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huntersrequiem-if · 1 month ago

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I do not know if anyone has asked this but it's my favorite toxic scenario so don't judge me.

If the ROs and MC are out and someone tries hitting on MC while an RO is away from them... how do the ROs react?

Can we pretttttty please do crushing stage vs relationship stage. 😫

I'm already dying while imagining reading Astaroth's... i have a problem 😭🤣

Hiii! Sorry, it took so long, was a bit busy. Also don't worry I'm not gonna judge, after all, it's pretty fun to explore this side of the characters.

Warning: It's pretty long so it goes under the cut.

(Also I imagined it as some sort of party)

Crush:

Nope, nope. Astaroth is seething inside. How dare this worm bother the Hunter with useless drivel? And why, oh why isn't the Hunter leaving, could they like it? No, no, he shall hear no reason like duty and politeness or silly things like that.

While there is little he can do about it - unless he wants to get into an ugly fight - Astaroth does what he knows best, talk. He picks apart everything about that worm, from the way they speak and look, the clothes they wear, the way they carry themself.

Poor Hunter will have to leave to spare themself a headache.

And if Hunter don't? Well, fine, they forced his hand. He's willing to go into a fight over this.

Regardless of how it happens, Astaroth is right as rain the moment Hunter leaves the worm in the dust. Back to jokes – fine, he’ll even grovel a bit, or more until they stop cursing him out.

Just this once.

Relationship:

Here he is more assured, confident. Because Hunter is his and nothing can take that away. So, who cares if some poor thing makes a fool out of themself trying to flirt with someone as radiant as the Hunter? Ha!

He would watch this - with his head resting on the Hunter's shoulder arms wrapped around their waist. Draped lazily over their back, he enjoys the show. An amused smirk plays on his lips as his eyes follow the bumbling fool. It widens when they stumble over their words.

Astaroth wants to cheer the idiot – “Go on, make a bigger fool out of yourself, amuse us!” – but he doesn’t, just nitpicks the attempts to himself. Frankly, he heard better flirting.

He'll be quiet, only speaking when the idiot finally scampers away.

"Hm, I almost feel sorry." Lips brush the Hunter’s neck, a brief kiss against their warmth. “Almost.”

Crush:

Moon would freeze, not knowing what do to. Well, she does know but she isn’t that idiotic. She wants to slide near the Hunter and intertwine their fingers together. And Hunter placing a kiss on her knuckles while she sends the beau a smug look.

No, that’s downright idiotic. Moon has a duty, an obligation. She should be by her husband's side, be his darling wife. She shots a glance at the man by her side, see his gaze snap back to her. She flashes him a quick, meaningless smile, her eyes already back on the Hunter.

Movement from the little beau and Hunter, the person raising a hand to touch them. She bites her lips, wrapping her wings around herself. Oh, but would you look at that? Another person bumped into the beau before their hand touched Hunter.

Those two seem stricken by each other, you can just see the hearts floating around each other. They walk off like two loverbirds.

How adorable! How fortunate the little beau had found their mate! Isn’t Moon such a caring goddess?

The self-satisfied smile on her face withers when her eyes meet Hunter’s, quirked eyebrow and unreadable expression on their face. Moon flushes, feathers ruffled. Turning to her husband she places her arm delicately on the crook of his elbow, trying to focus on him, his lips, his words.

Relationship:

Moon sweeps between them with fluttering feathers and a trailing dress. Her tinkling laugh steals the beau’s attention and her smile is like the sun. Warm, radiant. She enchants the person until they’re so enamored with her they forget Hunter is even there.

But she doesn’t. Moon’s eyes are always on them, flashing them a smile meant for them. Soft, adoring. Brushes of her knuckles against the back of their hand, featherlight and gone in a flash. It burns her and she wants nothing more than just leave this party.

Somehow, she manages to make the beau leave. With a wink, she turns to the Hunter and discreetly tugs at their wrist. Once they are in a secluded and shadowed corner away from prying eyes, she presses herself against them, lips seeking theirs in a heated kiss. Her hands search purchase on their clothes, trailing.

“Hello, love. Missed me?” Her words are faint against their lips.

Crush:

They would watch – glare, if you were to ask anyone else, over the rim of their cup, sipping slowly. They’re being silly, Night knows that. Hunter is their own person – this is just a childish crush, it will pass. But why does their heart do a painful squeeze when Hunter reciprocates?

Why do they wish that smile was for them?

They glance away, lips pursed in a thin line. Sneaking a glance back, they run a hand through their hair. How… pathetic they are, pinning for someone who doesn’t even know they care.

Ridiculous. They’ll leave – not because of this little scene, no, no! – but because the Underworld is busy. Night can hardly leave it unattended for a silly party.

Yes, that’s exactly why. Downing the last of the wine, they’re gone before anyone else notices.

