the bullet on your shoulder. "What is it?" He asked the guard. "The girl has been injured, gunfight at some mission." He had people that worked for him within the guards, and when the news arrived to him, that's when for the first time in his life, he feared life and a gun. Vladimir Makarov is a villain in everyone's eyes. In your eyes that hold paradise, he is peace. He is Vlad, your husband. 

Whilst waiting for Soap to get cleared from the medics, you played with the ring on your necklace. "Oh, R/N, has some lover?" Gaz was the first to notice. Ghost's stare went to you, eyes wide as he heard the words he never needed to hear. Your blush told the words his heart never wanted to hear. 

[One year ago]

[Las Almas, Mexico]

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost asked and in that moment, he made you back away. Guarding you with his body. Betrayal, the first of many he would see with you. That became the night you escaped the shadows of Commander Graves. Soap was somewhere in the city, Ghost and you escaped every chance the shadows had at catching you. Imprisonment is something you got Colonel Vargas out of. Ironic. By the end, you killed him, the man who used his shadows, in some explosion. "You alright, love?" Ghost asked as you went to the aircraft quietly. "Yeah, Mexico just tired me," your head hung as you played with the dog tags. "Who's the lover?" He finally acknowledged the ring. "No one, it's just a silly joke," you lie, something he knew well. "Hmm, yeah...a silly joke," he turned away from you. 

[Present day, 21 November 2023 ] 

[London, England]

The last time you saw them all as a team, well, now that you were sure you'd be a newfound enemy. With Makarov now out of prison, prisoner 627, your love called for him. As Ghost looked through the CCTV cameras, one of the men in Konni gave you the signal. And as you approached, you caught a glimpse of him. Your heart flutters and then you look at Ghost. He nodded and you pretended to try and fight against Makarov. Czar-9-0 Actual. The callsign of your husband and the name of the man you betrayed them for. Guns blazing, bullets directed at them, not you. Gaz and Ghost, a team, Soap and Price, a team, 141, one unit. You, the wife of the enemy. Two bullets and then, the head hit the ground. Young soldier down. "What are you doing?!" Soap asked as you turned on them. A 20-year-old soldier died within seconds, you knew him from when he joined at 18. James, the man whose blood ran on your gun. 

Makarov fired, one of his men held your hand and brought you to your husband. The 141 patch off your uniform as now, you were given the Konni patch. "Welcome back, comrade," a man spoke with an evil grin. Ghost, the eyes that saw the betrayal again. 23 soldiers died, from both sides. 141 on the ground, trying to recover. 

--

"C'mon, Grim, you have to trust me on this, yeah?" the young lieutenant that made Ghost told you. "What if we fall?" you asked. "If you trust me, we won't and if I trust you, we will go home and get a pint or two," He smiles at you. From this day on, you and he became close, a bond no gun could break. 

--

Ghost swore you were taken hostage. And as Makarov was about to kill Captain Price, one of his men tapped him out. "No time, we will get him later!" Ghost's glare never left yours. He shook his head. This can't be, not his R/N. You looked at him, no remorse behind your eyes. It wasn't R/N, it was Grim that stared at him. The soldier he respected the most. You pointed your gun at one of the other soldiers with them. 

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

He jumped at you, to not kill you but to bring you back and let Makarov run with Grim. You pushed him, what turned into a fight for his teammate to be back, became a fight against the enemy. You pushed him to the ground. "Ghost!" Gaz yelled as he saw your gun pointed at him. It was never Makarov that would be his demise. It wasn't an enemy. It was you. It was the one he held dear to his civilian self. The woman he would drink poison for. The one he jumped a bullet for when they were young cadets. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His eyes never left yours and for a second, he saw past Grim and noticed the scared R/N that obeyed her husband. 

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

You put your gun down and turn away, running to Vladimir. His open arms, ready to embrace his darling. Now, all of 141's secrets are with Makarov. It clicked in that instant. How four years ago Makarov knew who Ghost was. How well he knew all their names. It wasn't some file he saw when his hacker got in, no, it was you, the best of all pawns. The train cleaned your tracks. Price and the others stood in fear, all this time, you were part of Konni. Ghost stood in silence. 

In every war he was in, you were there. His favourite of all soldiers. From his early days as just Simon to his latest days as Ghost, all witnessed by you. He was the one who asked for you anywhere he went. His life came in a flash, all the Christmas events, the dinners and drinks he had with his friend...no...enemy. The one person who knew Simon liked the palm of her hand, now holding the man Ghost called an enemy. 

"How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. "But that was years ago," Soap comments. "It started years ago," Gaz mentions. "We weren't meant to win this one gentlemen," Kate informs.

"Fuck!" Ghost's blood boiled. He scared them, he knew that well. So when he slammed his fist on the table, he even made the best of soldiers flinch. "Lt," Soap tried to calm him down. "No, Johnny! You don't get it, you don't know her as I do," he approached the sergeant. "She didn't kill you, why?" Kate walks to the betrayed soldier. "What?" His voice is hoarse. "She had the chance to kill you, headshot even, yet she didn't, she ran to him and then when she did, all fire ceased." Kate is after all a mastermind. "She didn't betray Simon, she betrayed Ghost, she betrayed Soap, not Johnny, Gaz, not Kyle and Bravo six, not John." She states. 

"She betrayed soldiers, not family," Price came to realisation. Grim did that, Grim killed all that came between the goal. 'Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.' The goal wasn't to kill Task Force 141, it was to get revenge for the betrayal, for torturing you in a room, letting your blood drip. You married a man, something all fools do. But even though Makarov wanted you to pull the trigger on Ghost, you didn't. You ran away and the fire ceased. 

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

A/N: see what I did there?...mastermind me y'know

Tags:

@tf141glory @liyanahelena @quaritchscupquake @dilfgestivo @thefragmented @scarletdfox @arialikestea @unicorngirly1 @alhaizen @willowaftxn83-87 @koniglovesme @bbyfimmie @mothcelestial @kit-kats06 @palomesa @dheet @dontfearthereaperazura

[lostonmyroad]

Moments That I Want Tattooed On My Forehead From S-Classes That I Raised Chapters 30-50

BEWARE OF SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

things are starting to get going. and by get going i mean starting to get unhinged but its still nothing compared to the shit going on by the 300s

chapter 30-40

lmfao yoojin forgetting he blocked yoohyun’s number...king shit

yoojin daring yoohyun to call him out on his suspicious behavior...also king shit 

chapters 40-50

let’s go sung hyunjae makes his debut!!!!

YOOHYUN ACTING INNOCENT IN FRONT OF YOOJIN AS HE MEETS THE GUILD LEADERS AKFJEIDIDOODSOOS highkey one of my favorite scenes ever. “my brother is more mild mannered than me” “yoohyun is an angel” everyone else in the room: press X to doubt

moon hyuna woman that you are. my beloved. you’re too good for this world 

i live for yoohyun generally being a freak about yoojin

i need to know what blackmail he has on moon hyuna. what happened at the convenience store????? moon hyuna what did you do???

thank u yerim and moon hyuna friendship. we love to see it. Now s ranks also passes the bechdel test!!

ah yes potion addict yoojin has arrived. rip buddy at least you get better flavors later down the line

it’s only chapter 44 and yoojin is already being overworked. true cale henituse moment. rip your slacker life!!!

everyone ganging up on him to start enforcing self care. oh honey it only gets worse from here!!!

so far yoojin is: a monster tamer, social media account manager, recruiter for hayeon, owns a building with a research lab…my guy was speedy with it

yoojin going "i just need to complete one (1) more task and then I can live like a slacker" in the early chapters is. oh wow. famous last words. truly need to learn from cale

even peace is a borderline freak when it comes to yoojin. doesn’t give a shit about anyone else 

YOOJIN ANSWERING SPAM CALLS JUST TO MESS WITH PEOPLE SKDJEIODO…he enjoys it…this explains so much about him…he’s bragging about how much experience he has answering them…

yoojin guessing who the kidnappers were because they didn’t call Peace cute is so valid. Anyone who doesn’t like Peace is an enemy

we’re starting to get into “oh wow fear resistance is kind of fucked territory”!!! yoojin is a little freak!!! he’s committing war crimes but sometimes it just be like that

rip blackie chapter 46-47 :(

yoojin treating the s ranks like normal people and them not knowing how to handle it ;((

GIVE YOOJIN HIS OSCAR NOW “uwu i’m a poor kidnapping victim” like sir. you dissolved your kidnappers in acid. sir. 

all the details about yoojin’s life as a low ranked hunter pre-regression :(((

like not yoojin casually mentioning he used to be an alcoholic and yoohyun sent him to rehab pre regression. ok king. we don’t have time to unpack all that

kang soyoung intro!!! i so desperately need to know what her deal was with yoohyun pre regression. why does yoojin think of her as his sister in law. why did everyone believe they were dating.

next chapter brings us a real introduction to sung hyunjae character of all time

[milksnake-tea]

hello!! 💕💕 first of all, I'd like to say CONGRATS ON THE 1K FOLLOWERS!! honestly your work is so amazing you totally deserve it - reading your work is such a pleasure and such an inspiration, keep up the amazing work, Lui!! 💕💕

okok so now for my request:

may I humbly ask for the love of my life Blade with angst dialogue 10... (please be easy on my heart 💔)

anyways, have a lovely day!! I can't wait to see what you write for this event!! :)

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: "I didn't know where else to go." ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: blade ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: angst ofc !! but not too heavy lmao, mentions of blood and injuries, brief mentions of blade's real name ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: AHHHH TY EL !!! UR SO SWEET I KEEP SAYING THIS BUT GRIPS U

Blade muttered a silent curse to himself, clutching at his bleeding arm as he hauled himself through the Xianzhou. Normally, he would've welcomed the injury, but this one didn't seem to be healing anytime soon.

The streets were uncharacteristically silent - something Blade found himself thankful for. It wouldn't do him any good if a civilian, or worse, a Cloud Knight, had found an injured Stellaron Hunter out in the streets.

He hardly paid attention to where his feet were taking him; he didn't care. Anywhere was fine, as long as it was away from the enemy.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of a familiar doorstep. Blade blinked, before cursing himself for his carelessness. He needed to get out of here, quick, before you figured out he was here.

He attempted to walk away, but instantly, his arm flared with pain. Blade hissed, glaring at his arm as if it had done something wrong. His arm did not reply.

He heaved a sigh. He'd love to just leave and treat his wound himself. But where to would he leave? Here, he was on enemy territory. No one would welcome him.

Lost in his turmoil, Blade failed to register the sound of your approaching footsteps. It was when you finally opened the door, and the light of your home cascaded onto him that he stiffened like a deer in headlights.

You looked as young as he remembered you - or rather, as much as he could remember you. Such was the fate of a long-lived species, he mused. Your eyes were wide with surprise, shock, and even fear.

"Yingxing?" you managed out in disbelief.

You took a step back, taking a defensive position. Somewhere, in the depths of Blade's guarded heart, something tightened painfully.

"What are you doing here?"

You tried to sound assertive, but the tremble in your voice gave you away. You were scared, and Blade knew it. He didn't blame you. He was a Stellaron Hunter, after all. Creating fear was part of his job - Kafka was particularly good at it.

Usually, he liked fear. He loved seeing it in the eyes of his enemies, their ego dropping to absolute terror when faced with an opponent far beyond their league.

But with you, something about it made his gut twist, as though something was wrong.

As Blade merely stared at you, conflicting emotions swirling in his eyes, you noticed his arm. His black coat was ripped, revealing the gaping slash wound.

"You're hurt," you stated the obvious. Blade cringed, but nodded.

"I..." he took a deep breath. For a moment, the criminal wanted by the IPC looked nervous, vulnerable. "I didn't know where else to go."

