slashersiren

[slashersiren]

Vincent Sinclair x Fem! Reader - Fluff🫶🏻

Living with Vincent

The loft you share with Vincent Sinclair feels like your own little world. A curious mix of candlelight shadows, the faint smell of melted wax, and quiet hums of strange machinery tucked into one corner. He is always working on his dark craft, the wax molds and figures piling up around the studio room like secret treasures. Vincent’s the kind of man who moves through the space with calm purpose, his strong hands covered sometimes in wax or soot, the faint flicker of candlelight catching his dark eyes. You, on the other hand? You’re content to watch from your little corner, curling up with a book on the couch or sipping your tea by the window. The world of wax and strange creations is his to command; you’re happy just living your own rhythm alongside his. Sometimes, you hear the soft clinks of tools, or Vincent’s brother whispering instructions as Vincent lights a fresh candle. You might peek in to catch a glimpse, Vincent’s focused eyes, the glow warming his skin, the slow drip of wax onto a delicate mold. When he catches you watching, you just smile softly and shake your head.

“I’m good here..”

You say, voice calm and sure. He nods, understanding. You always do your own thing. That’s why he loves you. Evenings are your favorite. Vincent might come to find you after he finishes for the day, that familiar waxy scent lingering on his clothes. He pulls you close, fingers trailing along your arm, soft and gentle. He is ready to escape the wax world for a while. You smile, resting your head on his chest. Sometimes you sit in the glow of candlelight, sipping wine, sharing stories. Sometimes you just hold hands. The world is quiet around you. Vincent’s respect for your space makes your love feel effortless, natural. There are days when the wax brothers work late, and the room fills with the thick scent of beeswax and melted candle. You’re alone but not lonely, the faint glow from the wax room is a reminder that your worlds, while separate, are woven together. And at night, when the loft finally goes quiet, Vincent’s hand finds yours in the dark, and you know you’re home.

[slashersiren]

Hi. I was thinking of asking you to write about Elder Yautja and a pregnant reader (hope that's ok, I couldn't find anything about whether you write about pregnancy or not...). They fly to Earth because she is madly wanting to "smell a hedgehog, no, this thing doesn't fit, I want a hedgehog from Earth" (or something like that, I'm not insisting, just so you get the idea). They meet the special forces/military, they classically try to kill them, and our favorite elder has hunted so many people in his long life that he's had enough of it (he's interested in hunting something scarier and spending time with his favorite wife-queen-life) and he just: *tired sigh* 😒

Here you go, I loved this idea so much, hope you’ll like the story too🫶🏻

Elder Yautja x Pregnant Human Reader

Cravings and carnage

He hunted monsters thrice as big as him. He torn spines from warlords. He survived galactic wars, assassination attempts, and the idiocy of youngbloods, yet none of that prepared him for you, barefoot on the deck of his ship, swollen with his child, waving a human fruit catalog at his face.

"I want watermelon,"

You declare, eyes narrowed, tone threatening.

“Not that tiny melon, not whatever that purple slop was yesterday. I want a real one. From Earth."

Your mate, towering, scarred, and very, very tired stares at you for a long moment. Then he makes a sound so deep and guttural it's probably a growl but could also be a sigh. Maybe a death wish.

"You said you want mango yesterday."

He rumbles.

"I changed my mind,"

You say sweetly, rubbing your belly. "Your child wants watermelon."

He pauses. That always works. You know it. He knows it. The baby is a card you shamelessly play.

“Fine…"

He grunts, pressing something on the console. You're getting your watermelon. The ship lowered into a clearing near a rural farming town. It was peaceful. Dark. Quiet. Ideal for a stealthy retrieval. But, of course, nothing ever goes smoothly when humans with guns are involved.

You stayed in the ship, mostly because he commanded you to, while your Elder stepped into the night, cloaked and nearly invisible, heading toward the nearest melon field with the calm patience of a warrior delivering a sacred offering. He had almost reached the field when the first helicopter appeared. Then two. Ground units followed, and soon the voices of human military echoed through the trees.

“Unidentified craft! Stand down!”