Relationship:

A hum leaves their throat, watching the spectacle unfold. Night is not amused, more like curious. How will this happen, will the person take rejection gracefully? Some do, some don’t. A shame, to embarrass oneself for this.

Their steps bring them closer to the Hunter. They have a questioning look in their eyes – is this alright? Do you need help?

The Hunter shakes their head and Night’s shoulders drop slightly. Still, they give their hand a quick squeeze, a touch of heavy wings on their back gone just as soon. A flash of a warm smile accompanied by a nod and they leave. The Hunter can take care of themselves – but Night would keep an eye from the corner of the room.

When the Hunter returns to their side, Night smiles softly at them, leaning their shoulder against them. They start talking in soft, hushed voices.

Crush:

The other partygoers give them a pitying glance.

They have been standing in the same spot for quite a time, hovering uselessly around a certain conversation.

Poor thing.

Some have tried to engage this lone figure.

Santana flashes their current conversation partner – a woman with auburn hair and pretty green eyes – a fleeting smile and they try. To be aware, present and listen. Yet their answers are short and quiet with a gaze more often than not on Hunter.

Peering at this person, Santana knows it’s silly – they don’t know all people after all. But maybe they know this one or heard of them. Tall and bearing a proud figure, Santana’s mind blanks. They can’t put a name on the face.

It was to be expected, but it did nothing to quell the disappointment in them. With a huff, they can’t help but be curious, who is this person to have the courage to flirt with a god so brazenly?

Another bigger part is annoyed by how easily they capture Hunter's attention with so much confidence in each gesture.

Santana frowns, trying to ignore the incessant tugging in their heart, like a thin thread wrapped around Hunter's fingers.

A small nudge against their shoulder brings them back to reality with a startle. Santana blinks wide eyes at the woman, cheeks flushed. Her eyes sparkle with mirth.

How rude of them!

Before they can release a torrent of apologies, she cuts in with a jerk of her head. "Your partner?"

They follow her gaze and their cheeks flush harder, mortified. "No!" Their voice is a little too loud, too high-pitched.

Curious eyes glance their way and Santana gulps, shoulders rising to their burning ears. Especially when they feel the Hunter's gaze, hot and scorching on their skin.

Why can't the earth open up and swallow them?

The woman snorts and takes another sip of her wine. "No offense, friend, but you're a terrible liar."

A small pause. "None taken." They rub a hand at the back of their throat, unsure. "But nothing is going between us."

“Sure, friend.” Santana frowns, not liking her sarcastic words. She lifts a shoulder, swirling the wine in her glass. “There won’t be anything else if you keep watching.”

They watch her, the veil of melancholy that feel on her face. It saddens them. “I’m sorry.”

She blinks at them, for a moment looking taken back. A quick bark of amusement slips past her lips, shaking her head. “There is nothing to be sorry about friend. We just made our choices.” A fleeting pat on their shoulder and the woman leaves, blending in the crowd.

Santana blinks at the spot she was. Ah well, there goes their excuse to linger around. With one look at Hunter, Santana bites their lips, hard.

Taking a deep breath, their feet bring them closer. Hunter turns their head slightly and Santana smiles, eyes on them. Trying to stop their hand from trembling, they place it on the crook of Hunter’s arm.

“Hello. I’m Santana.”

Relationship:

Santana would pause, fingers wrapping tighter around the cups they are carrying. Of course, they left their side and someone already swooped in. A furtive glance at the person reveals a stranger.

Another glance to Hunter and they don’t seem interested. Good.

A frown worms it way on their face - how to approach this? What version of them did the Hunter like more?

With a shake of their head, Santana sighs and resumes their way. Smiling warmly at Hunter, they give them a cup. Now with their hand freed, they slide it across Hunter's back, resting on their hips.

Taking a sip of their drink, Santana watches the stranger over the rim of their cup. "Hello. I'm Santana." A small nod, eyes inquisitive. "And who might you be?"

Crush:

??? would hover so close, just behind Hunter's shoulder, staring at the other speaker. The other person would shift before finally leaving.

With them gone, ??? would turn to Hunter and ask in a small, quiet voice. "Is this something you to often? Bedding mortals?" There is no reproach in their voice, mere curiosity.

"Are... are you offering?" The answer is befuddled, lacking any kind of heat.

They would tilt their head, mapping the Hunter's features with their eyes.

"No."

Still, they don't leave, sticking to Hunter like a quiet shadow.

Relationship:

A simple look is enough to tell them everything they need to know. ??? would wrap their fingers around Hunter's wrist and drag them away from the stranger.

They would search a quiet spot, potentially the garden before slidding down and resting their head on Hunter's shoulder.

#i'm so sorry T-T #it took so long...#turned into a novel!#owl hooting #hunter's requiem if #interactive fiction #hr: moon #birds chirping #hr: astaroth #hr: night #hr: santana #hr: ???

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