Your gaze dropped. It'd been centuries since you'd last seen Yingxing, or Blade. When you last saw him, he was the blacksmith of the High Cloud Quintet, a hero to the Xianzhou. Now, he was one of its most hated criminals.

If you let him into your home and were caught, you'd surely be arrested for treason.

Blade noticed your conflicted gaze. Despite expecting this result, he couldn't help a pit of disappointment from forming in his stomach. He straightened, hardening his gaze.

"Never mind," he said quietly, turning his back. "I apologize for bothering you."

"Wait."

Your voice stopped him in his tracks. You crossed your arms, wondering to yourself if you were insane, delusional, or perhaps just plain stupid.

"Come in," you sighed, quite honestly disappointed in yourself. "You'll get it infected at this rate."

Very reluctantly and confusedly, Blade followed you into your home. You pointed him to the couch, which he wordlessly sat himself on while you disappeared into another room, presumably to retrieve medical supplies.

His memory is foggy, but there's a sense of familiarity here. He briefly remembered the paintings that are hung up, the ones that you won in a bidding. He recognized the table at which you'd drink tea and discuss your day with him.

Flashes of memory flicker in his mind, but Blade immediately squashed them. He knew that delving into the past would only serve to irritate the mara lying dormant within him.

It wasn't long before you returned, holding a first aid kit and sitting down next to him.

"Can you take off your coat?" you asked. "It'll make things easier."

Blade followed suit, slowly unbuttoning his coat and letting it fall to the couch around him. Bandages were wrapped around his entire torso, while scars of many lives littered his skin like burned reminders.

You reached out a hand - but what for, you didn't know. To console him? To touch his scars, to give him even the slightest of comfort?

But you didn't. No, the relationship you two once had was no more. You no longer had the right to do so.

And so, you opted for bandaging him, cleansing the wound, applying ointment, and wrapping it. You stubbornly kept your eyes on the gash, no matter how much you hated the sight of blood, refusing to look up and meet Blade's burning gaze.

"You can stay the night."

Your mouth moved before your brain did. You almost didn't believe your own words, and immediately you wanted to take them back. Even Blade was shocked by your offer, staring at you as though you've grown a second head.

"But," you quickly added, "you need to be gone by tomorrow morning. I refuse to be arrested because you're found in my home."

Your words stung, but were understandable. Blade closed his eyes, and nodded. You stood up.

"There's an extra blanket and pillows in the closet," you said, packing up the first aid kit. "Goodnight, Yingxing."

"Blade," he corrected quietly. "I lost my right to that name a long time ago."

You were silent for a moment.

"Very well," you finally said. "Goodnight, Blade."

And as you left for your bedroom, leaving the criminal in your living room, you could barely hear the faintest of whispers from your old friend.

"Goodnight, [Name]."

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[oklotea]

you want eah parents hcs? *cracks knuckles* alright then here's some

- When Pied Piper returned the kids to their parents (no, he didn't drown them, c'mon Eah show isn't that dark) he noticed a kid in the group who didn't ran to none of the adults in the village and no parents who ever sought her out.

That child was Melody, and seeing she had no parents and home, the Pied Piper adopted her

- Cheshire Cat created Kitty. Like she literally took a part of herself and molded it into a baby Kitty. How's that possible? To make herself disappear and reappear, the Cheshire Cat is made of smokey and pooffy stuff inside so if she wants a kid, she can easily just pluck off some of the smoke stuff from her arm or leg etc. It doesn't hurt in case you're wondering

- The Huntsman (Hunter's dad) and Red (Cerise's mom) were childhood, and the Huntsman was in love with her

It's was one-sided and Red was oblivious to his feelings and The Huntsman never had the courage to tell her how he truly felt...so you would get this teenage boy get all shy saying stuff like - "Wowza Red...funny to think how i'm technically ur Prince Charming...👉👈 saving u from the Big bad wolf....very fuunnyy riiight? haahahaa"

- Like it was shown in Class of Classics, King Charming was similar to Dexter at the start, but with the pressure to be a perfect Prince Charming, mixed in with his own insecurities and wanting not to fail his own destiny, he started to become the worst version of himself, but because he alligned with the rules of how a Pince Charming should be, many weren't that bothered by it, outside of Pinnochio and Goldie who knew the real him.

Pinnochio misses his old friend

- Red and EQ were those friends who since highschool had plans of their kids also being friends like they are, but then EQ got trapped in the mirror realm and so there were no playdates between Raven and Cerise.

After Red learned Cerise had befriended Raven, she felt happy. (EQ learned about their friendship either through the mirrors or after she got broken out of the realm)

1. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THAT IDEA AWGEHHHHHHH I think that would make melody and piper's relationship even more sweet!!!!! I love that I really do

2. MAKES SENSE. I CAN TOTALLY IMAGINE IT. There is no way kitty actually has a father.

3.DAMN huntsman fumbled fr HAHHAHSHAHDKD Yeah I can totally see that being canon! Sorry huntsman sir but red does NOT want you. Canon in my book

4.THIS IS EXACTLY THE IMPRESSION I GOT FROM LANCE. He was nerdy and insecure but because of the pressures of society decided to completely be consumed by the toxic masculinity mindset and because of that, he eliminated any kind of resemblance of who he truly is. And now he projects onto daring and Dexter. Rip. AGHHRHRHRRJJJJHHHHH STOP I FEEL SIIICKKKKKJKKK FUCK YOU LANCE. I hate king charming with my entire heart and soul, but I can also mourn for the person he couldve become if he grew up in a different more accepting environment.

5.ARGEGRHHHHHHH EQ AND RED FRIENDSHIP FUCKING REAL!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS SO GREAT I LOVE THID THIS IS CANON

[it-was-too-cold-always]

We're Not in CW Anymore - 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: language, violence

Chapter 5: RIP Buster

Perhaps it was the comfort of the Impala, or the craziness of your Target experience, but you were quickly snoozing in the backseat. The hum of the engine on the highway was incredibly relaxing. As you slowly made your way back into consciousness, you could hear Sam’s voice.

“All I’m saying is we don’t know anything about her. I’m not saying she can’t be trusted, just that we need to keep in mind that she’s a complete stranger.”

“Sam, I’m not an idiot. But you don’t get it. It’s wild, man. It’s like I’ve known her my entire life,” Dean replied.

Hearing them talk about you made you flustered, and you couldn’t pretend to be asleep any longer. You let out a groan as you stretched, letting them know you were up now.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean teased.

“Where are we?” you asked, ignoring Dean’s comment. You weren’t awake enough for a witty response.

“Stratton, Nebraska. A man was brutally murdered in a locked room, in a locked house. No signs of forced entry. Definitely a ghost,” Sam replied.

You hummed in response. A ghost – this was actually happening. You were going to work a case with Sam and Dean Winchester. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach as you thought about it – you were never the horror type. Gore, you could handle. But jump scares? You were a wimp. Hopefully they weren’t expecting you to hunt with them.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the car pulled up to a large farmhouse. You thought you saw movement in one of the second-floor windows, but your mind was probably making things up. You were already scared. This was going to be a long day.

Dean picked the lock on the front door with quick precision, and the three of you walked inside. The interior was actually quite charming. You could smell the fresh coat of paint on the walls. It was hard to imagine such a brutal murder occurred in here not that long ago.

The boys surveyed the house room by room. Sam was holding an EMF reader that was beeping almost continuously.

“EMF is going wild,” Sam observed.

“Yeah, but look – power lines,” Dean said, motioning out the window. “EMF means jack squat.”

Moving upstairs, you decided to check out the rooms for yourself. Out of pure curiosity, you opened one of the closet doors. Sitting in the smack middle of the floor, there was a doll’s head, hair practically all gone, covered in dirt. Fuck that. You were too focused on the disturbing doll to notice Dean walking up behind you.

“That’s not creepy,” he said sarcastically, making you jump out of your skin. You turned around and smacked his arm.

“Dude!” you yelled, your heart racing.

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s just a doll,” he chuckled. “It’s not going to hurt you.” Apparently he thought this was funny. He softly grabbed your arm, rubbing his thumb on your bare skin. You crossed your arms and glared at him.

“We got a fucking problem,” Sam said as he jogged into the room. The three of you peered out the window as you saw a car and a U-Haul pull up to the house. A boy and his dog jump out of the car and start running around in the front yard. “We gotta get them out of here,” Sam says, pulling out a fake badge from his inside coat pocket. Dean nods his head and turns to you.

“Keep close and play along,” he warns. “This shouldn’t be a problem, but you never know.”

Walking down the porch steps, Sam hollers to the family in the yard. “Sorry folks, but this house isn’t livable. You’re gonna have to pack it up and stay somewhere else tonight.”

“Not livable? We just had it inspected last week! Who exactly are you?” one of the men exclaims.

“I’m Mr. Stanwyk, this is Mr. Babar, and our intern Ms. Fogerty,” Dean says as he and Sam whip out their badges. “We’re with County Code Enforcement. We have evidence of asbestos and a gas leak. Nothing you want to mess with. I suggest you stay at a motel tonight.”

The teen girl groans, “Dad, you can’t be serious!” The dad sighs and complies with Sam and Dean’s request.

“One night. One. Then we’re coming back in the morning and moving in,” he says.

The three of you jump in the Impala to talk to the longtime housekeeper. Surely if there’s a ghost in that house, she’ll give the boys a lead on whose body needs to be burned. You waited in the car as they spoke with her on her porch. Your thoughts wandered towards the moment in the bedroom after Dean scared you. It was like he was trying to comfort you. You wondered if he felt bad about it. The memory of his hand on your arm sent shivers down your spine. His touch was intoxicating. You wanted more.

The boys got back in the car, settling in their seats with a frustrated sigh.

“How’d it go?” you asked.

“The wife died in childbirth, and the daughter hung herself. Both were cremated. So either someone else is haunting that house, or one of them is hanging onto something in that house. We’re gonna have to go back and take a look. Maybe the attic or under the house there’s something sentimental they’re stuck to,” Sam explained. Great. Back to the creepy old house, right as the sun was setting.

~

Dean cussed as he pulled up to the farmhouse – the family was back. The car and U-Haul were back in the driveway, and light shined through the upstairs windows. They had moved into the haunted murder house.

“Fuck!” Dean cursed as he slammed his hand against the steering wheel, “What are we gonna do?”

“We could tell them the truth,” Sam replied.

“Really?” Dean asked, shocked.

“No, not really.” Sam shot Dean a look for even considering that he was being serious.

Screams came from the house, and quickly Sam and Dean jumped into action. Busting the front door open, the boys took a moment to assess the situation. You ran up to the house and immediately saw “GO” written in red crayon on the wall. The teenager was shrieking and crying.

“What’s wrong, what happened?” Dean demanded.

“What’s wrong is the girl in the walls LICKED me!” the teen yelled, gesturing to her hand.

Before Dean could even try to process that statement, you heard the dog yelping loudly outside.

“Buster!” the dad yelled, running out the front door to find his dog. Sam, Dean, and you followed him out, finding a highly disturbing message – “TOO LATE” was written in blood on the side of the U-Haul.

“There goes Buster,” you muttered to yourself, not quietly enough though. Dean snorted, then tried to play it off as a cough. Sam glared at both of you, then turned to the dad.

“You need to get your family and get the hell out of here. Go into town, find a motel, and let us handle this.” The dad nodded and went inside to gather his family. Dean turned around to grab supplies from the trunk of the Impala. That’s when you noticed something off.

“Um…guys?” you said, pointing to the tires. All of them were slashed: the Impala, the car, and the U-Haul.

“Seriously?! What kind of ghost messes with a man’s wheels?!” Dean yelled, assessing the damage done. Sam opened up the trunk, finding it completely empty.