He sighed.

Literally.

A long, deep, guttural sigh.

When they fired the first warning shot, his mask deployed.

When they fired the second?

Heads rolled.

You nibbled on a protein bar in the ship, lazily lounging in the captain’s chair, occasionally glancing at the scanners. Blips disappeared one by one. The ship’s control beeped politely.

“Hostile forces neutralized.”

Moments later, the side ramp opened with a whoosh, and there he was. Covered in blood (none of it his) dragging a massive sack. He dropped it at your feet. Inside there were four perfect, massive watermelons. You squealed with delight.

“They smell so good!”

Your Elder just collapsed next to you on one of the padded benches, huffing out another long sigh, resting a blood-slicked hand on your belly.

“I am retiring.”

He rumbled.

“Sure, honey.”

You said, cracking open the first melon with his machete.

Later that night you were curled up beside him in bed, your belly against his side, fingers lazily tracing the long scar across his chest.

“You’re so good to me.”

You whispered.

His claws gently stroked your back. “You are my queen. It is an honor to slay armies for your satisfaction.”

You giggled. He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours.

“Next time,”

He growled softly.

“Warn me before you demand a fruit that requires diplomatic incidents.”

“No promises..”

You murmured, kissing the underside of his mandible.

[slashersiren]

May I request over messages?

Sure thing🫶🏻

[slashersiren]

Do you have a masterlist ?

You can see my favorites on my pinned post but heres a more detailed version 🫶🏻:

Michael Myers (Halloween)

Jason Voorhees (Friday the 13th)

Leatherface - Thomas Hewitt (Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Ghostface (Scream)

Charles Lee Ray and also Tiffany Valentine (Chucky)

Pinhead (Hellraiser)

Candyman

Asa Emory (The Collector)

The Other (Hell Fest)

Thomas J. Hanniger (My Bloody Valentine)

Jesse Cromeans (Laid to Rest)

Vincent and Bo Sinclair (House of Wax)

Yautja (Predator)

Pinhead (Hellraiser)

[slashersiren]

Hi hi!!! I was wondering if I can throw in my request? I made sure to not go aginst you're rules but if there was some rules I dident see then ignore this then and im sorry. I was hoping to reqest a reverse harem?

In this request, 3 elder Yautja males are mated for life with (Y/N) who is a human. One day, while they are walking through the forest to hunt, their human lover stops and freezes. They know humans are prey even on their world, so seeing their partner acting like very alarms them.

So, (Y/N) sees something, like a face pattern or maybe the uncanny valley since we have evolved to see that. How will our 3 elder boys act when (Y/N) suddenly stops, freezes and sees somthing they can't (Even if it is nearly impossible).

Sorry if this is a long request, ignore if it is to big. (Y/N) is female though, you can turn them male if you want to, I don't mind. Stay safe irl :)

Hi,

I actually liked this idea a lot, I hope you’ll like the story I made out of it as well!

Here you go, take care and stay safe🫶🏻

Three Elder Yautjas x Female reader

Unseen Danger

The forest was alive with the quiet hum of nature. Birds chirped distantly, the wind whispered through ancient trees, and the earth beneath their feet felt alive and sacred. Three massive figures moved through the dense greenery with the grace and power of predators born to hunt. Their armor was scarred, their presence undeniable Elder Yautjas, each one marked by countless battles, their dreadlocks dusted with silver and streaked with dark blood.

Ka’rath the oldest, Br’kan the second and Xul the youngest.

Between them walked their most treasured prize, not a trophy won through blood, but through bond. Among all their victories, she was the one they guarded most fiercely, a human, fragile by comparison but fierce beyond measure. She carried herself like a queen, her senses sharper than any human had a right to be, honed by years living with these legendary hunters. Her heart beat steady in her chest, her eyes wide and alert. But then she stopped.

Suddenly, she froze mid-step, breath hitching in her throat. The three elders halted immediately, their bodies tightening like coiled springs, eyes flicking to her with an urgency that turned the air thick with tension.

“She is not moving.”

Rumbled Ka’rath, his helm scanning her vital signs.

