#also i plan on putting the glow in the dark stars on that wall

[rybkart]

My boys!!!!!!!

Also the second picture is how I found them in the morning. Idk what happened but it made me think about the fall.

[asclexe]

they’re staring at me 😥

[uhohwhathaveidone]

hii I honestly really love your works and i really wanna read my imagination on a fanfic. So what if the reader just sleeps on sebastians bed, like they just returned after a long adventure then they had to research some of the stuff they found yada yada then the reader (fem if possible) just lays on his bed for a break but ends up sleeping there, next day she walks around hogwarts with sebastians smell and everyone just assumed they did the :)))) mc being flustered mess and tries to deny every accusations but sebastian just stands there smirking watching everything unfold.

dont ask why mc didn't shower (for story purposes pls)

Your wish is my command!

Not Helping (S.S)

I'm glad you enjoy! I might be posting the next fic a little late tomorrow, just so we know! Also, I put the reader into Slytherin, so she didn't have to sneak in, and also because Imelda needed a reason to embarrass the reader. Remember when Ominis spoke about having a toad? He's in here, like a little alarm clock <3 He's also tired of Sebastian, like always. Spot the fourth wall break too, here's a hint, it's not someone speaking, technically. I made a joke at myself lmao. Anyway, enjoy <3 (i listened to H.I.M the whole time i was writing)

      You waved your hand, gesturing Sebastian to follow you as you crouched behind a table. He quickly tiptoed over to you, handing you the book he had snatched from one of the library’s shelves, smiling as you put it into your bag. You looked around as you searched for the door, motioning Sebastian to follow you as you hid behind a shelf. “So far, so good.” Sebastian whispered, smiling. You smiled back as you shook your head. “Don’t jinx it!” He shrugged as he continued to follow you through the maze of tables and shelves of books, checking behind him every now and then to make sure no one spotted the two of you from behind. You stopped, holding your arm out as Sebastian hit it, stopping as you pressed a finger to your lips. He nodded as he ducked lower, following your finger as you pointed to Peeves. The poltergeist floated down a row of shelves across from you, humming to himself. You waited until he had moved somewhere else, tugging on Sebastian’s sleeve as you began your escape again.

      You breathed a sigh of relief as you quietly closed the door behind you, letting a yawn escape you. Sebastian smiled behind you, checking down the hall to see if there was anyone around. “Seems like we’re in the clear, let’s head back to the common room.” He whispered, walking down the hall. You nodded as you followed, reaching into your bag to take a look at the book you had taken. “What are your plans for this one?” You asked, studying the cover. It was about advanced potions, far more advanced than what you were studying now. He shrugged as he slowed down, walking beside you as he looked at the book in your hands. “Might be something of use in there, I didn’t exactly read it before snatching it, you know.” You shook your head as you placed the book back into your bag, yawning again as you turned down to another hall, the Slytherin common room at its end. “What time is it?” You asked, peeking out a window that you walked past. The stars hung in the dark sky, their bright glow unable to light the ground below them as the moon had disappeared, leaving the grounds of the castle invisible. Sebastian shrugged. “I didn’t take a look at the clock either, if that’s what you were hoping for.” You yawned again, watching Sebastian smile at you from the corner of your eye.

      “Let’s not have late-night heists in the future, yeah?” You said, walking into the common room. Sebastian scoffed as he followed behind you, stretching his arms. “It can’t be that late. Perhaps you should get more sleep.” You shook your head as you walked over to the clock. “I would, if you stopped dragging me along to do Merlin knows.” You squinted at the clock, the room was dark, only a single fire in a hearth emitting light. You sighed as you brought your wand out, casting Lumos as you went back to studying the clock. “Sebastian!” You hissed, narrowing your eyes at him as he raised his hands in defense. “It’s past midnight! We have class in the morning, as we had Ominis promise to wait for us so he could find out what was in the book!” Sebastian walked over, grabbing your shoulder as he inspected the clock himself. “That can’t be right, we didn’t spend that much time there, did we?” You shook your head, sighing as you moved to make your way to Ominis’ and Sebastian’s dorm. “It doesn’t matter anymore, let’s brief Ominis and get to bed.” “Yes Ma’am.”