“Be honest with me,” you whispered, “how fucked are we?”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Dean swore. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.” His promise sent chills down your spine. He seemed so protective, it was making your knees weak. Of course you were swooning when you might not live to see tomorrow.

Sam gathered everyone back inside the house and rummaged around for salt and iron. While he drew out the salt circle on the living room floor, something was eating at you. And no, it wasn’t the intense fear that a ghost could pop out at any moment and kill you. There was something about this that was so…familiar. You’ve seen this before, but you can’t remember how it ends.

The sound of the closet door squeaking grabs everyone’s attention. A dirty, demented-looking little girl slowly creeps out of the darkness of the closet. The family screams.

“Everyone stay calm! As long as you stay inside the circle, she can’t hurt you,” Dean said. But that’s when it clicks for you – this is Family Remains. That’s not a fucking ghost.

Chapter 6

Tags 💛

@5tud10-54r4h  @deans-spinster-witch @nelachu2423 @nancymcl @nelachu2423 @ghxul-x @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @verypostcrown @thej2report @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @lino-se

[afniel]

Nevi Infodumps Upon Request: MMX2

Because god damn let's just make this its own thing and stop doing it on some other poor bastard's post, what did they to do deserve me happening to them.

Also I have to make a correction! There is no Z-Saber in X1, I just remembered that goofy. Zero doesn't give you shit if you upgraded your arm parts, he just dies. It doesn't even exist until X2. I have no idea why I thought that considering I played it recently enough but despite appearances I'm not known for my great recall of chronological order shit.

THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG POST AND I HAVE REMEMBERED THAT "MANNERS" EXIST SINCE YESTERDAY SO. I am using a cut. And lowering my voice. This too is "manners."

@longshotlink I have done the thing! It does not stop from happening.

OKAY SO TO RECAP.

Mega Man X1: *slaps X* this bad boy can hold so much survivor's guilt and self-loathing.

There, that's it, that's the recap you get.

My second favorite game in the series is X2 and you're about to find out that I like them in the order they came out in, so this is going to look chronological. It is not! Not really. This is a coincidence.

Six months after X got PTSD real bad from everyone he knows dying/being killed by him (except technically Dr. Cain I GUESS, I forgot he existed for a moment there) he's still tracking down Sigma's followers and presumably shooting the hell out them. He goes to an abandoned reploid factory with the Maverick Hunters, where Green Biker Dude dies after a glorious ten seconds of doing nothing but popping a sick wheelie on a Ride Chaser and getting shot to fuck.

Rip to a real one, I guess. Pour one out for Green Biker Dude while we're here.

(Because we source our art here, this is by Springqueen on DeviantART.)

X tears through the factory and kills a huge-ass mechaniloid—wait, you say, the hell is a mechaniloid, we got reploids but that hasn't come up yet? Well, see, there's normal robots, and there's people robots, and mechaniloids are the normal robots who aren't really self-aware, and you literally cannot predict who the fuck is which:

This is a sentient being, with a rich inner life and emotions equivalent to a human's! (Only the C-15 model from X1, though, after that they're mechaniloids.)

This man is just a really fancy computer who can't actually feel anything!

I am not even joking. This is canon. Figure it out! I sure can't. It is a mystery. Nothing makes sense and everything is confusing and quite possibly bad.

There are three dudes ominously watching X and talking about some kind of nonsense bullshit crap, and these guys are Agile, who is tall, smirky, and pointy; Serges, who is short, Dr. Wily, and pointy; and Violen, who is huge, dumb as a sack of hammers, and pointy.

No really, they're all kinda pointy. For some reason they specifically have pointy feet. And they're talking about 'the control chip' and being all m~y~s~t~e~r~i~o~u~s but let's just get it out of the way. These mofos are reassembling Zero for nefarious reasons. Why? Well, you see, when you're Keiji Inafune and you just made a game, even though you teased a sequel in the post-credits, you totally did not think this through (because you have never thought anything all the way through in your life and you are not beginning now!) and now you're stuck, because you WANTED to make Zero the main character, got talked out of it, and then somehow ended up killing your intended main character. And everyone else. The only surviving named characters are X and Dr. Cain, and like...now what, right? Shit. Fuck. You fucked it up. You were supposed to leave some guys for the sequel. Well uhhhh they're all robots, just...reassemble someone real fast. Like Zero. You wanted him to be the cool one anyway, let's try that again but not wrong this time!

But never mind that! It's all fixable. Everything is fixable. Even Zero! Well, no, X isn't fixable, he's a goddamn mess, but details, man.

This gets a LITTLE fucky to summarize because there's some branching paths, so I'm gonna flip back to the actual game side for a second. X2 actually fucking slaps as a game. It's got an extra math coprocessor in the cartridge! Did you know that? The Cx4 chip showed up again in MMX3, and was the reason X2 suddenly had WAY more onscreen sprites, transparency effects, and even 3D wireframe enemies. This shit was amazing on the SNES.

Also, X2 is another case of "oh no, these Mavericks are ex-Hunters again," so like. ACAB. Not all of the Mavericks are, but still more than none, which you'd hope would be the number. They have not learned shit about shit for vetting members. The call is coming from inside the house, guys! Maybe Hunter HQ should think about the implications of the fact that—*I am shot in the head by Keiji Inafune, who has never once thought something all the way through in his life and is not beginning now, killing me instantly*

In X1 there were basically three kinds of defector:

I'm So Bored Please God Kill Me Now

I Just Love Hitting Things

and

Whatever You Say Chief!

Well, and Storm Eagle's unfortunate little thing of

I Got My Ass Beat To Hell And Back Until I Said Fine I'll Kill The Humans With You Just To Make It Stop And All I Got Was This Terminate On Sight Designation T-Shirt

X2 is a little more varied than that. You now have the new exciting backstory flavors of

I Love Money More Than My Life And This Guy Promised Me A Raise, Sooooo... (Bubble Crab)

The Bad Guys Are Somehow Less Ableist Than The Good Guys (Overdrive Ostrich, who USED TO be able to fly, lost the ability in an accident, and retired because the Hunters were kind of treating him like damaged goods and he was over it. Editor's note I do not blame this dude at all, what the fuck!)

BLOCK OUT THE SUN (Flame Stag)

I Love Trash (Morph Moth, who was not a Hunter)

Idk I Was Already Doing Crimes, Might As Well (Crystal Snail, also not a Hunter)

Sigma Is My Literal Dad (Wire Sponge, made in one of Sigma's reploid factories. He came out wrong even for a Maverick. Good job, Sigma. Great quality control.)

There's Still No Virus In The Continuity But I Sure Caught It Somehow Anyway?? Help Me (Magna Centipede, who used to be in Zero's unit, but got 'brainwashed' somehow.)

(This happens a lot. This will keep happening. Zero collects subordinates who are just WAITING for an excuse. Also this will make a whole lot more sense once they retcon in the Maverick Virus and then MORE sense once they retcon in that it is coming from Zero specifically but we aren't there yet so right now it's just weird and kind of unfortunate!)

And you still have at least one I Just Love Hitting Things (Wheel Gator).

Also why are so many of these guys invertebrates? This is like the invertebrate game. X1 has two, but X2 has five of these things. (X3 has three, X4 has two again, X5 has three again, X6 has three, X7 only has one, and you will not see another game with five again until X8, the last one. I don't know why I went to count that.)

After X whacks a few of the Maverick stage bosses, there's a little cutscene at Dr. Cain's lab. The three shadowy weirdos from the intro call Dr. Cain to say like, "Hey, X, we named ourselves the X-Hunters for reasons you'll never be able to guess, and also we have Zero's parts. Meet us at the wherever the hell on the map we visibly teleport to after this in fifteen minutes for an ass-kicking." They hang up, Dr. Cain is like, "Well, it's fine, we still have Zero's control chip here and they can't really resurrect him without it, plus this is obviously bait, so maybe don't do anything too hast—"

X declares he's got to get Zero's parts back at any cost and runs the fuck off, because he's fine, okay. He doesn't wanna talk about it.

This scene is way more interesting in Japanese, where Serges and only Serges slips a bit and calls him Rockman X, which is sus, because nobody really mentions Rockman in the games, except for some reason Dr. Cain in English who calls him Mega Man X. Dr. Cain has actually read Dr. Light's notes so he's got at least a historical reason to be doing this, but Serges wouldn't know that shit, right? It is definitely unrelated that the Japanese materials describe Serges as having comparable intellect to a certain unnamed mad scientist. It is also certainly coincidence that despite Zero being an absolutely undocumented black box of a Wily creation, Serges somehow knows how to upgrade him too.

Let's assume for the plot that X does go through and collect all of Zero's parts, which is his head, torso, and legs. Now correct me if I'm wrong but his head did not actually fall off in X1...but meh, details, right? Once you have all three, Dr. Cain says he needs a little more time to get Zero's control chip installed, so go deal with the other Mavericks until then. Then, once you do that, he tells you it's going to take even MORE time, but hey, the X-Hunters are hanging out at the North Pole, like some kind of shitty dollar store Santa Clauses who come down your chimney and murder you. So X fucks off to the North Pole to do some violence, and shoots the hell out all three of the X-Hunters, like you do. In Japanese, Serges is kind of pissed that "Light's memento robot" defeated him, which again...yeah, that seems normal, nothing to see here!

Once X murderhobos his way through the rematch fights, he gets a random zoom call from Sigma, who invites him to come to the central computer in fifteen minutes for an ass-kicking, and once there he gets a nasty surprise: his buddy Zero is there, chilling, and Sigma is like, "Lol he's so mad that you let him die. Look at how upset he's getting. Look at his fists. They're balled. He wants to beat you up so bad." Except, assuming you collected all of Zero's parts, this is a shitty dollar store Zero with a palette swap, and the real Zero is offended as shit and shows up and kills the fuck out of his copy, saving you a fight. Sigma is like, "WHY are you not on my side though man you should be. You should totally be on my side and fighting him instead, it's your destiny." Zero's like, "Maybe so, but I still don’t like you!" <- Unlike almost everything else I keep putting in quotation marks, that's a real quote. I'm not making that one up. It's even better in Japanese because it's SO DISMISSIVE the way he says it. It's literally, "It's because I don't like you," but you'd almost have to localize it to something like "It's because I don't like your face," to convey the don't-give-a-singular-fuck disdain. He's just like, fuck your stupid destiny thing, do I look like the kind of person who cares.

I feel like this game is just kind of less interesting at the end than X1. Sigma did actually run off to Magna Centipede's level for his final stage for some reason, which is unusual. A lot of the implied angst in the first game exists, and X basically ignoring Dr. Cain's attempt at warning him to be careful because OH MY GOD WHAT IF HE CAN FIX THIS ONE THING AND MAYBE AT LEAST ONE PERSON HE CARES ABOUT WILL BE OKAY is pretty good. And once you blow up Sigma, he does have a little foreshadowing about Zero being "the last of the doctor's creations," or MUCH more specifically in Japanese, being "the last of the Wi...num...ers..." aka the Wily Numbers, aka Dr. Wily's robots, which is like...where'd you hear that, hm? Were you talking to that shady Serges guy again who was also basically your lieutenant? Couldn't be he's someone from the past who would know all this shit.

But I'm not gonna touch the epilogue just yet because let's say X decided that actually he should focus on the mission at hand and ignore these guys clearly trying to goad him into doing something stupid. Good call, X! You have finally learned a little self-preservation. Except, this goes badly actaully, because the X-Hunters will break into Dr. Cain's lab, not butcher him for some reason even though that would have been the logical thing to do if they really wanted to fuck with X and hamper his efforts, and steal all of Zero's parts, including his control chip.

I have a little headcanon about the reason they didn't bother, but I'll save that for a second or three later. For now...