“She is afraid,”

Growled Br’kan, already unslinging his blade from his back.

“Heart rate high. Adrenaline spike.”

Xul, the quietest of them, stepped closest. He reached out a large, clawed hand to her shoulder but paused just before touching her. His voice, low and gravel-deep, spoke in Yautja.

“You are safe. Speak.”

But she didn’t move.

Her eyes were locked forward — wide, unblinking. Unseen to the others, nestled in the brush of trees ahead, something looked back. It didn’t breathe. It didn’t move. But her primal instincts screamed. The pattern on the tree bark was too symmetrical. The shadows too perfect. The face wasn’t right.

“I see it..”

She whispered. Xul’s mandibles clicked open in immediate warning. “Where?”

“There,”

She said, and her voice was not her own. Distant.

“It’s… looking.”

Br’kan moved to stand in front of her, shielding her with his massive body. Ka’rath dropped into a crouch, aiming his shoulder-mounted cannon into the thicket.

“There is nothing,”

He growled, frustrated.

“She sees what we do not,”

Xul said darkly.

“It may not be for our eyes.”

She flinched. A shiver traced her spine. Then it was gone. Her body slumped forward. Br’kan caught her before she hit the ground. His grip was firm, grounding her. Her breath steadied, the fear draining from her limbs like venom from a bite. But something still lingered in her chest. Xul touched her cheek gently, claws soft against her flushed skin.

“You saw the Unseen.”

“I don’t know what I saw,”

She admitted, voice small.

“But it saw me too.”

Ka’rath growled and activated a full scan of the area.

“No sound. No movement. Nothing physical… We will not allow you to walk in danger.”

“We are hunters,”

Br’kan said fiercely.

“But she is ours and we are her’s. We will hunt anything that dares to threaten her. Even if it is not flesh.”

They circled her as they resumed the path weapons drawn, senses on edge. The forest suddenly felt colder, the light dimmer, but with the three elders standing beside her, the impossible fear began to crumble into fierce determination, and whatever lingered in the dark?

It knew she was protected.

[slashersiren]

greta thunberg and 11 others on the flotilla carrying aid to gaza have been kidnapped by the israeli government in international waters.

[slashersiren]

Would you ever write hannible from series and show, mark Hoffman or Gabriel may?

Hannibal.. I haven’t heard that name in a while *lights cigarette*

It is my favorite tv show of all them time and I still wish for season 4💔

I’d absolutely try but I feel like maybe Im too small for it…

About the other characters, the first one I do not know that much, Saw was kind of a fever dream for me when I watched it so I don’t remember the characters, I shall watch the movies again.😭

The last one just straight up terrified me, Im so sorry but I couldn’t write a fic.🫶🏻

[slashersiren]

Did you ever wonder what is it like to be Asa Emory’s neighbour?

Here you go:

Asa Emory x Female Reader

Silk and Steel

You moved into the old townhouse a week ago. It was quiet, tucked between two ivy-choked buildings at the end of the block. The neighborhood was old money, the kind of place where people wore polite smiles but never waved. You liked that. You didn’t know your next-door neighbor. No one did. They said he was a recluse. A university entomologist, if you believed the whispers. Always quiet. Always alone. Always watching. You noticed him first on a rainy evening, through your kitchen window. A tall silhouette framed in the house next door, backlit by rows of glass terrariums, insect wings shimmering like stained glass. His face was hidden in the half-light, but his posture was straight, deliberate. There was something unnerving about it. He didn’t flinch when you noticed him. He simply raised his glass. You froze. Then… raised yours.

The next time you saw him, you were carrying groceries. A bag slipped from your arms and before you could curse, he was already there, crouched beside you like a shadow from nowhere. His voice was soft.

“You should let someone help you.”

You laughed nervously.

“Someone like you?”

He tilted his head slightly.

“Someone capable.”

It shouldn’t have thrilled you but it did. Over the next few weeks, he became… familiar. You didn’t even realize how often you saw him until one evening when you caught yourself lingering by the window on purpose. He was in his workshop again, examining a butterfly pinned beneath glass. He didn’t look at you. Not directly. Yet you could feel his awareness, like the cold tip of a scalpel brushing your spine.