      Ominis let out a frustrated sigh as the two of you walked into the room, arms crossed as he sat on his bed. “Took you two long enough, I figured you had gotten caught with how long you were gone.” He said, turning to the door. “Apologies, Ominis. Sebastian couldn’t figure out which book to pick.” You said, dropping your bag as you flopped onto Sebastian’s bed. Sebastian scoffed, reaching into your bag and pulling out the potions book, sitting down next to you as he flipped through the pages. “If you hadn’t been so scared of being caught, we would have been out earlier.” You shook your head as you rubbed your eyes. “Whatever you say, Sallow.”  Ominis let out another frustrated sigh as he threw a pillow, missing Sebastian as it hit you in the face. “Ominis! What was that for?” You said, picking up the pillow as you frowned. Ominis let a small smile grace his lips as he bowed his head slightly. “My apologies, I meant to hit Sebastian.” Sebastian, who had been quietly chuckling, quickly dropped his smile. “Hey! What did I do?” Ominis shrugged, accepting the pillow back from you as you walked back to Sebastian’s bed. “Just read something from the book, I want to go to bed soon.” You nodded in agreement, moving to the head of the bed and hiding under the covers as Sebastian flipped through the pages.

      “It says here, one of the most effective anti-venoms is the Draught of Living Death Antidote. This potion is particularly useful in countering the effects of the Draught of Living Death, a powerful sleeping potion that can render a person unconscious for days or even weeks.” Sebastian read, skimming down the page. You huffed in amusement, closing your eyes as you pulled the covers closer. “I could use one of those.” “The antidote or the potion itself?” “Both.” Ominis chuckled as he shook his head, hearing the slightly groggy tone in your voice as you tried to hide another yawn. Sebastian sighed, flipping through the pages. “Polyjuice potion, Wolfsbane, we’re not Werewolves, so we don’t need that.” You sighed as he continued to talk, shutting your eyes as the warm blankets beckoned you to sleep. “Ah, here’s one.” Sebastian said, reading from another page. “The Draught of Peace, a powerful calming potion that can ease anxiety and stress.” Ominis sighed, laying his head against his pillow. “Could use that during O.W.Ls, if you needed it.” Sebastian nodded, reading further. “Except there’s a problem.” “What’s that?” “The potion requires a careful balance of ingredients, including powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, and a measure of powdered unicorn horn. What even is a hellebore?” Ominis shrugged, covering his mouth as a yawn escaped him. “Y/n, would you be able to ask Poppy what that is?” Sebastian asked, turning to you.

      Soft snores escaped you as you laid in the bed, asleep. Sebastian frowned as he moved to look at your face, scrunching his nose in confusion. “How can you be asleep during this? This is good information!” You still didn’t respond, instead turning over in your sleep as you tried to get comfortable. “Ominis, she’s asleep! I haven’t even gotten far in the book yet.” Sebastian complained, watching Ominis as he too slipped under the covers. “I’m glad one of us is asleep. Perhaps we should pick this up later?” Sebastian scoffed, frowning as Ominis turned away from him. Sighing, he put the book back into your bag and looked over to you, unsure what to do. He couldn’t just kick you out of his bed and send you off to your own; not when you were already asleep. He bit the inside of his cheek as he furrowed his brows, slowly reaching his hand out to shake you awake.

      You glared at him through heavy eyes, sniffling as you tried to bury your face into the blankets. Sebastian smiled softly as he leaned over to whisper to you. “I won’t make you leave, but could you perhaps move over? This is still my bed, you know.” You stared at him, pondering his request. You shivered slightly as you shrugged, scooting over for Sebastian as he slipped under the covers. You closed your eyes again as you shivered, biting the inside of your cheeks as you quickly moved closer to Sebastian, burying your face into his shoulder as you tried to get warm. “You can’t be that cold.” He whispered, smirking at you. You huffed in response, beginning to move away from him before he rolled over, wrapping his arms around you. “Don’t need you freezing.” You hummed quietly, nuzzling your face into his chest as you fell back asleep; warm and comfortable.

      Sebastian slowly opened his eyes as sunlight poured through a window, yawning as he tried to blink away the sleep from his eyes. The room was quiet, save for the small snores escaping you and Ominis. Sebastian burrowed his face into your hair, finding you turned over with your back against him. He looked over at a nearby clock, squinting as he tried to read the time. You had about an hour until classes started. He pulled you closer as he stretched, squeezing you in an attempt to wake you. You groaned as you straightened your arms, a small yawn escaping you as you tried to go back to sleep. “It’s time to get up, we have classes soon.” He whispered, poking you in the cheek with his free hand. You shook your head, another yawn leaving you. “Not right now, perhaps a few more minutes.” You sighed, rolling over and burying your face into Sebastian again, hiding away from the light. Sebastian shook his head, looking over to where Ominis slept, light snores emerging from the bundle of blankets. “Fine, since we’re all still in bed, a few more minutes.” He sighed, closing his eyes as he tightened his arms around you.

