#borderlands drabbles

[doom-dreaming]

The twins having a little show like the hunger games with troy hunting down sacrifices and prisoners. This usually lasts maybe a day, he plays with them but loses himself to the bloodlust of the hunt. Your hunt is different though, troy had hunted everyone down with the day but he couldn't find you. It took him hours to track you down, you had managed to hide your scent pretty well. As soon as you see him you bolt but not away from him, at him [1\2]

(cont'd)

You dive between his legs and dash off thru the false forest. Your small and use it to your advantage. It takes two and a half more days of tracking and chasing before he catches you. Your exhausted when he corners you. He looks feral, wild and hungry. Though it's not your flesh he's hungry for now, you got his blood pumping from the chase. After all you were sacrificed to him, to his hunger only it's a different kind of hunger. Not to say he wont still take a bite Tyreen watching it all.

**********

First of all: YESSSSSSSSSSS SEND IN THESE OFFERINGS SO THAT I MAY FEED AND GROW STRONGER and eventually write something again

Second: When he finally catches up with you, there's a familiar gleam in his eyes, bright as ever, unaffected by fatigue. It's not exactly friendly, but at this point you're too exhausted to keep running, so you resign yourself to accept whatever fate he has planned for you. You don't flinch as he drops to a crouch just inches from where you're sitting. By now, you know his scent; the heady musk of dust and sweat and faded cologne and the barest edge of acrid electricity. You're sure the nuances would be lost on anyone outside the Flock, but you'd been there long enough. You know.

"Game over," he purrs. He barely sounds winded. Tyreen must have been juicing him up more than usual for this. "You put on a good show, the fam loved it." He nods upward, undoubtedly indicating the hover-cam that'd been tracking you since this started. You don't look to confirm, it's old news at this point.

"What, no sass? Damn, I really wore ya out, huh?" He tousles your hair, leaning in close enough to ensure that his next words are only for you. "C'mon, I'm not done yet." He pauses to search your expression. You're too tired to give anything away, but something stirs in your gut. Exhaustion be damned, what happened after the hunt was always your favorite part.

But you can't let anyone besides the twins and the rest of the Flock know that - the rest of the COV wants conflict and opposition. So you put up just the right amount of fight as Troy, with a predatory grin, drags you out of the hunting ground by your ankle.

[doom-dreaming]

Tyreen x shy!s/o?

You get a mini fic and you get a mini fic! Everybody gets a mini fic!

*****

"C'mon baby..." Her voice is so gooey sweet that for a minute you forget what she's asking you to do. "You'll be fiiiine... It's only a sentence. Besides," her dark lips tilt into a smirk and she crosses her arms. "You're announcing me. And you love me."

She's...got a point, you have to admit. But on camera? For all ten billion of their followers to see? You shift your weight. "Tyreen, I don't--"

"Think about this." She throws her arms open wide as if to hug you. But she doesn't. "You're mine. We're in a relationship. D'you know how many of our stupid followers would kill to be in your place? All of them. Baby..." Her arms drop to her sides as she sighs. "Just do it...for me?"

You know it's coming and you know you won't be able to say no and-- There it is.

She pouts. "Please...?"

Your resolve crumbles. How are you supposed to resist those sad blue eyes? "Okay..."

"Yes!" This time she does hug you, very briefly. It tingles. "You're the best, babe! Lemme go get Troy's cam-bot and we'll do a couple test runs..." Her voice fades out as she hurries in the direction of her brother's room, leaving you wondering why the hell you just agreed to this.

You sigh. Only a sentence. How bad could it be?

......

Seeing your face on screen is still embarrassing, still makes you blush, but she was right. It wasn't that bad.

She sweeps into the room, grinning. "See! I knew you could do it!" She leaves a quick peck on your cheek. "You sounded awesome! You're gonna give Mouthpiece a run for his money!"

The compliment makes your blush flare hotter, but you can't help the giddy swell of satisfaction that blooms in your chest in response to her praise.

[doom-dreaming]

I saw the fic where the reader tells the twins that the entire camp left and went one way and troy plays along and fucking slips a tracker in their jacket. Just the pure feeling of "you've done fucked up" when the twins follow them back to their group.

You should have known. You should have known! It was their whole game - they made themselves look stupid and inane. They made people underestimate them. And you'd fallen for the entire act. They'd played you. And now they're here. Again.