“Do you like insects?”

He asked one day, his voice like silk soaked in ice water. You were standing at the fence line between your properties. You hadn’t noticed him step outside.

“I think they’re fascinating,”

You said honestly.

“Beautiful but also… unsettling.

“Good,”

He said, almost smiling.

“You understand them.”

“I try.”

You added a bit suprised. He studied you then. Not your face. All of you. It didn’t feel sexual. It felt like cataloging, like he was mapping your shape for something you didn’t quite understand. Weeks passed. You started dreaming of clicking sounds and dark corridors. Of glass walls and quiet breathing just behind you. You woke up sweating. Hungry. Cold. Sometimes you swore you heard things in your house, tiny metallic clinks. But when you checked the locks, they were still turned. Nothing was missing. Then one night, you found something on your porch. A glass case. Inside a dead moth. Wings spread delicately. Pinned. Preserved. You picked it up with shaking fingers. On the bottom, etched in faint ink, a Latin name:

Eubaphe mendica. You looked it up later. It meant: The Beggar. You didn’t sleep that night but you dreamed.

[slashersiren]

May I add you to my slasher writers list? And would you ever write for Vincent Sinclair or Charles lee ray?

Omg, yes of course, I’d be glad!🥹

I have one Vincent fic uploaded but I still have a lot in my notes 😮‍💨 about Charles (and this goes also for Vincent as well) if you have any ideas, I’d happily make them come to life.🫶🏻

[slashersiren]

Why do you censor the tags?

Honestly, I just use the tags Tumblr suggests, so sometimes they’re censored and sometimes they’re not. I don’t really choose to censor or not. 😭

[slashersiren]

“Omg, there’s a creature hunting us and killing everyone on sight…”

*Me already on the spaceship*

[slashersiren]

can your write smut with a fem reader and an elder yautja( you can pick the scenario )

Here you go 🫶🏻

Elder Yautja x Female Reader (NSFW)

The Hunt Finds You

Set deep in the jungle you were supposed to be alone but something far more primal found you first. The jungle was alive but for once, it wasn’t beautiful. It was hungry. You ran. Branches sliced your arms. Sweat dripped down your back. Something massive snarled behind you, a wild cat maybe, or worse. Your breath caught as you tripped, tumbling hard into the mud, gasping for air. You turned when a flash of light and roar of something inhuman cut through the clearing. A blur slammed into the beast chasing you. Growls turned into shrieks, then silence and there he stood. Eight feet tall. Drenched in blood, masked, broad, radiating raw danger. A creature.. but not just any, a hunter. He was older, scarred. His dreadlocks were silvered, his armor worn with glory, trophies decorating his belt like warnings. You froze as he turned towards you and his mask clicked open. You should’ve been afraid. Yet you weren’t. His eyes raked over you, scanning your flushed skin, the curve of your hip, your chest rising with shallow breaths. His low growl vibrated through the air but not threatening.. interested. You swallowed.

“You saved me.”

He stepped closer. His head tilted and then he reached for your face. Rough fingers brushed the mud from your cheek. You gasped as his claws grazed your bottom lip. Your hips shifted and a shiver ran through your spine. He noticed. Of course he did.

“You fear me,”

He growled as he leaned closer.

“But your body… begs.”

You let out a gasp as you turned your head. He growled again, a low, territorial sound. His hand gripped your waist, lifting you like you weighed nothing. You were pinned against a tree in seconds, your legs wrapped around his hips, his thick body pressing tight to yours.