X fucks off to the North Pole as before, deals with the X-Hunters (who are now shitty dollar store Santa Clauses who come down your chimney and STEAL YOUR DEAD FRIEND'S LEGS??), meets Sigma at the central computer, and Zero is there, only that's the real Zero, and X has to fight him. Maybe for the first time, but not for the last time, because reasons! X wins, which apparently slaps some sense into Zero, who for some reason apologizes for causing so much trouble (probably having been resurrected, reprogrammed, and then kicked in the head by your bestie until you're unreprogrammed makes you stupid) and says he's going to go destroy the main computer.

Wait, what main computer, like do you mean this entire stage? When did we ever establish about there being a main computer that needed to be destroooooh fine whatever go destroy the main computer and X can just fall down this hole where Sigma is. X is like, "Take care of yourself, Zero. I don't have time to put you back together again," and once again that's a real quote and I'm not just being flippant. Was that an attempt at humor? In Japanese it's just, "Do you intend to die?" which is like. God damn, X. I know this is the point in the game in which Zero exploded himself last time, but he JUST got here, he's not going to Death Hug the computer too. But ya boy is evidently having a flashback.

From there things proceed as normal, X defeats Sigma, and this time,

Two of them.

Joined by his friend Zero, Mega Man X gazes out over the sea. Sigma has once again been destroyed, but X wonders if the fighting will truly end. Was Dr. Light’s dream of a world in which Reploids and humans lived together in peace merely a dream? The price of peace is often high, X thinks to himself. Who or what must be sacrificed for it to become a reality? And when the time comes, will he be able to do it? The future holds the answers or…

It's a lot less of a downer than X1 was. The music is tense and kinda gloomy, but it's not the endless despair party that X1's ending theme was. X is like, okay, maybe this will work out. Sigma's defeated again, this sucks and all, but he's clearly the bad guy in this situation so there's less of an internal conflict about Was This The Right Thing To Do. Obviously so! It's less, was this right, and more, can I do this? And Zero's back, so maybe even some of the mistakes are fixable. It's not going to be easy, sure, but it at least feels possible.

Or maybe it's hopeless after all. Will the fighting truly end?

Haha, no. But don't tell him that right now, I don't think he could handle it. Can you imagine. Let the poor dude rest for five minutes. Just let him have this one little victory. God damn.

Anyway, let's leave those guys on their cliff and go over here instead for

HEADCANON TIME oh boy let's do it!!

So, it is not at all a stretch to say that Serges is probably some kind of AI incarnation of Dr. Wily. The game is not explicit about this, no, but it's heavily implied in the Japanese version, and Keiji Inafune, who has never thought anything all the way through in his entire life and is not starting now, is on record as having left it intentionally vague so that you can draw your own conclusions. Weird thing to tease, if there weren't a little truth to it.

This takes some of the later games' plot existing to make sense, but I don't think the X-Hunters really exist to be subservient to Sigma and just carry out his funny little genocidal reploid rampage. It's established that Zero was created by Dr. Wily, and if there's one thing that you can count on with Dr. Wily, it's that he is the kind of guy who will create a whole guy whose personality is summed up by, "I exist to kill this other guy and then after that I have no idea." He definitely did this with Bass. He definitely did this with Zero. In fact he went so overboard with Zero's Kill A Guy programming that Zero wanted to kill EVERY guy upon activation, which Sigma had to beat out of him (X4), making him weirdly normal.

(In fact the original recipe Maverick Virus was just a day-one patch for Zero's omnicidal bullshit tendencies to make him fucking stop it, dude, you have things to be doing that aren't creating new Pollock works all over the buried lab every time like a rat or something wanders in. But then because Wily is kind of a shit programmer but a really good scavenger of other people's shit, the day-one patch went, fine, you suck, I'm doing a world tour and getting stronger and coming back and FIXING YOU. Maverick Virus out.)

Now if you were some kind of AI version of Dr. Wily watching this—your favorite and final murder machine that you made specifically to kill Dr. Light's little baby-boo-bop hugs and love machine—and he is NOT doing that, he is in fact BECOMING BESTIES FOR LIFE with his enemy, this is not cool! This is just more proof that you are a bad programmer. Or, your original meatsuit self was a bad programmer, and now YOU are a program made of and by a bad programmer, which is arguably WORSE. It's enough to give a guy a FUCKING COMPLEX. Which is also a common thing to happen to any given Wily creation.

So your goal, here, because you think you're Dr. Wily or close enough to count, is to manipulate the situation into getting Zero to remember that he's supposed to be biting X to death with his teeth, not whatever the fuck pattycake he's playing with him right now, what the FUCK. WHAT the FUCK. Ahem.

If you have the X-Hunters kill Dr. Cain, well, that's not going to incentivize this happening at all. X is going to be so mad he kills you, and that's not optimal for shit. So fuck that guy. We ignore him. Unused variable. Just get Zero's parts and scram, because the important thing is rebuilding Zero, not fingerpainting with the innards of some human. (Even if Violen would probably be into that, but he's an idiot whose text box dialogue even appears more slowly than anyone else's, you can't listen to him if you want to get ahead in life.)

Sigma is really secondary to this too. He's very conveniently placed, and kind of easy to manipulate: just tell him that you know all about Zero (which is true) and that he's supposed to be on Sigma's side (which is close enough to true that he won't question it) and you can make this happen (you think you can. IT SHOULD WORK. Dammit. How bad of a programmer was your mental predecessor, anyway?). So Sigma kindly sets up everything for you, and you do your thing.

And they fight! Finally. It is glorious. Of course you are dead by the time this happens, probably, but maybe you aren't, because you have probably vacated your trashed-ass body into some other convenient system. (You will definitely not show up in X6 as some guy named Isoc, who upon finishing his work, goes absolutely inert like his whole-ass self just left his body, which you have definitely not just done and will not do again.)

EXCEPT GOD DAMMIT ZERO X HIT YOU IN THE HEAD HARD ENOUGH YOU CALMED DOWN AGAIN. GOD. DAMMIT. WHY THIS. FUCK. Okay, yeah, you're leaving. See y'all in X6, this sucks.

Anyway the real takeaway here is that Dr. Wily was just such a big fan of percussive maintenance that Zero occasionally needs to get beaten in the head with a wrench for a bit and then he's great for a while. If he starts twitching, that just means it's Wrench Time.

Anyway, that's X2, my second most favorite one.

Wire Sponge is a luffa, by the way. Loofah. However it's spelled.

This thing. That's what he is.

And I will not stop calling centipedes 'hyakuleggers' now because Magne Hyakulegger is way funner than Magna Centipede as a name.

[fallen--leafs]

The Fallen (7/8)

Wow.

Okay.

You all had quite turbulent and long times in the arena.... Let's go through them! Well, the first half of them.

Wick, you had some uh. Wavering motivations... Asking people to kill you not once, but twice! And yet. You saved my hypothetical life, as well as that of my bf and Honey (well, once,) which I am very grateful for!! By yourself, you did surprisingly well.. In a group, you were either absent for Honey's death or ended up fighting them... Which was your eventual demise too. Rip.

Harlow. Your stay in the arena was defined by making smart alliances to survive. You spent like, almost half your time in the arena (not just days - time) hunting other tributes, which, wow. That's dedication. And yet, the only actual kill you got in was Mattia. Weird how that works out huh! No but I'm sure you were making an earnest effort to hurt others, not just running with a group that wants that............. Good thing this isn't real life! :)

Henryyyyyyy. Dad. 🥺 You survived both of us!! Which is kind of ironic. Then again, as a hunter you would probably have the advantage if we got turned back into humans. You too spent your time in many an alliance, probably because you made so many friends opening your shack to others!! Why people ended up hunting you is beyond me but... Here we are. Maybe one of your friends should get you navigation tools next time. :/

Sorcha! You started your time here on uh. Several low notes. Right off the bat you lost a fight with Ieuan, though given their fate that may have been for the best; you got attacked by Kitty at the start of her villain arc, you destroyed a guy's supplies, and that didn't even kill him... At least not directly. And then got killed almost arbitrarily for your supplies. It's... Come to think of it, the low notes never really ended. The only time you got to chill was being part of a group, so maybe that's some advice for stuff like this? Don't Be Alone. And RIP.

Finally my boooyfrieeennnddd 🥰🥰 We made it out of the cornucopia mostly alright, though u did get cut up somehow 🥺 But it's fine. We took care of you, Honey of you and me & Wick of the both of you. You too made alliances, even with some cammies!! Very impressive. You just,,, unfortunately wandered off into the wrong parts of the arena. :/ Happens to the best of us. No fault of your own. Rip :/

... more in the next post!

[avatar-idv]

what exactly happened during your game? (i saw u wanted to talk abt his lore so teehee)

my game, eh? well, that's certainly a story, so i guess we can go over it. let's start at the very beginning, before me.

essentially, the game was between five people, as all games are. some games have dedicated hunters, some don't. this one did. dorothea was her name, but she went by Cinderella. she was a serial killer from the area, killed people with a glass shard before cutting off their feet as a calling card. real sick chick. as for the four others, there was the therapist, the sniper, the engineer, and... stanley. i don't know what his whole deal was, i never got to meet him. he was eliminated before the game started, technically by me. not that it was intentional.

when i got thrown into this world, my soul got put into whoever had the least mental fortitude to resist it. that ended up being him. so now im in this guy's body and who knows where his soul ended up, if anywhere. that's why the called me the avatar. cause i was using someone else's body like they were... well, an avatar.

anyways now ive replaced stanley and the game starts. cinderella kills the engineer, which honestly sucks cause she was probably the kindest person there. i liked her a lot. then something funky happened, turns out the therapist is really some kinda drug lord and he stuck cinderella with a shit ton of morphine and she was dead as hell.

now that would've been the end of it but then the guy went batshit insane, probably cause of some chemicals from the manor or something. anyways he starts calling himself the supplier. and im like, shit, guess we've got a new hunter. anyways the sniper and i manage to open the gates and she gets the hell out of there, good for her. i wasn't done though. i couldn't let that backstabbing bastard get out of this unscathed.

so i went back in. found a flair gun in one of those boxes. shot him. jumped on him. and then i just kinda... ripped him apart. and then i left. i don't think the manor is gonna try to get me back after that.

[leomonae]

This is, quite obviously, not the whole of it; the whole of it is just as much in all of the many things Tav didn't do, as it is in the ones she did. Every time she defied all of Astarion's expectations, all the way back to the night he tried to bite her and she inexplicably declined to try and kill him for it. This is the point where it properly started, though; the first time he saw her as a person, rather than just a mark:

“So what monster are you hunting?” Tav asks the Gur, and oh, hells, she’s about to get them all involved in something both pointless and a waste of their very limited time again, isn’t she?

The only thing that stops Astarion from immediately starting to fantasise about this hunter’s gruesome death is that fact that he was already doing so.

“Oh, something terrifying, no doubt,” Astarion comments, snide. “Dragon? Cyclops? Kobold?”

The Gur, annoyingly enough, seems more amused than offended.

“Nothing so dramatic. I’m hunting for a vampire spawn named Astarion,” the Gur says, and Astarion freezes, mind utterly blank for a moment of sheer, all-encompassing terror. Fortunately for his own immediate survival, though, he’s long since learned how to show no outward indication of such feelings.

Well. Mostly no reaction, anyway. He shouldn’t do it, he knows he shouldn’t do it, but his eyes slide sideways to check for Tav’s reaction all the same; to try and gauge what she’s going to do. And while he finds her already looking his way, herself, her expression remains as dispassionate and unreadable as ever, damn her to the depths of the Hells.

“But I fear he's gone to ground,” the Gur continues. “I was hoping the hag of these lands could help me flush him out, but it seems she is no more.”