You swear under your breath when your rifle clicks. "Need more ammo!" Half of your words are drowned by the explosion that rattles the mesa behind you. The resulting haze of red dust obscures your line of sight on the twins. They're still a quarter-mile out, but they're blazing through the front lines with frightening vigor. You don't know many of the camp members personally, you keep to yourself, stay with family, close friends. Still, the massacre is hard to watch.

Bodies turn to stone under Tyreen's fingertips, unnatural crystals jutting from their eye sockets and open mouths. Her tattoos are glowing white-hot and she's laughing.

Troy takes care of the rest, sweeping his sword through two, three, four people at a time, almost lazily, a satisfied smirk on his lips. They turn into crimson mist and scattered limbs. His white coat is stained with blood, but you don't know if it's his or...everyone else's.

"Ammo incoming!" The shout is followed by the familiar, and welcome, clink of an ammo box landing in the sand next to you. You reload as quickly as possible, but your next look down your scope cements your fears.

They're winning. They're only a few thousand yards out now, backed by a seemingly-endless onslaught of cultists. You pick off a few of the larger ones, but your aim keeps locking on the twins. Troy. Tyreen. Troy. Tyreen. It's a gamble, you know they're both dangerous... Precious seconds tick by as you weigh your options. Hordes of shrieking cultists swarm past the first set of barricades. You hear shots from your left. From your right. Shouting, screaming...

You aim right between Troy's deep-set blue eyes and squeeze the trigger.

Crack!

Darkness.

**********

Your head is throbbing, your ears are ringing. But all the gunfire, all the explosions, all the yelling...it's silent. Everything comes back gradually. Sand crunching under boots, murmured conversation, bright light on the other side of your eyelids. You blink, squinting against the afternoon sun.

You're on your knees, your hands are- You struggle in a split-second of panic as your body races to process what your brain already knows. Your hands are bound behind you, you're gagged. You force yourself to breathe.

"Y'know, I gotta hand it to ya." Troy drawls from somewhere out of sight. "You're smart. Not as smart as us, but, well..." Suddenly, he's in front of you, dropping to a crouch, lips pulled back into a wicked grin. "We're tough to beat." He ruffles your hair and stands, yanking you roughly to your feet with him. "Take a look around! We redecorated the place for ya! Thinkin' about callin' it...I'unno...hey Ty! How's 'Calypso Chic' sound?"

"Sounds stupid."

Troy chuckles. "Yeeaaah...she's just jealous she didn't think of it first. Too bad you don't get to stay, though! Real bummer. But! We got somethin' super special waitin' for ya." His grip on your shoulder is painfully tight as he steers you in the direction of their convoy.

You try not to look at the crumbling husks that litter the ground around you. Still, even in your peripheral vision, you see arms outstretched, crystalline mouths gaping in silent screams. Some are cowering. Some are...you swallow back the bile in your throat. Some are small, clinging tightly to hands and the now-solid folds of clothes. Entire families are fused together into morbid statues, memorializing their last seconds. You tear your eyes away and focus on your feet.

"D'you get 'em all, Ty?"

She falls into stride beside you. "Yeah, think so. Been a while since I've eaten that good." She sounds satisfied. Sated. It only makes you feel sicker. "Kinda wanna take a nap now."

"Don't forget to share," Troy mutters.

"Yeah, yeah..." She waves him off as they split around the front of their war technical.

You stumble when Troy gives you a shove toward the open door. A burly cultist covered in tattoos reaches down to grab your arm.

"Careful with that one," Troy warns. "They're gonna need to be, ah...presentable later."

Fear grips your gut as you're hauled into the vehicle, but you can't exactly ask anyone for an explanation. You're not sure you'd want to know, but the anticipation of the unknown is worse.

Troy is right on your heels, pulling the door shut behind him. "Don't worry, pet," he croons as he slides in next to you. He tilts your chin up with his left hand. "You'll learn to love us, just like all the others. Welcome to the family."

[doom-dreaming]

Ok but like the first night with the twins after the ceremony would be like heaven💜 rough yet soft passionate and warm ighhhhhh give it to meeeeee!

You're standing at the edge of this enormous bed, running your fingertips over the lace and chain details on your new collar. You're wearing a thin robe that you know will end up on the floor. The twins are reclined against the headboard, sipping wine, watching you, smiling. It seems like their lips can't form any shape other than a smirk, but this is softer.

Tyreen swirls her wine glass. Troy sets his aside, picks up the bottle, pours a glass for you. "Only if you want it."