“You saved me…”

You whispered again, voice shaking but not out of fear. His tusks scraped your cheeks as he took in your scent. One massive hand slipped under your knee, spreading your thighs wider. He growled low against your ear as his thick fingers found your heat and paused. You gasped, hips bucking involuntarily as one thick finger dissapeared in your pants, teasing your folds. His claws were retracted, careful, he was.. gentle. His hand was massive, and the pad of his middle finger pressed slowly through your slickness, circling your clit, then lower. He dipped one thick finger inside. Your breath hitched, and you felt your body arch toward him instinctively. The stretch was enough to make you moan and he loved that sound, it made him more interested. His other hand gripped your hip tighter, claws pressing possessively into your skin. A second finger joined the first, slow and thick, pushing into you knuckle-deep. You cried out softly, your walls stretching around him, slick and fluttering. He growled, almost reverent. He curled his fingers. Right there. Your head hit the tree behind you as the heat lit your nerves. He pressed hard against that spot again and again his fingers moving with a control that could only come from years of knowing exactly how to ruin something delicate. And you were delicate to him, breakable, human, but not weak. You clawed at his chest armor, hips grinding helplessly against his palm as his thumb circled your clit in slow, devastating motions. You sobbed out in pure pleasure, eyes wild and glassy, overwhelmed. His fingers pumped faster, harder now, slick sounds filling the air, your cries growing louder as pressure built fast in your core. Your climax hit like a snap, hips trembling, thighs clenching around his waist, your moan muffled against his chest. He didn’t stop. He didn’t let you go. He slowed, easing you through it, thumb still brushing your clit in lazy strokes. You blinked once, twice and when you realized you were laid onto the ground. His eyes drank you in. Your soft flesh slick and twitching, flushed and exposed beneath him. His cock, thick, ridged and long, glistened with precum, the tip already pulsing. He loomed over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping his cock. When he pressed it against your entrance, your breath caught. The stretch was immediate.

“So big—”

You gasped, hands gripping his arms. He pushed in slow, deliberate. Your walls clenched, fluttering in need. Every inch dragged with weight and heat, the ridges along his shaft stimulating you in ways no human ever had. You cried out, legs wrapping tight around his waist.

“You feel me?”

He hissed near your throat, you didn’t even have time to react as he bottomed you out in one powerful thrust.

“Deep… where no one else will ever reach.”

He growled as your back arched. You saw stars. His groan vibrated through your whole body as he stilled, letting you feel the full pressure of being filled, stretched, claimed, owned. He rolled his hips slowly, cock grinding against your sweet spot with deliberate, brutal precision. He snapped his hips. Once, twice, then again… faster. He pounded into you, your wetness loud and obscene, your body yielding to his every thrust. You clawed at his back, nails digging into scarred flesh. His tusks grazed your cheek, and then he purred.

“My prey,”

He growled, nuzzling against your neck.

“Made for me to breed.”

Your pussy clenched around him at the words. He purred again, savage and low. His hand slipped between your bodies, two thick fingers circling your clit again. You were already close again, needy and oversensitive. You shattered beneath him, spasming around his cock as you screamed out into the night. He roared, slamming into your heat deep and he came with a feral snarl, his heat filling you up. He didn’t pull out, not yet. He stayed there, buried deep, his forehead pressed to yours.

“You are mine and I… am yours.”

[slashersiren]

Breakfast served yall - Morning with Thomas Hewitt (NSFW!!!)

🩸

🩸

🩸

Sunlight & Sighs

The first thing you noticed was the weight. Heavy, warm, comforting like a massive safety blanket made of muscle and heat. Thomas was wrapped around you, chest pressed to your back, one massive arm locked around your middle like a restraint. Sunlight filtered in through the cracks of the worn-down curtains. Dust floated lazily in golden beams. You were tucked into the side of a man who could snap bones without effort, and yet his breath on your neck was soft but just as hot and possessive. You moved just slightly, your hips pressing back instinctively, just to tease. You felt him twitch, hard, thick, already pressed against your lower back. Bare skin to bare skin. He was already awake, waiting and you knew it. You arched a little more, letting your ass grind slowly against him. A sound left his throat. It was low, guttural, like a growl dragged from deep in his chest. He shifted behind you and you gasped as his hand slipped between your thighs, rough fingers testing your folds. You were already wet, ready for him.