Tav gives a thoughtful-sounding hum. “And when you find this Astarion? You’ll kill him?”

“Not this time,” the Gur says, shrugging. “My orders are to capture him.”

Tav doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the information, any more than she had by the prospect of Astarion’s potential death at the Gur’s hands.

You idiot, Astarion thinks to himself, furious. You absolute fucking moron, you drew it out too long and now it’s too late. Should have bedded her a week ago, if not before, but no, you just had to keep putting it off, pretending you were trying to build her anticipation. Coward. Witless fool. If I make it out the other side of this still alive and free, that’s it; no more delays, none. I’ll proposition her right over that damned Gur’s dead and cooling corpse, if I only get the chance.

“That seems a bit odd,” Tav comments. “All this for just a spawn? Not like it’s a real vampire.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Astarion hears his mouth saying, with a distant sort of horror, while he’s too busy yelling at himself to control it properly. “I’m sure a vampire spawn could still rip out your throat. If he felt like it.”

Oh gods I really just said that didn’t I, even if she doesn’t take it as a genuine threat to her I just reminded her, reminded a fucking cleric that I’m a danger to others, annoying her with more of my constant witless prattle would’ve been bad enough but for this she’s going to -

And then Astarion’s thoughts grind to a halt in the space of a single heartbeat, because Tav – Tav laughs.

Oh, not out loud, of course; the only sound that issues forth from her is a rather abrupt cough and a clearing of her throat. She hastily shifts her weight and folds her arms, lifting one hand to hold it against her mouth in a loose fist as she adopts a grave, concerned expression, and gives the Gur a nod. But from this angle, Astarion can see the quivering of her lower lip beneath the screen of her hand. Just as he saw the merriment sparkling in her eyes, the way the skin at the corners of them started crinkling up, before she forced down her nascent smile.

Oh, Astarion thinks, helplessly.

The Gur’s prattling on about vampires and their dangers now, but Astarion barely hears a word of it; Tav’s looking at him again, and she – she’s not quite so unreadable after all, suddenly. Nor does she look angry, or outraged. Her gaze is warm, maybe even a little fond, and she -

“Yes,” Tav agrees, to whatever the Gur’s just said, not looking away from Astarion. “I’m sure they can creep right up on you when you’re least expecting it.”

Not too late after all, Astarion thinks, with a rush of dizzying relief, and as he opens his mouth to say something about them dealing with this threat – the Gur, of course, not himself, Tav will take his meaning just fine – he can’t help but foolishly hope that maybe his upcoming night spent getting on his back for her will prove to be one of the more... tolerable nights of his endless, miserable existence.

That perhaps securing the protection of this infuriatingly reckless, soft-hearted, meddlesome servant of one of the gods of the Triad, with all those lovely, equally divinely empowered allies he’s rather hoping she can call upon, back in Baldur’s Gate… maybe it won’t require quite as much gritting of his teeth and forcing a smile as he’s been expecting. Quite as much trying to pretend to be something he most certainly is not as he’s been fearing.

Foolish boy, Cazador’s voice whispers in his head, while Tav and the Gur continue with their back-and-forth that finally seems to be reaching a clear enough impasse for her sensibilities. You think that anyone has the patience to put up with your -

Shut up, Astarion interrupts, euphoric, and grasps his daggers in the wake of Tav’s nod of permission. You can just shut up. I’m going to kill your hunters. I’m going to kill you. And she’s going to help me.

I made a jest about ripping out her throat and she laughed.

Why Did Astarion Fall For Your Tav

Previously I did a post about why my Tav fell for Astarion, so I thought it would be interesting to see the reverse, why did Astarion fall for her.

Astarion isn't very fond of Serafina (Sera) at the outset. She's sweet, kind, and fairly quiet. Plus everyone seems to like her, she's too perfect. But he learns quickly her kindness seems to extend to everyone, even him. So he goes in for the manipulation plan.  

After an argument about yet another side quest to help some rando, Astarion learns Sera isn't just nice and kind naturally, she talks about making it a conscious choice. Somehow, he finds the effort admirable. 

Over time, he begins to catch glimpses of something underneath the surface; nightmares of the family she left behind, moments where she falters and self-doubt overtakes, a stare that goes off into the distance for leagues when she should be smiling or laughing. Sera is wearing a mask, much like his own and no one sees it but him, a mask he can't ask about because she won't, or can't, speak of her past. 

She's strong all the time, and she takes care of everyone around her, he starts to believe maybe she needs someone to take care of her. Not that he thinks he'll be any good at it. But he sometimes feels the strangest urge to repay all her kindness to him. 

Not only is Sera kind though, as she opens up, he finds her to be intelligent and witty. She has no problem trading sassy words with him, but never pokes at his past, and she's well-read to discuss some of his favorite books.

What surprises him though is the fun, she'll laugh at his dirty jokes and tell one her own. They whisper to each other on the road, sharing lighthearted gossip about the rest of their companions. When he finally surrenders to his feelings and they start sharing a tent, there’s even the occasional incredible instance of her tickling him as they cuddle at night or playfully biting him. It’s the kind of intimacy he doesn't know if he’s ever had, a lover and a friend.

And there are nights she doesn't want sex, and seems happy enough to just lay there with him, wrapped around each other. He knew there were feelings growing, but nights with someone who wanted to listen to him, to hold him, to just be with him, made him realize just how far gone he was. 

That’s when he can’t contain it anymore, he wants something real. 

Tags; but anyone can play! @tallymonster @spacebarbarianweird @bhaalbaaby @vixstarria

@wickedwitchofthewilds @bunnidarling @marcynomercy @leomonae @evillittlebirdie

[lolita-lollipop]

can u plz write story abt parental ydere kirishina+bakugo(sry idk what u call them) they r naga like snakey thingy. faund y/n when she sleep at the trees an kep her

sry my eng very bad i try very best to explian

No it’s fine! As long as I can get what your saying,I can write!

You’d been peacefully sleeping,nothing more, nothing less, previously, you had been running through the vast forests of these lands, trying to hunt anything for your family’s dinner that night, you found yourself empty handed by the end of the night. And completely exhausted, your parents would probably kill you for real if you came back with nothing, and you were so sore and tired right now, you probably couldn’t fight back. Sleeping out here in the middle of the woods was better than going home to that monstrosity, so sleep in the woods you did.

Of course when you’d gotton in the tree you wouldn’t recognize the divots, the large holes that any hunter would recognize as a bags hatchling. You were too tired to notice the sticky substance you sat in, nor how the nestle in the tree was shaped to hold something in. You didn’t notice.

It took a lot of effort, but you’d managed to climb an oak tree and settled yourself into a crook of a large branch. You pulled the thin blanket out of your pack, it wasn’t great, but it was warm enough to keep you asleep. That’s all you needed. When you’d slipped off into the depths of unconsciousness you failed to notice the slithering tail cooling itself away from your little nook.

———

On the other side of this story. We’re two Naga mourning the loss of many little ones, the humans on the nearby village has found out of their presence. And had figured out that they lived high up in the trees where hunting was more than easy. They’d killed many that day, so focused on slaughtering the retched beings, that they hadn’t thought to protect their nest. The place where there were almost 8 fully healthy naga eggs just waiting to hatch.

The humans had gotton there first , and by the time the two creatures made it back, their once lovely tree had been reduced to a massacre. They could only stare at the almost developed bodies of their children, screaming out in agony as the grief set in. Kirishima, the one with a scaly red tail that glimmered with every passing light, had collapsed in the ash of the humans burnt corpses, seeking blood, carnage for their slaughtered babies.

And seek blood they did, they slithered into the nearby village without so much as a sound, and ripped every last humans beck out, uncaring to the age, or gender. All humans are vile, destructive creatures who do nothing but take and destroy, they took the lives of their unborn children, and all of them would pay. It just so happened that this occurred, right after a young h/c girl left for a hunt. What a suprise it would’ve been if you’d come back to your village and seen the destruction, too bad you never came back.

When the blonde haired beast picked up on a new scent in the area, one that he could almost recognize, one that smelled sweet like a honey flower, he went to see what creature emmited this scent. Anything to take his mind off of the massacre this tree reminded him of. His tail coiled all the way around the wood as he ascended, making little hissing noises here and ther. Then, he saw it. You. Covered in some sort of thin cacoon. So small, so little.

Looks like you were abandoned here by your parents, whatever kind of creature you were, you were small and defenseless, what kind of parent would do that for their baby? He would kill

Kill

For a chance to get all his little ones back, and here some terrible parents are abandoning you. It must be fate? You, abandoned, in their tree, crooked in one of their former children’s nesting spots, where they would’ve held their little ones to calm them. You were there for a reason, the goddes was repaying for the cruelty they went under. That’s why his primal instincts were flashing red like alarms! You were their little one!

He let out an almost soundless hiss, hovering over your sleeping figure. He lifted the blanket up off of you, making sure it wasn’t attached in any way, curiosity sparked in him when it revealed a colorful layer of skin wrapped around you, it seemed deatachable, like the rattle of a tail. Under, was skin unlike his own, soft, squishy skin, no scales in sight. Two legs replaced the normal tail, it’s alright! He doesn’t mind if his baby’s a little… different. You are his after all, he’ll love you anyway.

After a few moments of marveling in gratitude for the gods, the blonde snake-hybrid let out a screech, low pitched and rumbling, soundless to any other creatures than Naga themselves.

It was a short announcement to his mate, telling him to stay in place, that there might be hope after all. And in an instant, the blondes tail wrapped firmly around you, coiling under your waist and wrapping tight, both to keep you from falling from his grip onto the harsh forest floor, and to keep you all warm and happy. It’s funny how such a cold blooded creature could bring such warmth. He brought you up to cradle you in his (extremely long) arms, clutching you ever so slightly, pure happiness overriding him with the sweet smell of you.

He made his way up the tree slowly, careful not to squeeze ever too tightly, or drop you. Smiling when he caught you nuzzling closer, a parents touch is much better than any cacoon thing right? He knows you like it. In reality you were too exhausted to wake, turned out walking with a bow strung for over seven hours is taxing on a body that hasn’t eaten in two weeks, it worked out into be creatures favor. A lot.

Kirishima popped his head out of a nook inside the tree, being warned by the incoming slithers of a tail he could recognize as his own mates, just to be met face to face with you. It shocked him for a second, before he was hit with the realization, you smelled like one of his own, like one of his slaughtered children, he looked up at bakugo, eyes watering, he just nodded and sent him a smile.

Then,it clicked in kirishimas head

And immediately, kirishima was crying again. HE HAD ONE LEFT! His little baby was still alive! He dipped his arms under you swiftly, holding you tight to him while uncontrollably sobbing out, utterly in disbelief, he’d spent the past three days mourning his lost little ones, and one was left unharmed? He couldn’t believe it! He placed his head into the crook of your stomach, nuzzling closer and enjoying your sweet scent.

Of course, the sudden quick movement. Paired with the loud, almost shriek like noises coming from the snake creature, woke you up in an instant, your eyes fluttered for a moment while you comprehended everything, then you screamed.

Your hand shot up to push the things face away from your stomach, now fully understanding what was happening… kinda. You knew that you were no longer where you fell asleep, that both your blanket and bag were not with you anymore, and that something was just about to take a bite out of your stomach, and it was in no way human. His grip tightened on your legs as you failed to push it back, you felt your lungs constrict as your own tears started flowing out.

He did nothing but air there and hold you in attempts of comfort, believing this was all screams of confusion, his friends had warned him that children would be scared and flustered , because of the oversensitive eyes they were born with, light was hard to adjust too, and you didn’t seem to have anything to shield your little eyes, like all the others were born with. Or, should have been born with.He was kindof right though, you were screaming out of pure confusion. And slight horror at the human face with slots for eyes, and scaly fingers.