      Ominis shook Sebastian awake as he tried to fix his tie, waking both of you up as he shouted. “Get up! I can’t believe you, keeping us up so late and not even having the courtesy to wake us up on time!” You sniffled, sitting up as you rubbed your eyes. “Ominis? What time is it?” Ominis sighed as he reached for his bag. “Late! We’d be lucky if we made it to class!” You looked over at the clock, quickly jumping out of bed and searching for your shoes and bag. Sebastian sat there, confused. “How do you know what time it is?” Ominis glared in his direction, scoffing. “In case you hadn’t noticed, my toad likes to have his own schedule. He’s been croaking for food for maybe ten minutes, and I always feed him right before we leave.” You smiled as you hopped around, trying to get your other shoe on. “I don’t have time for anything! No shower, no breakfast! Sebastian! Get up!” You shouted, almost falling over. He nodded quickly, slipping out of bed, and looking around. “I slept in my robes? I suppose I don’t have to worry about that then.” He said to himself, shrugging as he went for his shoes. You quickly slipped your bag over your shoulder, tapping your foot as you and Ominis waited at the door. “I’m coming, hold on!” Sebastian sighed, rubbing his eyes as he picked up his own bag, walking over to you.

      You quickly walked down the halls as you made your way to charms, following Ominis as he muttered to himself about Sebastian and his need to do things at such late hours. He quickly slipped into the classroom ahead, and you looked over to Sebastian as he yawned again. “Wait!” You whispered, grabbing his sleeve as you pulled him away from the door. “Can’t it wait? We’re right there.” He sighed, watching as you set your bag down. “Your tie! It’s a mess!” You said, quickly fixing it as you bit the inside of your cheek. Sebastian stiffened up, eyes wide as he watched you smooth out his robes and tie before nodding and pulling him into the classroom. You quickly took your seat next to Natty, smiling as she greeted you. Professor Ronen appeared just moments later, signaling the start of class.

      You sighed as you rested your head in your palm, holding back a yawn as you ate. Sebastian sat beside you, picking at his food as he glanced over at you, smirking as you shivered. “Getting a cold?” He asked, causing you to furrow your brows as you looked over at him. “Beg your pardon?” He chuckled as he poked your side. “You were awfully cuddly last night, shivering and all that. I’m not a doctor, but if you got me sick, I would make sure you suffered with me.” You shook your head, grabbing your drink and taking a sip. “So that’s where you were last night!” A voice sounded behind you, causing you to choke on your drink in surprise. Coughing, you turned around, frowning. “Imelda? What are you talking about?” Imelda looked between you and Sebastian, smirking. “When you passed by on your way to one of your classes, you smelled an awful lot like your friend here.” She said, gesturing to Sebastian. “Sebastian here has a distinct smell, like some sort of potion that he bathes in. Stinks up the whole common room, he does.” Sebastian frowned as he turned to Imelda. “I do not stink! I just naturally smell this nice.” Imelda shook her head, turning to you as she poked you in the chest. “You smell just like him, you know. Didn’t smell like that yesterday.” You felt your cheeks heat up as you glanced around, your fellow housemates nodding in agreement with Imelda. “I still don’t understand, Imelda.” You said, shaking your head as you looked up at her. Imelda held her smile as she leaned closer to you. “You didn’t come back to the dorm last night; your bed was still empty this morning.” You heated up more as your eyes widened. You hadn’t thought about what Imelda and your other dormmates would think if you didn’t show up in your bed, and now it was coming back to bite you.