“Tommy…”

You barely whispered it but he heard. He always did. Thomas didn’t speak much, he never needed to. The way his lips dragged along your shoulder, the way his hand gently cupped your heat like he owned it… that was his answer. He shifted again and you felt his cock press between your thighs, thick and hard, sliding along your slit with maddening slowness. You moaned and squirmed against him. His hand gripped your thigh, pushing your leg up, spreading you just a bit more. The first push of him inside you was slow, careful, stretching you open inch by inch. It felt so right. You bit your lip, body trembling at how full he made you feel. He kissed your neck, nuzzled his face into the crook of it, his warm tongue dragging over your pulse point. Every thrust was slow, steady, deep. You felt worshipped. He grunted behind you, hips moving in slow, yet greedy rolls, filling you so deep that you felt it in your stomach. One big hand grabbed your breast, squeezing and and massaging with a gentleness that didn’t match the sheer power of him, while the other slid down to rub slow, steady circles over your clit. You were already close.

“Don’t stop—”

That’s all you could manage to say between moans and whines. His breath got ragged and his movements got faster, deeper. His name tumbled from your lips in broken screams as your orgasm hit.. rushed through your whole body. Your walls clenched tight around him and he groaned, low and needy. He managed a few more thrusts before he came with a deep growl, hips pressed flush, warmth flooding inside you. He stayed there, still holding you, still inside. You felt his heartbeat against your back, his breath slowing, his lips ghosting over your shoulder as if to say mine.

In that moment, you didn’t want to be anywhere else.

[slashersiren]

Can I get a yautja that's bad blood with a fem!reader who just wants to straight up kill him(revenge), but he just gets turned on every time she manages to pin him down.

I don't care if you make it nsfw or not. I just want that yautja to bully reader.

Here you go 🥰

Bad Blood Yautja x Fem reader

Hunt Me Harder

She was there to kill him. The Bad Blood had torn through her crew like a tornado. Left nothing but blood, wreckage and the sound of that sick little clicking laugh echoing through her head. He didn’t hunt for honor, he hunted for fun. And she? She was his new obsession. Unfortunately for him, she hit back. Hard. The night was thick, jungle wrapping her in humidity and tension. Her breathing was steady, trained. She crouched on the edge of the ridge, waiting. Watching. She felt he was close, she knew.

Then she heard it… click… click-click... she spun but too slow. The creature was already behind her. A massive hand slammed into her ribs, sending the her flying. She crashed through a tree trunk, rolled, and came up with her blade drawn.

“Still chasing me, little hunter?”

His voice was low, rasped, more growl than speech. His mask was off. Glowing yellow eyes bore into hers, fanged mandibles twitched into something close to a smirk. She lunged and feinted left, slammed her knee into his chest, caught him off guard and pinned him with one hand around his thick throat, blade pressed to his side.

“Not so tough now, are you?”

She scoffed. He didn’t fight back. He laughed low and dark, chest vibrating under her palm. He pushed up, and just like that, she was flipped, blade flying from her hand, her back hitting the dirt with a soft thud, as he straddled her in one smooth motion. His voice was right next to her ear now, deep and rumbling like thunder in her spine, letting out a low purr. His claws slid to her jawline, threatening. She slapped him across the face, hard. He blinked and grinned, looking back at her.

“Harder next time.”

She hated how good he looked above her. How wild his breath was. How hot his blood had felt on her hands. She hated that he wasn’t killing her. He was playing.

The woman snarled, wriggled and twisted up into another reversal, legs locked around his waist as she rolled him back and landed again on top. The Bad Blood’s hands stayed at his sides. He didn’t fight. He offered. She felt the low buzz of excitement in his chest again. Even when beaten.. especially when beaten he wanted her closer. She looked down at him. Massive. Deadly. Bloodied. Soaked in sins. She wasnt even sure if she could walk away this time.

[slashersiren]

Hey yall I wanted to make a post since I’ve got a few asks, so lets start:

What slashers and monsters I write fics for usually:

Michael Myers (i like my men silent)

Ghostface (Danny Johnson🫶🏻)

Vincent and Bo Sinclair (😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨)

Asa Emory (MY BELOVED)

Thomas Hewitt (🥵)

The Other - Hell Fest (he is so underrated💔)

Pinhead (song: Rihanna S&M)

YAUTJA 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 (especially Elder)

They are my favorites but it doesn’t mean I don’t write for others, I saw a tons of movies so feel free to ask really.