You waited for death, and then realized, why hadn’t it just taken a chomp out of you already? What you could identify as a man snake thing was just wrapping itself around you, shielding your eyes from the rising sun and midnight cold, he rubbed your back, squishing the skin on your shoulders in sight fascination. It made no move to eat you. Then, it hit you.

This was a naga, your mother had explained you to beware of these beasts whenever in the forests. You lived in old, ancient areas, with ancient creatures. Supposedly, these creatures were vicious to any others who impeded on their nests, especially when they had hatchlings littered about, they could turn Simone to stone with a single glacé (at least in the myths), but you were staring straight into its eyes, and even though they weren’t human, you really didn’t feel like there was any hostility there. And it clearly wasn’t aiming or hurt you.

Still, you screamed and screamed and screamed, hoping someone else would hear you, no one did. They were all dead. Not that you knew that, the creature just continued his attempts at comfort, while the other made its way into the tree. You tears were mistaken for ones of being overwhelmed, your cute little tries at clawing his eyes out were confused for affectionate rubs, and your cry’s were nothing but noises of a confused baby.

By the time that the blonde has slithered down into the large tree, you’d come to the realization that they currently weren’t trying to murder you, and had calmed down, to some extent. Still, questions zipped in and out of you like arrows through a deer, nagas were creatures of god, so why would they show any concern for a human like you? And how the hell hadn’t you known there was a nest right by your village. And what the fuck was it doing with your shirt?

It hissed, flicking his tongue at your hands when you tried to pull the shirt back on, he’s just pulling the extra weight off! His friends had told him that some hatchlings could be born with some extra skin that needed to be shed, and needed help. He was just doing it for you! The grey blouse lay discarded on the groun, while he tried to pull the rest off, noticing how it made you scream even more. Was he… scaring you? Oh gods no! That wasn’t what he intended! You must be a little confused right? Why would HIS child be scared of him.

Bakugo felt the need to interfere at some point, knowing that his mate believed you were their biological little hatchling, that you come from them, even though you didn’t. You were gifted to them by some higher power, he couldn’t crush that hope though. Plus, you might actually be theirs, by some small chance, maybe there were two in once egg, and you’d been the one to survive. That would explain why you’re so small. Kirishima just looked so happy, so content now that he had someone to take care of again, to protect, to know that all this paid off with a. Beautiful little. baby.

He thought for a moment, watching you cry, then all thoughts of sharing that secret left his head, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t rather. It would probably end in you more scared, and it isn’t my like he hasn’t been longing to have a little one just as much as his mate, you are just a baby anyway, you are their little one, who cares if you’re a little odd, and don’t have a tail. Not him. He’ll wait to tell.

Or maybe, he’ll just convienently “forget”

And no one will ever know

———

Hehheheheh, not even gonna lie I enjoye staid way more than I should’ve, the idea of nagas are so cool.

Anyway, thanks for requesting! It was really fun to write and I’m sorry it’s so late!

Have the most wonderful of days today! Goodbye!

[its-deputy-caleb]

does the vdl gang include sadie because 😢😢😢😢😢 my lesbian meow meow SKLSKDKSJS but if u do!!! i was wondering if you could write a post-game sadie (bounty hunting, gun-slinging, gaslight gatekeep girlboss)/female reader where sadie is being paid to bodyguard rich/high-profile reader thank u so much 😭

hell yess it does, now warning i've never written for sadie so this might be terrible but i gave it a go! i hope you enjoy this!! :))

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

Gosh you absolutely hated your father sometimes. Not only had he ruined your plan for a relaxing weekend but he had dragged you off to one of his business parties again.

You had all these plans to get new dresses fitted at the tailor in Blackwater before heading home for a warm bath on your families Estate. You were so excited too, since the entire property would be yours for three days. Granted that didn’t include the array of maids, bodyguards and groundkeepers that worked on the Estate but for three peaceful days both your parents and siblings would be out of your hair.

That was until you received a letter from you father requesting you be dressed in your finest gown and make your way to Saint Denis immediately in order to arrive by sundown. Your family had been in the oil industry for many generations now and were extremely wealthy, even more so with the downfall of Leviticus Cornwall and these business parties were just one of the many responsibilities you had to attend to.

The whole point of the party is to make polite pleasantries with potential business partners and establish connections on to where your family’s company could grow. And it was so, so boring.

As you walk down the steps you see a young woman leaning against the carriage with a shotgun in hand. She’s dressed in slacks and a red waistcoat and a large leather jacket draped over her shoulders. Her beautiful golden hair is just peaking out from underneath her hat and her soft amber eyes match it perfectly. Wait a minute…beautiful??

“Who the hell are you?”

You hear her scoff before she rolls her eyes at your bluntness, some may call it rude but you’ve always preferred blunt or honest. Your father always told you that was more lady-like.

“Don’t get so upset Missy, I’m Sadie, your bodyguard until the regular guy comes back. I’m only here to take you to Saint Denis and I’ll be long gone.”

You huff angrily as you hold your hand out to her waiting for her to help you onto the carriage but she never does. Fine, you’ll do it yourself.

“It’s Madam to you and his name is Hamish.”

You hear her mumble a ‘whatever’ under your breath and get comfortable in the carriage. You signal to the driver up front to get the carriage moving as you watch Sadie mount her horse and ride up front. It was going to be a long ride to Saint Denis.

-

To say the ride was long was an understatement. You spent the first two hours staring at the seconds go by on your platinum gold pocket watch and twiddling with the ends of the ribbon in your hair. It was all rather boring until there was yelling from outside.

Fear wells in your stomach at the riders approaching, all heavily armed and with a murderous look in their eye. You anxiously grip the side of the carriage, looking out the window as Sadie and the two other guards aim their weapons high.

When the shooting starts, you hide between the lush velvet seats of the carriage, doing your best to avoid the gunfire. You’d never been one to defend yourself, its why your father had guards do it for you. You could’ve never matched to a woman like Sadie. So you’re complimenting her now? You’re in the middle of being shot at!

All your thoughts are interrupted by a scream, one you’ve now realised is your own as the carriage is flipped and sent you flying. Your back hits the door which barges open under the force of your body hitting it, leaving you lying in a puddle of mud.

You’re frozen for a moment, your body still trying to catch up with your adrenaline riddled mind. What the hell just happened?

Eventually the shooting stops and Sadie is running over to you in a panic to see if you’re okay. Her hair has fallen from her pony tail and strands of her blond hair blow over red cheeks from running.

“Are you alright?!”

“You ruined my dress, look at it! I can’t go to the party like this— and my hair! Oh my god my hair!”

Sadie stops dead in her tracks. Here she was worrying over your safety after not only saving your life but putting her own at risk and you’re more worried about your hair.

“Now listen here Missy, I did not put my ass on the line to save you just so you could whine about your— Oh jeez you’re bleeding.”

She rips her leather glove off with her teeth before bringing her surprisingly soft hand to your face. Its then you realise the cut on your cheek bone that must have come from the shattered glass of the window when you fell out.

You’re lost for words, mumbling incoherently under her touch as she takes the ribbon from your hair and begins to use it to stop the small trickle of blood there. She’s so concentrated and focused on your wound that you can’t help but blush under her intense gaze, feeling like the fool for speaking out.

“I’m sorry…”

She sighs, dropping the bloodied ribbon and puts her gloves back on.

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry for Missy, common now, let’s get you to the party.”

She takes your hand and leads you to her horse which is huge up close. Much larger than when you saw it back at the Estate. Her arm comes to wrap around your waist so she can hoist you up and sit you side saddle on her horse before hopping on herself.

When she starts riding you nearly fall of the large creature and wrap your arms around her waist out of fear of slipping. Sadie voiced that she didn’t mind you holding on and the rest of the ride was spent making pleasant small talk.

You learnt that Sadie’s horse was called Hera and that she was her pride and joy. She worked in all sorts of jobs as a gun for hire, working as a bounty hunter and personal body guard most of the time, she even told you of her most recent bounty of Shane Finley.

You were amazed at how brave and wild Sadie was. How she didn’t fear working on a job that could get her killed at any moment, no she didn’t shy away from it— instead she ran straight towards danger.

“I feel like such a bore compared to you, all I do is attend parties and lounge around the Estate all day. When I’m feeling extra adventurous its a trip to the store for some cakes and maybe a new dress not hunting and killing.”

You can hear her smile in front of you, a little laugh coming from under her nose.

“I’ve met plenty’a boring rich folk Missy, you are not one of them. For starters most of them don’t find themselves falling out of carriage windows on their way to dinner parties.”

The playful tone is enjoyable for you both and it continues through the rest of the ride. It seems like ‘Missy’ is a nickname that’ll be sticking with you for the meantime but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the way it made you smile and your heart skip a beat.

-

It was dark by the time Sadie pulled up to the party, hitching Hera and this time, taking your hand to help you down. Her hand didn’t leave yours until you were standing out the front gates where she dusted as much of the mud off your dress as she could muster. Her hand came to her neckerchief and untied it before ripping it in half.

You gasp at what she was doing to the fine fabric before she was tying it in your hair where the ribbon had sat, tucking the loose strand behind your ear.

“Now you’re looking like a real lady.”

She gives you a gentle nod before making her way back over to her horse.

“Wait! You’re not coming in? I thought you were gonna protect me?”

Sadie gives you a soft but broken smile, one that says she’s trying not to hurt your feelings.

“I handle outlaws and thieves not parties for the rich, you’ll handle yourself just fine Missy. Ain’t no more for me to do I’m afraid.”

You take her hand in yours squeezing it in a silent plea for her to stay. Despite the rough beginnings, you’re actually enjoying her company and would hate to see her leave.

“Will you wait for me…please?”

-

When the party ends you sigh defeatedly. You’re tired and worn out from today’s attempted robbery and excruciating party. You’re expecting to do home in one of your father’s carriages when you spot Sadie leaning against wall with a cigarette in her hand.

“Common Missy, It’s my job to see you home safe.”

That night as Sadie led you home on the back of Hera, your arms came to wrap around her as they had before. You cuddled up to her as you let out a soft yawn and slowly began to drift off to sleep. Your head rested on her shoulder as you slowly let sleep consume you, a large smile on your face.

Needless to say you now have a new personal body guard.

[aenaxes]

lo-fi

[crosshair & tbb x afab/f!reader] it's been a tough campaign, so you and crosshair decide that the boys in the field can listen in, as a treat.

warnings: unprotected vaginal sex, consensual exhibitionism/voyeurism, polyamory, improper use of comms, crosshair being snide

w/c: 3.9k

a/n: phone sex? broke. comm sex? woke. rip @ u when the rest of the boys get back to the ship :/ (ps: thank u for 130! big mwah)

“Area’s been cleared. No sign of any seppies here,” Hunter’s weary voice wakes you with a start, crackling over your comm as you lift your head off the familiar height of Crosshair’s shoulder. “We’ll set up camp and head back at first light.”

“Better use the ‘fresher when you get back; you’ll stink up the whole ship,” Crosshair drawls back from beside you and evades you with an easy grin as you sleepily jab at his side.

Mean, you mouth at him with a frown, and the sniper simply shrugs back.

“We’ll see you soon. Love you all, y/n over,” you say, leaning over into Crosshair’s comm.

You receive a slightly disoriented chorus of ‘love you, too’s and ‘love you, cyar’ika’s from the brothers in the field, all blended together over frequency static and the sheer exhaustion of four rotations trekking through the marshy Balnab underbrush. Luck on your side, as navigator, you had escaped the dreary fate of noxious swamp gas and heat rashes in the unlikely case that the boys might need a quick exit.