"If not, give it to me," Tyreen chirps, cheeks already visibly rosy, even in the dim light.

Their gentle laughter puts you at ease. You sit down, settling into the plush blankets. You're not sure why you're so nervous; this bed is familiar now, you'd spent almost a month's worth of nights cradled in its warm, silky sheets, learning to trust the two living gods in front of you.

Troy offers you the newly-poured glass of wine. It's dark and strong, you can smell it from the other side of the bed. "So what's it gonna be, pet? Remember the deal? Tonight, we worship you."

You remembered. The other pets had told you it would be the best night of your life. They'd laughed and joked and reminisced and shared a few too many personal details, but even then, as you stood new and nervous in the commons, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, it had sounded like heaven.

You meet Troy's eyes, then Tyreen's. She nods and shrugs, conceding to her brother and tipping back the rest of her wine. Your gaze returns to Troy. You swallow your heartbeat. Point at the glass in his hand. "Bring me that."

[doom-dreaming]

Twins rolling up to a bandit camp only to find everyone deserted it to avoid getting murked by the COV, expect for one person who greated the twins like they were the new neighbors or some shit. Also goes " they went north btw, left last night."

You couldn't say you were happy to see them...but out here, survival was survival. And you had a plan. Their vehicle was more of a tank than a technical, outfitted with heavy armoring, thick glass windows, intricate graffiti, and so many guns. Plus, it was huge, jacked up on its axles, so much that it towered over the convoy of smaller rigs that flanked it.

Figures, you think. Ostentatious assholes. You stow your rifle against your back and hop down from your sniper's perch. Your plan would work. Or they'd shoot you on sight, but you were hoping for the former. By the time you make it to the gate of the camp, the entourage has slowed to a trundle. You watch, doing your best to put on an air of passive curiosity, as they roll to a halt. One of the cultists in the front-most rig throws a hand signal over his shoulder.

The doors of the Calypsos' technical swing open simultaneously and the twins themselves jump to the ground, sending up dervishes of sand. You wonder if they'd rehearsed that.

"Hey! You!" Troy motions toward you as he shouts. "Fuck is this? Some kinda ambush?"

If it was, you'd be walkin' right into it, dumbass. "The others left!" you shout over the sound of idling engines, more a roar than a rumble. "Skipped out a couple nights ago!"

Troy scoffs, a cruel smile on his lips. "Yeah, well...they can't run forever."

Tyreen steps into stride beside him. They look formidable. Moreso than their broadcasts make them out to be. The wind sweeping across the dunes whips their coats around their hips and ruffles their hair. They look...powerful.

"So why'd you stay?" Tyreen quips as they close the distance. Her eyes, clear, bright blue, and filled with cold intelligence, appraise you. "You wanna join the family?"

You shake your head. "You let me live, I tell you where they went."

"Aw, who said we were gonna kill ya?" Troy is directly in front of you now, his smile even harsher than before, revealing sharpened white teeth, interspersed with glints of gold. "Then again, who's to say we won't do it anyway? Helluva gamble."

You shrug. "Don't have much to lose." You keep your expression neutral, your voice casual.

Troy sighs. It's a melodramatic and - frankly? - irritating thing. "Dunno, Ty... Whaddaya think? I mean we could just keep truckin' and find 'em eventually..." His eyes slide to you, the same calculating, icy blue as his sister's. "They might be sendin' us on a wild rakk chase..."

"North," you confess without waiting for Tyreen's input. "They went north. Said somethin' about a cave system."

The twins are silent for a moment, watching you too closely for your comfort, not that you'd let them know that. Then Troy licks his lips. Laughs. Slaps your shoulder. "Get outta here. You're not worth the trouble. We'll check up on your intel."

A faint shift of expression crosses Tyreen's face, it's vague, but it looks like...confusion? Troy reacts so subtly it would have been easy to miss...but, well...you'd had siblings. "Have a nice life out here in Satan's asshole!" he barks, steering Tyreen back toward the technical. "Coulda joined the fam, remember that!"

You try not to roll your eyes as they climb back into the massive rig. Idiots. It takes a minute for the roar of their engines to fully fade into the noise of the wind, but once it does, you grab your pack and leave the camp behind, heading southeast. "Hook, line, and sinker," you mutter to yourself, triumphant.

The tracker on your back, nestled in the folds of your jacket, blinks.