      “What are you implying, then?” You asked, narrowing your eyes. Imelda shrugged nonchalantly, smirking down at you as she gestured to Sebastian. “What else is there to imply? Such a scandalous girl, you are. You’re not good at hiding it either.” Your eyes widened as your breath got caught in your chest, cheeks turning a bright red. “Imelda! That’s absolutely not what happened!” You shouted, shaking your head frantically. “Oh yeah? Then what else could it be? Because people don’t just smell like other people for no reason you know. Nor do they cuddle at night.” You stuttered as you tried to explain, looking over at Sebastian as he smirked into his drink. “We did not- why would you even suggest that? I only fell asleep while hanging out! It was nothing like that!” You smacked Sebastian’s shoulder, motioning for him to explain. He only shrugged, smirking. “You snore a lot, you know.” “That’s not helping, Sebastian!” Imelda smirked as you continued to stutter, crossing her arms as she nodded toward Sebastian. “Someone’s not denying it, so what’s your next excuse?” You frowned at Imelda, heart racing as you tried to clear up the misunderstanding. “Ominis was there! He was hanging out with us!” You said, pointing over to Ominis.

      Ominis nodded as he chewed his food. “She’s right. We were looking at a book, Sebastian decided that he wanted to stay up late. She fell asleep first.” Imelda quirked an eyebrow, smirking at you. “Couldn’t do it with your friend around? Sorry Ominis, but there’s no other explanation. Perhaps you were fast asleep?” Ominis scoffed as he shook his head. “As if. Sebastian fell asleep before I did. You think something like that would happen right next to me? I’d hex both of them.” You nodded your head as you shared an awkward smile. “See? Nothing happened! Mind out of the gutter, Imelda!” She shook her head as she patted your shoulder. She leaned down and whispered into your ear, poking your side. “You’ll need a better excuse next time. I expect you back tonight to tell us all about it.” She walked away, leaving you with your mouth open as you tried to comprehend what had just happened.

      “Sebastian! Look what you’ve done!” You whispered, swatting at his shoulder as he went for another bite of his lunch. He shrugged as he looked over at you. “I didn’t do anything.” “Exactly!” Ominis shook his head as he took a sip of his drink. “I mean it, you two.” Sebastian frowned, furrowing his eyebrows as he turned to Ominis. “Mean what, exactly?” “That I’ll hex you both if you tried something like that near me. My toad could use some friends.” “That’s not going to happen, Ominis!” “Not yet.” “Shut! Up! Sebastian!”

[theoperativeif]

Ari (The Operative short story)

Here is the finish short story! I actually wrote the whole thing with the pronouns switched between Ari and 002, I needed to go back and correct it to make it fit the poll results. But I am so happy to have it finished! Feel free to let me know your thoughts on it.

Enjoy! <3 you all!

(Content warning, all warnings in The Operative demo apply to this as well!)

The specks of far-off stars dotted the viewport, an ethereal canvas of black and purple that seemed to stretch into infinity. No artist, however skilled, could have crafted such a perfect tableau.

"Admiral, the Emperor’s Herald is calling,” First Officer Gallo announced, his large frame eclipsing a swath of console lights. “Should I put it through?”

A hesitant glance swept across Admiral Anderson's crew—faces caught in a blend of darkness and eerie console glow. Custom dictated that a Herald's message be broadcast to the entire ship. But not this time.

“No, this is a private assembly,” Elia instructed, straightening her uniform as a screen unfurled before her, obscuring the cosmic tapestry.

The Imperial Anthem, a bombastic melody woven into the very fiber of her being, filled the ship. As it faded, metal walls isolated Elia from her crew. For a moment, she stood in encompassing darkness before finding herself surrounded by a grand chamber of marble stairs. Virtual figures of obscured Admirals and Generals stood beside her in this ritualistic gathering known as the Emperor's embrace—an event Elia usually avoided.

Slowly, she looked up to the throne above her, where a shadowy figure reclined. A second figure descended the stairs, coming into full view.

“Generals, Admirals, Leaders of the Empire," a voice boomed, blending martial roughness with Capitol sophistication. "The Emperor’s chosen voice, his Herald of guidance, will now address you.”

The Herald appeared—a lithe silhouette veiled in holographic stars and galaxies. As Elia locked eyes with two bright stars, a shiver crawled up her spine. Her own reflection in those stars was a haunting revelation, one that weighed heavily on her conscience.

"Elia," the Herald whispered with unsettling familiarity, "child, what do you wish to ask of the Emperor?”

“Only to thank him for his leadership and blessings,” Elia replied in a rehearsed tone, hearing echoed affirmations from her obscured colleagues.

“The Emperor is displeased with Vanern. They dishonor the very souls they owe him. Examples must be made,” the Herald intoned.

“We need to withdraw from the planet,” General Parcer interjected, his voice breaking the uneasy silence.

Elia winced. The General's defiance made her uncomfortable, yet also resonated with her own suppressed reservations. The general was an imposing figure, with a thinly trimmed mustache and long blue cloak behind him. 