I can write fluff, smut, spicy, kinky and all that BUT I won’t write: non-con and age-play (I’ll call the police) + I WON’T write monsters that cannot consent!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m currently unemployed so my answers will be quick which is good for yall and me as well since I can spend my days doing what I love (lmao🫶🏻).

If anyone would be interested I could make love letters from slasher/monsters to you👑.

When I write my fics, I use she/her but if you’d like different pronouns just ask and I shall deliver.

That’d be all I was thinking of❣️

[slashersiren]

I loved your take on yautja x superpowered human. It gave me more idea of an ask 😅 (if you don’t mind 🥹). So I was thinking after their clashes again and again, the predator and the superhuman actually fall for each other. And in near future, they do end up having their own pups. When it comes to appearances, they take after their yautja dad, but end up inheriting their mother’s superpowers. So now you have got literal naturally genetically superpowered new yautja type. How would his clan react to this union? Would they be sceptical about this union or would they actually see it as a win win situation?

Here you go🫶🏻

Yautja x Superpowered Reader

Bloodlines (I swear I didnt copy the new Final Destination movie lmaooooo)

The ship cracked through the planet’s atmosphere like a war cry. Inside, cloaked in shadow and silver light, stood the warrior they once knew.. undefeated, unrelenting but he was no longer alone. She stood beside him, radiant as the stars he crossed to reach her, eyes sharp with power, body wrapped in armor of her own design. She didn’t need it, of course. Her skin was tougher than metal and her heart.. was far harder to win than any hunt he’d ever completed. Yet here she was, his mate. Not because he conquered her. Because he couldn’t.. and because she didn’t want to live without him either. Their story wasn’t one the Elders would sing in praise. It began in blood. In combat. The first time they clashed, she knocked him unconscious in seconds. He woke up humiliated and enthralled. She laughed at him. Called him “trophy boy.” Let him live. He came back. Again and again. Until it wasn’t about the hunt anymore. It was about her.

Now, years later, they returned with children. Three of them. Small, spined things with Yautja skin and dreadlocks but glowing eyes, floating footsteps, and power that rippled through the ship like a low, endless hum. They were still young, but their strength was undeniable. One had ripped the cargo door off mid-tantrum. The other could speak six languages by age two, including Yautja war-code and ancient Earth dialects. And the third? The third had already tracked a prey without a single tool, using only instinct. Her instinct. And his precision. They were… evolution. However evolution didn’t always mean acceptance, not for the elders.

At the Clan’s Gathering Hall he walked into the circle with pride. She followed silent, letting her presence speak louder than her words. And the children? They padded forward, unafraid, their strange energy rattling the sensors of half the warriors nearby. The murmurs were instant.

“Soft-blood.”

The High Elder approached slowly, eyes locked on the hunter.

“You’re a rule-breaker. You bring an outsider. A female who bested you in combat.. and worse, you call her mate.”

He growled, low and deep.

“She raised warriors stronger than your bloodlines can even comprehend.”

The woman stepped forward, voice amused yet cold and calculated.

“You want to reject power because it’s not pure? Then stay weak. I don’t need your approval.” 

The room shifted. What was once offense… now looked like salvation.

A new bloodline. Stronger. Smarter. Emotionally unbreakable and physically superior. Half predator, half celestial. The Elder turned, facing the circle.

“Will they fight for us?”

The mother’s smile was wicked.

“Only if they choose to. They’re not weapons.”

Her mate placed a hand on her lower back.

“They’ll fight for what they protect. And what they love. Like their mother.”

He growled.

Later That Night on the highest rooftop of the clan tower, she sat with him, watching the city pulse below.

“Still think I’m a soft-blood?”

She teased. He clicked low, pulling her into his lap. They looked out towards the horizon, where three tiny shapes raced each other glowing, cloaking, crashing into trees. He watched with pride. She watched with love. Together, they waited for the universe to realize what they created: Not just a family. A future.