But luckier still, Crosshair had stayed behind with you, citing your very real lack of combat training as grounds to have at least one of the brothers stay behind and stand guard. After all, volunteer corps boot camps could only teach you so much. And donning that trademark grin that made you either want to kiss him senseless or smack him upside the head (depending on your mood), Crosshair had innocently claimed that if he couldn’t see through the gaseous atmosphere, how could he know where to aim, much less shoot?

(You use your karkin’ scope, shitwad, Echo had said with the sickliest smile possible, and even he couldn’t help but join in when you and the boys all erupted into uncontrollable laughter.)

Suffice to say, Crosshair had spent the last two days holed up in the Marauder with you, a couple games of gin rummy, and a few steep new favors owed to his brothers’ grumbling.

For all the cool circulating air and dehumidifier settings in the Marauder’s helm, with the viewport fogged by the greenish atmospheric haze and your only task to wait for either a distress or all-clear signal, the little card games had gotten predictable after the second day. You had been tempted, out of some combination of boredom and fantasy, to prompt a game of strip poker (though Crosshair’s various bits of armour would have given him the indubitable upper hand, even with his horrible poker face).

Tempted, not even tried. You were all too aware of the uneasy stress of the mission outside, that low-lying tension and anticipatory dread staving off any coy desire to take advantage of your time alone with Crosshair.

But now, with the all-clear signal loud and clear through the comms, there’s little holding your inhibitions back when Crosshair reaches up and ruffles your hair after you click off his comm. Regardless of how innocuous his touch may be, heat rushes to your cheeks as you lean into his palm.

“Needy,” Crosshair chuckles, quick to catch on to your preening under his hand.

“I’ve been so patient,” you exhale a grand sigh, your voice carrying the petulant playfulness that never fails to pull Crosshair into the chase. And based on the lopsided grin twisting over his lips, you’ve got him exactly where you want him. “Don’t tell me you aren’t feeling at least a little bit of the same.”

“You’re insatiable,” he snarks. But he’s already rising to his full stature and crowding you back against the nearest surface, his hands firm and insistent over your waist as the backs of your knees meet the cool holotable steel.

“Right,” you retort, lifting your chin and baring your neck to him when he dips his head low to kiss over your pulse. The first touch is always careful—it comes with the territory, sharpshooting, all calculated movements with little space for error—but Crosshair’s intentionality is no less desirous, mouthing over your skin as you feel one hand drag slow and heavy up from your waist to your neck. “I’m the needy one.”

“You’re the enabler,” Crosshair mumbles into your skin, and you can’t help the dreamy sigh that passes your lips when you feel his fingertips knead soft, slow motions over the base of your neck. “I’m just running with the punches.”

“Maker, you suck at talking sexy,” you laugh, brighter still when you feel Crosshair’s soft exhale over your skin as he stifles laughter of his own.

“Then let’s not,” he says and lifts his head to offer you a wry smile. Before you can humor any more dry banter, Crosshair pulls you flush against the hard lines of his chestplate, one hand curled over the base of your head and the other sliding around the small of your back, and swallows any words you had with his tongue.

Second nature, you lift your arms to curl over his shoulders and anchor him close.

Crosshair takes your invitation with ease, pressing his tongue over your lips before he gently shifts you up to seat you on the holotable edge and slots between your thighs. It doesn’t take the firm weight of his hand to have you rocking forward to meet him in a slow grind, and you lift one knee, hooking your calf over the hard edge of his thigh guard and pulling him closer still.

He pulls back, and you respond with a petulant whine, weakly tugging on his hip with your leg. Crosshair laughs, little but a soft huff, but one that has equal parts desire and frustration rising in your chest. Seeming to have caught on, Crosshair only leans forward enough to meet you with a chaste touch of his lips, but, desperate for more, you take the brief window of opportunity to reach up and tug his head to yours.

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” you mumble insistently, punctuating your request with a soft nip over Crosshair’s top lip. You gasp when you feel his gloved fingers grab, twisting your hair tight under his fist and tearing you from his lips.

“Don’t be fucking rude,” he snarks back, his brows raised in playful challenge. “You take what you get,” he snarls, his lips curled up in a sharp grin as he yanks your head to the side and he dips close. You feel his breath fan over your skin, a brief and heady warning before he crowds you close and drags his tongue from the edge of your jaw to the highest crest of your cheek.

Desire, sweet and cloying, curls over your spine as he steps back, leaving you in a dazed sort of stupor as you watch him make quick work of the plastoid secured over him. It takes you a moment to collect yourself, ready to launch a snide remark his way, but whatever you intended to say is far beyond coherent thought, let alone expression. He finally closes that small distance between you, presses the hard lines of muscle and sinew close between your thighs, and your head falls back against the cold tabletop as you sigh.

He’s overwhelming, intoxicating, and you can’t get enough.

It’s different between each of them. There is careful intention with Hunter, playful and boyish glee in Wrecker’s arms, the stern edge of authority when Echo presses you against the wall, Tech’s rosy warmth when he kisses you sweet. But Crosshair offers you the snide challenge, the push and pull of teasing one-upmanship when he shoots you a smug grin, pushes your thighs open, and spits onto your cunt.

“Probably didn’t need to do that,” he says a bit mildly as he brings two calloused fingers up against your cunt and gently parts your swollen sex. You might have mistaken his soft exhale as laughter when you clench down around achingly empty space, but you know better. As he lifts his hand to your lips and pushes your own arousal past your lips, watching you take his fingers deep and suck, you know better. (It’s awe.)

“Fuck off, and fuck me,” you moan around his fingers, gently nipping over his skin.

“Are you really in any position to be making demands?” Crosshair snorts and pushes his fingers down against the flat of your tongue. You bite his fingers a little harder in response, and vindictive justice crows over the haze of lust in your chest when he hisses through a grin.

“Oh, please. You want this more than I do,” you roll your eyes, crinkling your nose as he smears your own spit over your lips before he pulls away.

Catching the slight part in Crosshair’s lips, you ready another snide retort. There’s an art to foreplay with Crosshair’s cynicism. But any coherent thought promptly dies on your tongue when, instead of a snappy comeback, Crosshair kneads one hand tight over your hip, presses the blunt head of his cock up against your cunt, and pushes.

It doesn’t get old—you don’t suspect it ever will—the satisfying burn pooling warm in your gut when Crosshair anchors you to the holotable and stretches you open. For that one, long moment, the clever, biting banter you share has vanished, leaving only slow, hitching breaths and the cresting ache of want to fill its place. You don’t hold the same playful joy of victory over his head when you open your eyes to see him groan, too enraptured by your own pleasure, by the gorgeous picture he presents you, his brows furrowed and eyes fluttered shut, to poke fun at how he bows over the table edge and braces himself over you with a stuttering inhale.

You cry out with him when you finally feel him press as deep as he can, the trembling muscle of his thighs molded up against your skin. Crosshair dips low, close enough that you feel his every heaving inhale brush against your chest, and you only see love, love, love, raw and tender and so, so good when you look through your lashes and catch the warmth in his dark eyes.

That this was it, that you were as good as it would ever get.

“Ready?” he whispers, play hinting at the edges of his voice as he strokes his thumb over your hip.

“Is that even a question?” you giggle.

Silent discretion isn’t necessarily something you strive for, not since the boys heartily accepted your trembling confession that one just wasn’t enough. You’ve long since learned to dismiss any flare of bashful embarrassment that might have you clap your hand over your mouth when Echo pulled you into the nearest room or Wrecker decided that he couldn’t wait for the few quick steps between the armory and the bunk hall. But it’s obscene, the sound that bubbles up from your throat when Crosshair abruptly pulls out of your dripping cunt and shoves himself back in full.

Too high on the euphoria heavy and thick in your throat, you barely register the soft kiss he presses to the corner of your mouth before he rises up and begins fucking into you in earnest. Your eyes flutter open when you feel his rough fingertips dig into the junction of your thigh and hip, trailing low for a brief, uncertain moment before he finds your clit and presses firm over where you part around him. And when you strain your ears above the breathy whines spilling from your lips, when you squeeze down around him with a soft sob, you hear him gasping with you.

This was really as good as you would ever need it to get.

“Wait,” you laugh a bit breathlessly, squirming under his touch. “Wait, let’s call them.”

Crosshair fixes you with something like morbid intrigue, his gentle, firm movements over your clit falling still so he can offer you the unspoken question behind a quirked brow.

“The area’s clear; they’re tired; morale’s low, you know. I think it’d be fun,” you rationalize as a coy smile grows on your lips.

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about this entire campaign?” Crosshair finally asks. Despite the almost disinterested drawl in his voice, you both know it’s a weak cover for the mischievous delight at the prospect of teasing desire in front of his field-weary brothers.

“Maybe,” you breathe, breath hitching as he rolls his thumb over your clit.

“So vulgar,” Crosshair chuckles, rolling his eyes when you blow him a kiss and fall back onto the tabletop.

But he’s already reaching for his discarded commlink and shuffling it back on. He secures the plastoid snug over his forearm, and when he shifts forward to steady himself as the locks snap into place, he shifts up and presses firm against the spot in your cunt that has you arching off the holotable with a low whine.

“Save it for them, yeah?” Crosshair chuckles, and he presses for Tech’s comm.

“Crosshair?” Tech mumbles groggily, apparently having just awoken to Crosshair’s impromptu call.

“So good of you to answer,” Crosshair drawls into his bracer. As much as you’d like to sit back up and swat his audible smirk off of his lips, the snark dies on your tongue when he shifts forward hard, the firm lines of his hips connecting firm against your ass as you sink your teeth into your arm to stifle your sob.

“Is everything alright?” Tech asks through a yawn. And you would laugh at his sleepy obliviousness if you weren’t quite literally seeing stars, blinding iridescent comet trails across your field of vision, when Crosshair slips his free arm under your waist, secures you tight, and pushes his cock impossibly deeper into you. All you can do is bite down over your uniform sleeve and wonder if your high whine reaches the comm feed.

“Fine, really,” Crosshair says with a breezy flippancy that you don’t currently have the mental capacity to find irritating. “Mind telling the others to pick up?”

“Maker, this better be for a good reason,” Echo’s frequency crackles to life, albeit somewhat sourly. Following his voice, you register a hearty yawn from Wrecker’s line, and not a moment later, Hunter’s light quietly blinks on.

“Is y/n on?” Tech asks.

“Mm, she is,” Crosshair punctuates his words with another sharp thrust that has your toes curling in your boots as your legs jerk over his arms. The saccharine tenderness of earlier gives way to the smug tone you have grown to (begrudgingly) adore. “Come on, say hello.”

“H-Hi,” you whimper into your comm, trembling as Crosshair digs his fingers over the soft skin of your thigh and slowly pulls out of your cunt, just until the ridge of his cock catches on your stretched lips. This time, when he thrusts forward there is no measured, careful deliberation—only raw and rapidly unraveling need as he sheathes himself inside you with one smooth motion and crushes up against that soft spot inside you that has you sobbing over your comm.

If they hadn’t heard your soft, muffled noises before, they certainly have, now.

The collective feed goes quiet.

“Holy shit.”

And then all at once, it’s a staticky blend of voices when the realization finally sinks in and exhaustion has all but been forgotten for the night.

You hear Wrecker groan just above Hunter’s gasping, flushed “oh,” and you’re fairly certain you catch Echo and Tech synchronize a low, drawn “fuuuck” as you sigh. But Crosshair gives you little space to register the sudden and raucous desire over the channel when he cants his hips forward and fucks into you deep.

This may have been your idea in the beginning, but whatever control you thought you had has long gone as you scrabble for purchase over the cold holotable top. The teasing game, dangling the possibility of having in front of the boys in the field, is now simply a show out of your hands as you moan into your comm.

“How does she feel?” Wrecker asks, his voice breathy and low.