“The Emperor commands you to hold the planet,” the Herald cautioned.

Several other Admirals voiced their concerns, echoing that of Parcer.

 

“What of you, Admiral Anderson?” The Herald's virtual fingers grazed Elia's cheek, adding an unsettling intimacy to the long look they gave her, “Is there not one soul brave enough to stay?”

General Parcer stepped back, a look of hurt pride on his face as he shook his head. Elia sensed the moment's significance—a junction of personal ambition and collective destiny. Her eyes met the Herald’s stars again, but now they shimmered with resolve.

"The Chemical Core and my Operatives can hold the line. If we win the skies, they can win on the ground. General, do you have the stomach for it?" she challenged.

Parcer hesitated, his eyes darting between the Herald and Elia, before exhaling a defeated sigh. "I pray you're right," he said, his voice tinged with resignation.

“The only power that matters is the Emperor’s,” the Herald declared, turning back to Elia with a nod. “Proceed with your plans.”

Five Months Later

The evening winds screamed over the southern plains just outside the city of Mulhat, like vengeful spirits mourning their losses. Once a site for thousands to enjoy the celestial lights, the plains were now a desolate tableau, inhabited only by the dead—or those resigned to join them soon. Six medium Imperial tanks rumbled down the roads, weaving through abandoned vehicles, shallow graves, and the occasional forsaken pet. Flanking and leading them were the remnants of the 7th, their rifles swinging from point to point as if desperate to find a target.

More than a third of them had unmarked armor, but it was caked with the mud of a long march. They were green. Ari frowned at the sight, his eyes narrowing beneath his helmet.

Perched atop the second tank, Ari wiped the dried blood off his helmet with swift, forceful strokes. Around him, no one spoke. What could they say? By some fluke, another day had passed without casualties. Yet an uneasy air hung thick, as if death had merely postponed its visit.

The lead tank juddered to a stop, and the rest of the column followed in an ordered sequence. Ari rolled off the side of his tank and landed softly on the mud-caked earth, eyes scanning as platoons fanned out in every direction.

From an armored carrier at the rear, Captain Carrington surveyed a map. Tall and bespectacled, his impeccable uniform seemed out of place next to his subordinates, whose attire bore the scars of ongoing conflict. Ari had felt uneasy when he took over the 7th two weeks ago; he was too young, his uniform too clean. The original officers had fallen during the first week of operations, leaving NCOs to improvise.

Carrington finally closed his map and approached Ari, a polished smile contrasting sharply with his mud-splattered armor. "Ahead is a town suspected of harboring a small Commonwealth presence," he said, never quite meeting his eyes. "Command wants it cleared and any arms seized from its citizens."

Ari's eyes flicked to the map Carrington was still clutching. 

He continued, "I want you to clear it for us. You leave immediately."

Ari stared at him, his gut tightening before he consciously willed himself to relax. This is what he was engineered for.

"Lieutenant Hammond of the Third Platoon interjected, stepping forward. "Sir, Ari's already cleared four towns this week. Maybe we can—"

Carrington cut him off with a glare, his plastic smile returning. "Nonsense. I have the utmost faith in Operative 005."

Ari winced. Hammond had no reason to draw the ire of their greenhorn commander. He gave him a nod of appreciation. His thoughts retreated to his past, to his "mother's" incessant instruction and the tales from 002 about honorable warriors. Tales that now seemed like childish fantasies. He was a soldier. He would obey.

The town that awaited Ari was a mere ten miles up the road—a modest industrial outpost framed by skeletal factories on either side. Once bustling centers of production, they were now hollowed-out relics, victims of the relentless artillery that rained from above.

Ari peered through his rifle scope, his eyes hardened behind the dark visor. The forest that once provided cover had been reduced to smoldering embers and blackened stumps, leaving an unforgiving mile of barren terrain between the town's outskirts and the nearest semblance of shelter.

He had challenged Captain Carrington on his tactics. "How do you expect me to approach the town without cover?" The Captain's response had been a disconcerting smile and a vague assurance: "I'm confident you'll manage."

Suppressing a sigh, Ari activated his suit's cloaking device. A shimmering ripple enveloped his armor, harmonizing with the charred landscape behind him. As he advanced, his suit's sensors fed him real-time data: the air was thick with smoke, but mercifully free of chemical or biological threats. "Good," he thought, recalling a nightmarish scenario where an entire town's air filtration had failed, asphyxiating its inhabitants. He could have easily been one of those children, had fate dealt him a different hand.