[doom-dreaming]

The COV rolling in to the bandit camp your in, the leader did something to piss off the twins. Unlike the others you dont fight, you hide for most of the fight and when it's over you try to slip away but they catch you. Troy snatches you with his metal hand and tyreen coos at you while a camera films it all. You tremble, waiting for them to kill you like the others but instead troy scoops you up and tyreen exclaims your too cute to kill. You become the newest pet.

Funny thing: a lot of the pets in the Flock have this backstory. It's very popular.

Plus, a lot of us have specialized trade skills that make us useful to the twins.

***

"I'unno, Ty, I kinda like this one." Troy's metal hand is surprisingly warm against your jaw as he turns your head from one side to the other. Appraising. "Cute, yeah?"

Tyreen cocks her hips. Crosses her arms. "Don't you have enough toys?"

"We're gods. We can have as many fuckin' toys as we want." He hauls you to your feet. You try to keep your mouth shut. "And I want this one!"

His sister rolls her eyes, but it's accompanied by a hint of a smirk. "Fine... Load 'em into the technical, I guess."

"Don't act like you don't want 'em," Troy drawls, bundling you into the huge rig their raiding party had arrived in. You keep your eyes straight ahead, but you can still see the bodies of your fallen clan members in your peripheral vision. The air smells like blood. "Your snack bar just got a new flavor, too."

[doom-dreaming]

Warmth

@bettersafethandicks knock knock open up i’m at your house~ enjoy it

Cold. That’s the first sensation you’re able to focus on. Just empty, hollow cold all throughout your body. It doesn’t feel like it’s a part of you, it feels distant, like you have ice packs pressed against your skin. On the inside you just feel numb. You shiver, instinctively attempting to curl up. Your movements seem unusually slow.

The next thing you feel is warmth on your neck. It’s only barely there, but it’s so intense, such a stark contrast in temperature that you try to jerk away. Only when the warmth moves to your arm do you realize that it’s someone’s hand.

“Shh...”

It all rushes back with his voice. You turn your head, trying to see through your swimming, watery vision. Blue eyes, every bit as cold as your body feels, stare back at you.

“Easy,” he murmurs. You catch a hint of sharp, bloodstained teeth. “I’ve gotcha. Shh...”

Hesitantly, you settle down, letting him pull you against his body. Your sore, frigid muscles practically melt as you slump against his chest.

“There you go, just like that.”

You’ve never heard his voice so tender, at least not that you can remember. His hand strokes through your hair once, twice.... You’re almost asleep by the time you feel his fingers slide down your neck to rest against your pulse. After a minute, he hums, sounding pleased. You burrow closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“You know you’re all mine, huh?” His fingers rub your shoulder in a lazy massage. “You need me.”

Only half-lucid, you nod, pressing as much of your aching body against him as possible. He’s so warm, you feel safe.... You drift to sleep, lulled by the satisfied rumble in his chest.

“All mine.”

****** Tag List: @corpseyb0nes @afterthedreamer @mischiefsilvertongue @marigold-magpie @tricerathotss @vanderlinde-exe @ayilachan

[doom-dreaming]

Snack

The first time he takes a picture, you don't think anything of it. The twins had...acquired...you during the last offering ceremony and you're honestly just happy you're not dead. A collar and leash is tame, compared to the things you know they're capable of. You figure he's just happy to have you, which is...oddly flattering.

The camera flashes, catching you off-guard, but you give him a shy smile and he grins back, waving away your attention. "Just ignore me, sweetie." The nickname sounds endearing on his lips.

So you do.

But that night, you discover the truth of your new living conditions. The sedative in his bite does little to numb the pain as he tears into your flesh, gulping down skin and muscle and blood. Tyreen holds you down, stroking your hair, whispering comfort, knitting you back together.

You pass out sore and scared.

The next time he takes a picture, you're covered in blood. It's not your own - you'd gone with him for a joyride and managed to turn an entire den of skags into paste under the tires - but you still see the spark in his eyes; you saw it the first time he... You still somehow manage a weak smile.

He leans over, pushing his lips against your pulse. "You look good like this, honey." The nickname sounds more like an ominous promise. You fight back a shudder as he licks the blood from your jawline.

The next time, you've figured out the pattern. You're lying bruised and nearly broken in the wake of a raid gone bad, but the twins are just as healthy as ever. Energized. Tyreen's fingers dance over your injuries, stitching them closed.

Troy stops her. "Let me get a pic first," he mutters.

You don't smile into the flash this time.

Troy doesn't seem to care. "You look delicious..."

It sounds downright threatening.