“So fuckin’ wet,” Crosshair laughs, angling another sharp thrust against the spot that makes you see stars.

You grip tighter to the edge of the holotable with a choked moan. There’s something so indescribably rousing to hearing them speak over you as if you aren’t even there, rutting desperately back against Crosshair’s hips as you sigh and moan into the commlink clutched over your wildly beating heart.

“Our poor little cyar’ika went four whole days without being touched—she’s dripping. Tell them how much you needed this,” Crosshair croons, a mocking sharpness curling at the edges of the gentle tone of his voice. “Tell them how much you need them.”

You tremble under him as his hips meet yours hard enough to knock the air from your lungs, unable to do more than whine as you feel him snake his arm up your chest and curl his fingers around your neck.

“I—I need you!” you manage, your words only soft sighs pulled from what little breath Crosshair affords you through a steady, devastating pace. “Maker, I miss you so much—!”

Eyes squeezed shut, you fight the urge to quell every noise that claws at your throat. As obscene as it makes you sound, your boys are nowhere near as close as Crosshair, able to do little else but close their eyes and dream of you through the modulated channel frequency alone. It’s the least you can do, you think, and you moan as Crosshair shifts his hips up hard.

“He makin’ you feel good, cyar’ika?” Hunter’s voice crackles over the channel. “Pretty baby, you feelin’ good?”

“Mmhm!” you whimper, nodding wildly as if they’re not camped out a few hundred klicks from the ship, as if they’re there, bearing witness as Crosshair pulls you apart with every insistent, heady motion he makes.

“You’re a big girl,” Crosshair sneers, digging his fingers into the soft skin of your waist as he fucks into you sharp enough it punches the breath from your lungs. “Use your words.”

“So—” Your voice wavers over a gasp. “Feels so good!”

“Attagirl,” you hear Echo groan.

You can’t imagine how much of a mess you must look, jaw slack and eyes rolled back into your head, drunk on nothing short of hedonistic joy in its purest form, legs jerking over Crosshair’s arms when he fucks a particularly deep thrust into your cunt. Maybe you’ll try a call over the holo next time.

“Close,” you whimper.

But as soon as the words leave your tongue, you realize your mistake, panic flooding in your throat when Crosshair raises his brows, a wicked grin on his lips, and simply. Stops.

“Are you, now?” Crosshair chuckles, and if you weren’t there, dangling at that precarious precipice, so, so close to the kind of pleasure that wracks through your body so hard you forget your own name, you might have slung some acerbic jumble of words his way. But you are there, twisting your hips for any sort of purchase while Crosshair offers you a knowing smile.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, only to be cut short, your words swallowed by your wailing moan when Crosshair fucks into you, a shallow thrust that pushes you closer, closer to the aching pleasure just out of reach.

“Oh, that wasn’t nice, was it?” Crosshair taunts.

The boys murmur over the channel, all soft laughter while they imagine your flustered desperation, wishing it was them back on the ship, stuck to lookout duty, blessed with the cool air of the helm and your warm cunt fluttering around them.

“What do you say?” Crosshair laughs breathily into his comm, dragging one slow finger over your throbbing clit, firm enough that it sparks want through your chest but too light to do little more than tease. You sob under his touch. “Does our girl deserve to come?”

“Let’s ask her,” Echo rasps, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, your mouth waters at the hazy mental image of the eldest’s lidded gaze, his cock fisted heavy in his hand as he whispers into his comm. “You think you deserve it, cyare?”

“Please,” you gasp. It’s more than a simple response, rather, a plea for something, anything, that little bit of more to push you over the razor thin edge between teasing pleasure and release.

“Gotta answer the question, little one,” Wrecker chokes out past a straining chuckle.

“Maker, you know what I mean—!” you whie, shuddering at the jolt of pleasure that laces up your spine when Crosshair wraps his arm over your thigh and presses deeper than you thought possible.

“Answer it,” Tech breathes.

“Fuck—I deserve it!” you finally sob, and your thighs clench when you hear Hunter groan over the channel. “Maker, I deserve it!”

You’re not sure if it’s your own confession ringing in your ears or the sensation of Crosshair squeezing his hands over your waist that finally tips that delicate balance between your excruciating anticipation and release, stirring wild and devastating from low in your stomach as you arch off the holotable and scream. It crashes over you in an endlessly overwhelming wave, swallowing you whole in nothing but simple, luxuriant pleasure fizzling at your fingertips and blurring your vision with euphoric tears while Crosshair shudders, head hung low as you clench down around him.

“That’s it,” Wrecker croons. Somehow, you’re still able to catch his adoring praise over the frequency, your focus turned to the way Crosshair continues to coax your pleasure, drawing it long and desperate with what thin strands of composure remain.

A final, stuttering thrust, and Crosshair drapes himself over you, burying himself as deep as he can in your fluttering cunt and groaning softly as he fills you with warm, heavy spurts of come. All you can do is whine and pulse around him, losing yourself to the mercy of every passing sensation that sparks delirious pleasure up your spine.

“We’ll be back soon, sweet thing.”

You weakly turn your head to face the blinking comm light beside you, reduced to a blurry spot of red muddled by the lingering tears in your eyes. It’s a miracle you can hear Hunter’s voice over the dull buzz in your ears at all, but even through your exhaustion, his voice strikes want, warm and deep, through your core.

You mumble something unintelligible to your own ears in response, little more than a sign of life as Crosshair steps back and clicks off your comm.

“Quite the show,” Crosshair laughs softly, leaning close to curl his palm at your jaw and thumb at the tears beaded over your lashes. He presses his lips to your temple, and you bask under his touch. “Did such a good job, cyare.”

“When I can’t walk in two days,” you rasp through the dry itch in your throat from your (retrospectively) embarrassing show of being as loud as humanly possible over the comms. “I expect you all to take turns carrying me everywhere.”

Crosshair snorts, tapping the soft skin of your inner thigh to carefully drag his fingertips through the mess of come and slick smeared over your cunt. “Two days? It took them four to get out to the mark.”

And he’s right. The soft, fluvial wetland outside was far from conducive for fast travel, even with a clear mark and sharp navigation. But all things considered, you wouldn’t be surprised if the boys were packing up and leaving camp now, all for the chance to board and throw you onto the nearest bunk a few odd days faster.

“Four credits they’re leaving right now,” you laugh.

“Let’s make it four credits they’ll make it back in two,” Crosshair offers. He dips low and brushes his forehead close against yours, sharing soft laughter as you reach up to stroke over the back of his head.

They make it back in one.

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

im not very sure if you're doing abcs for the trio but if u do could u pls maybe do C N O and S for vlad? <3

No worries! I don't see why not, my knowledge is just a little more limited for them is all~

Hope you enjoy these, lovely! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Aight y’all it’s time for me to put on my clown shoes as god intended

Though man, what a delightfully rainy day today to write =v=

Fluff ABCs Template here

Cuddling -- How does he like to cuddle?

He is a simple man, with simple needs.

That being said, I think he’s one for a lot of gentle affection. Despite appearances–I mean hell, he literally wears a necklace of thorns–he’s actually a very tender lover. Loves hand-holding, scooting close under umbrellas, making shapes out of the little beauty marks that dot her skin. He will take any excuse to hold her and run with it.

Ideally, I think he prefers privacy above all else, most typically in his room in the castle. This side of him, so soft with his love for her, belongs to her and her alone. He refuses to let anyone else kill his immersion the moment (cue Charles dragging Faust away from doing something disruptive and stupid), or indulge in the sight of her so rosy-cheeked and loving. Loves dropping little kisses to the crown of her head, her shoulders, the backs of her hands. He’s waited so many long years to be able to hold her close like this, to feel the heat of her blush and the tinkle of sweet giggles when he nips and pecks at her pretty skin. All of this, every single second, is beyond value to him…he cherishes each memory close to his heart, crystallized fragments of joy in a life so bereft of it.

His favorite position for cuddling tends to be a kind of side lean. Usually she’ll be lying down (or turned towards him, sometimes) while he’s on his side beside her (usually against a wall or the back of a sofa). He loves that he can gaze at her as much as he likes this way, he really can’t get enough. The person he was searching for all this time, right here, no sign of leaving…

Nightmare -- What is his worst fear?

Oh boyo boy. Oh boy...

Honestly, I really don’t see anything horrifying him as much as losing MC. I don’t think he’s a man above fear. He hates being abandoned, he’s afraid of the world being torn apart by humanity’s indifference.

But nothing compares to the shattering fear of losing MC.

I think he has a very particular intense fear about losing loved ones because of the nature of his life history. He is still deeply affected by his entire clan being wiped out by hunters, leaving him alone to carry the weight of that legacy and loss. While he couldn’t help but give his heart to the woman who saved him, the reality of his terror is undeniable. After so many centuries of searching, after so many years of feeling hollow and alone…Even now, he has never come to terms with the way his family was ripped away from him. To know the gentleness of love again, to finally have a hand to hold only to lose it…

Well, I really can’t imagine the terrifying result of that. I imagine he would be far beyond reason.

Whenever he has bad dreams of the very same fear, he is nigh inconsolable. He holds her very tightly without saying a word (which is unlike him) and she'll know not to let him go for a while. She murmurs calming things, promises of things they'll do together in the future, strokes his hair and rubs his back. They only leave the bed when he's feeling somewhat stabilized again, but even so he'll hold her hand for longer than usual days after. Embraces her more, finds any excuse to hide away.

Oddity -- What is one quirk he has?

I think one part of him that is overlooked is that he is a man very interested in the nature of contradiction, the duality that resides in all things–himself included. Some parts of his preoccupation are more obvious than others. For instance, he loves flowers due to the nature of their ephemeral beauty, but also enjoys trying to preserve them to let their appeal survive. There’s also the fact that flowers can look or smell lovely, but can harbor poisons strong enough to kill grown human beings. (Not unlike him.)

He is a vampire in which the front-end of his operations is a cathedral, and I imagine that was a purposeful move as well. There are so many angles to consider here, namely two obvious ones that come to mind. There is the non-threatening concept of the cathedral: in which people assume it is a safe haven, a place to seek care/assistance/prayer (not entirely so in this case, even if Faust plays priest.) There’s the possibility that vampire hunters are typically supplied by/supported by the church (not sure if this is the case here, but it is a common trope). That would mean Vlad would be using the face of the very human institution that ruined his life to enact revenge, to say nothing of the potential risk of hunters seeking sanctuary only to run into a den of vampires.

There is also wondering whether or not he purposely wears that necklace of thorns ;;;;; (For anyone unaware, there was the whole Jesus wearing a crown of thorns specifically as an extension of humiliation, branding him the “fake king" of the Jewish people.) My contention here would be that he is basically saying “lmao, I’m your suffering saint now.” Or maybe he’s just really into masochistic jewelry, I have no idea.

He appears to have a kind of obsession with subverting norms/conventional expectations, and I have to wonder if it runs with his general underdog theme…

Secrets -- How open is he with her?

Despite his generally guarded nature, with MC he is entirely transparent when they’re in a relationship. Unless he doesn’t want to scare her or simply feels something would be best shared at a later time, he makes no real attempt to hide anything from her. If she asks and he knows the answer, he’ll spill.

(Okay but sometimes it gets hilarious, because say Faust has been trying for years to get info out of him about some stupidly specific thing. And Vlad is always very evasive, dances out of reach, plain ignores him. MC asks and he’s just like “oh yeah, in 1582 I remember–” It’s a wonder Faust never throws hands about it, pisses him off so much LMFAO)

Before their relationship was established he hesitated more, largely because the nature of his existence and his ties to her were a lot to take in at the time. I think he prefers not to overwhelm her whenever possible. It’s very much a kind of “I won’t info drop on you thoughtlessly, but if you ask me a question I’ll do my best to answer with the truth.”