His thoughts wandered, as they often did, to questions of origin. Had he come from a lush, verdant world? Or maybe a frozen wasteland? He smiled beneath his visor, imagining a little 002 thriving in a harsh, unforgiving environment. He had always ensured he would too. He was a warrior Ari could only dream of matching.

But not now. Not when 002 was at the frontlines, and he was stuck under the command of an inexperienced captain, showcased like a trophy weapon. He had obeyed his orders dutifully, wading through skirmishes while he observed from a safe distance, his eyes twinkling in unsettling fascination.

He was an instrument of war, and the Captain was merely using him as intended. Yet, a nagging sensation of being wasted gnawed at him. He imagined his "Mother" laughing at him inner turmoil—a cruel, mirthless laugh that echoed in his mind.

Just as he reached the fringes of the town, his steps faltered. A shallow ditch caught his eye. Inside lay five bodies—two women and three men, faces down, their skulls shattered by bullets.

Death had been quick at least.

Grimacing, Ari skirted past the ditch and crept along the side of a nearby building. Its facade bore signs of conflict, scarred by bullets that may have been fired from makeshift firearms.

Taking cover behind some empty supply crates near the corner of the building Ari turned off the cloaking field, letting it recharge for a few minutes in silence. 

The wind blew, howling for a moment before settling into silence without any response. 

Then Ari heard it. A boot stepping on metal with a fairly heavy thump. Too heavy, Ari thought, slowly raising his rifle and pointing it against the wall of the building. Turning his cloak back on he let his armor scan the building. Noting the fuzziness of the screen he waited. 

Some fireteams would carry a scrambler with them to black out a building from an outside fireteams sensors. It was effective except for one issue. A blacked out building also revealed their location.

Ari guessed there must be  at least five inside, if there was more then a fire team others would most likely join in after the fight had started.

 

Ari waited until he heard the last bootstep, then pulled the trigger. With a loud bang his rifle fired easily through the wall, a loud metal ping sounded as he discharged the large casing as she rolled to the side. 

A hail of bullets fired through the walls of the shelter. He could imagine each path as time slowed before he let off two more well placed shots.

In a matter of four seconds it was silent. 

Breathing heavily Ari waited. Satisfied at the lack of noise Ari moved around, peeking out towards the road running in front of the building. If there were more soldiers here they were doing a good job of not revealing themselves. If they were there Ari didn’t intend to give them the satisfaction of spotting him. 

Placing two breach charges on the wall Ari circled around towards the back door. Keying the keypad he opened it, carefully monitoring his sensors. 

Room by room he swept, noting the three bodies, large holes blown threw their personal armor, blood coating the metal fragments. Commonwealth Soldiers, he noted from the insignia’s on their shoulders. Bending down he lightly pushed one, noting the armor had been fused together in a custom repair job.

Interesting. he thought, wondering if the Commonwealth was as low on supplies as their Imperial foes were. 

He heard the faintest scuff of a boot on flooring. 

Diving to the side he barely missed the sword that embedded itself in the floor, it was large with an ornate looking handle. A tall soldier with a curved armored helmet pulled it out of the floor. Standing nearly as tall as him it looked almost like an Operative. A Commonwealth knight. He thought cautiously. Not enhanced. He noted the more clumsy movements.

It raised the sword, pointing it at him in a challenge as several Commonwealth soldiers filed in behind it. 

Not waiting, Ari opened fire, letting off two rounds. 

The first slammed into the large soldier's helmet, skimming off of it in a wave of sparks. The second blew through the next soldier before continuing on to blow the leg off of his comrade behind him. 

There were shouts as Ari rushed behind a wall, bullets striking the space she had just been in.

Calmly aiming at the front door he fired a single round through it, a cry of pain sounding from outside. 

Calmly picking the Commonwealth soldiers off with precise shots he, looked around as the wall behind him exploded. Light pops of gunfire outside sounding. 

He ducked under the sword of the imposing knight. The next swing he blocked with his rifle, the blade digging into it. The Knights free gloved hand shot out, gripping Ari’s throat in an iron embrace.

Drawing his knife he plunged it in the small gap in the suit by his abdomen, ripping upwards in an arc, warm blood coating his hand.