[slashersiren]

So I have this idea on a what if situation, where the yautja goes to earth for his usual hunt only to come face to face with a superpower human. I imagined that she’s got powers like Omni Man (The OP version of superman from invincible) but she’s kinda lenient in the fight against the predator because she is literally way too strong to go down. For ex: The predator pounces on her only for her to bitch slap him and KO him in 10 seconds flat. She spares his life cause she ain’t really about killing for no reason.

After that situation, what will be the the predator‘s reaction? Will he come back for rematch or will he try to court her because she tossed him around like he was a rag doll?

(P.S. I somehow feel male predators love it when they get rekt by the females in their species) 😅

I hope you like it, I had a great time working on it, yall lucky I’m an unemployed final boss🤣❣️

Yautja x Superpowered Reader

Enemies to …?😮‍💨

Trophy Hunt

The city was dark. Too quiet for midnight but he could feel her.

The Yautja clicked low in his throat, perched on the edge of a rooftop, cloaked and scanning. Her energy signature pulsed like a star. It was impossible to miss, impossible to predict. He’d come to Earth for blood.

He didn’t expect to get embarrassed.

The last time they met, she bitch-slapped him through a building. He blacked out for five minutes. Woke up humiliated and… interested?

He didn’t understand her.

She was barely armored, yet more dangerous than half the war-beasts he faced and worst of all, she smirked when she spared him.

Predators didn’t get spared.

He’d told himself this was a rematch. A hunt. A second chance at dominance.

He wanted more than victory.

He wanted to meet her again.

Yet she found him first.

“You still creeping around rooftops, big guy?”

Her voice drifted through the air, smug and amused.

The Yautja de-cloaked. She stood just a few feet away, her aura shimmered with raw power like lightning waiting for a reason.

He stepped forward, chest heaving.“Came… to fight.”

“Sure you did,” she teased.

It wasn’t a fight. It was foreplay.

He lunged, she caught his arm mid-air and twisted.

He kicked, she caught his leg and spun him like a fidget toy.

She didn’t even break a sweat.

“Try harder, trophy boy.”

She slammed him to the ground. His body cracked the concrete. He growled in frustration, not pain.

She stood over him, hands on hips.

“I was hoping you’d be better this time.”

He shot up grabbed her by the waist and tackled her through a wall.

Finally, a hit!

They crashed into an empty warehouse. She landed on her feet. He stalked closer.

“You almost had me, big boy.”

He roared. She laughed. They clashed again, fists, claws, bursts of power.

Sparks flew. Beams broke. He bled. She licked his blood off her lip. She looked at him like she knew him.. like she wasn’t impressed, just curious. A queen eyeing a challenger, or maybe a toy.

“You always bleed this easy?” she asked, walking in a slow circle around him.

“I’m starting to think that armor’s just for decoration.”

He straightened, jaw clenched, mandibles twitching.

“Next time, you bleed.”

She tilted her head, amused.

“Next time?” Her eyes glinted.

“You planning to keep bumping into me?”

He didn’t answer.. couldn’t. His translator glitched on the edge of emotion he didn’t know how to name.

She moved closer, watching him just as carefully.

“Why’d you come back?” she asked softly, voice barely above the wind in the broken windows. “Really..”

Predators didn’t explain themselves. They stalked. They fought. They conquered.

But here? Now?

“…You are different,” he admitted.

“Strong. Not afraid.”

A smile tugged at her lips. Not mocking, just real.

“You make that sound like a compliment.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was thick. Heavy. The kind that settled between two creatures who both survived too much to trust easily but couldn’t stay away.

Her voice dropped lower.

“You came to kill me, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

She didn’t move.

She didn’t run.

She didn’t strike.

Instead, she let him close the distance between them.. then she leaned in, just slightly and whispered:

“That makes two of us.”

Then she vanished. In a flash of movement too fast for the eye, she took off through the broken wall, gone in a blink.

He stood there for a long time, knowing deep in his bones, that the hunt wasn’t over.

It was just the beginning.