His armor growled, reinforcing his strength as he tossed Ari across the room. His Rifle clattered to the floor as he gasped for air. 

The Knight stumbled, holding the wound. 

Flipping the knife over in his hand Ari circled him, making a feint he got him to raise his sword with one hand. Dodging under it he stabbed two more times, once into his armpit and another into the gap on his other side. 

He cried out, his armor unable to make up for his failing limbs as he dropped to his knees. The sword clattering to the ground.

Ari walked over, picking his rifle up and quickly checking it over. 

Satisfied he stuck the barrel underneath his helmet and fired a single shot. 

Blood splattered his face as the helmet was thrown off the knights head. 

He sighed, turning and eventually finding the jamming device in the house. 

He would clear four more holdouts in the town. Around fifty soldiers in total when he was finished. He sat near the front of the town, cleaning his wounds as the tanks finally crested one of the hills, the marines slowly making their way over to him. 

Fireteams passed him silently, sweeping through the buildings long since cleared. 

Captain Carrington sat calmly on the last tank as it rolled into town, stepping off of it his boots sank awkwardly into the muddy ground. Ari gently grabbed his arm, keeping him upright, a thought crossing his mind to let the kid fall. 

He looked at Ari with a strange mix of embarrassment and anger before shaking his grip off. 

“I see you dealt with things adequately enough,” he said, looking back at the tank commander whose head was silently peering out front the top hatch, “get your tanks under some cover, camouflage the ones you can’t get under the overhangs, the Commonwealth might still be sweeping this area with some ground attack aircraft.”

 

The tank commander nodded, the tank's engine roaring as it was slowly guided by a marine between two buildings and a large camo net was thrown over it. 

“Confiscate any communications devices the locals might be in possession of, can’t have them specifying coordinates.”

Ari looked at some of the townspeople with a critical eye. They wore simple clothes, worn and obviously in need of replacement. He walked over to a graying man who had claimed the role as the town's representative. 

“There is a grave towards the front of town, who were they?” Ari asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. The man held his gaze, his eyes worn and haunted before shaking his head. 

“A family, they objected when a soldier took their daughter for an,” he hesitated, “interrogation.” 

They stood in silent understanding. Such things were common.

 

“We are here to help,” Ari said finally, looking at the man, “I’m Ari.” 

“Antonio,” the man said with a practiced smile, “you will forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. Those soldiers said the same thing when they came.”

“You are Imperial citizens,” Ari objected, “we would never hope to-”

A shot rang out from somewhere towards the edge of town, Ari looked out as birds scattered from where they had been peering atop buildings. When he turned back to Antonio he saw the man's expression had gone dark with a hint of disappointment before passing him and rushing off towards the gunshot. 

Captain Carrington meanwhile paid the gunshot no mind, instead choosing some lodging for the night from a selection of still intact shelters. Ari started to head towards the commotion but stopped as he was waived by the Captain to follow. 

Staring down the street as a young man was dragged by two soldiers out into the street Ari hesitated before slowly following after the young Captain. Two gunshots followed. Military caliber. Ari noted silently as a woman's screams of grief replaced the silence. 

The Captain arranged with an old woman to ‘rent’ one of her guest rooms, with arrangements for breakfast and coffee in the morning. The woman smiled a merchant's smile, practiced and precise, but Ari noticed the daggers glinting in the dim light as she watched the Captain’s men unload his personal effects into the room. 

Ari eventually was allowed to leave without so much as a word said between them. He would be told by a sergeant that a young man whose father was in the Commonwealth army had stowed away a small firearm and had shot one of the officers in the neck. The officer had lived, sporting a bandaged neck by the time Ari finally saw him. The boy on the other hand had been dealt with quickly, his mother given a small sum of money to compensate her. 

Ari found himself wondering if he should step in, this boy was obviously unfit to command this unit in pitched combat. Let alone his inability to keep control of the green recruits who looked like they had been plucked straight from the street corners of the red light district. 

Ari was shown to his own quarters, a tent hastily erected and guarded by two soldiers, each holding a rifle. It was as if he were both a valued asset and a potential threat.

After changing into a simple shirt and pants, Ari reached for his worn sketchbook and pencil. He took a moment to center himself. Closing his eyes, he thought back to a single, beautiful tree they had passed twenty miles back—a stark contrast to the desolation around his. With gentle strokes, he began sketching the tree's every leaf and branch. As he breathed in deeply, he could almost smell the earth and hear the rustle of leaves, a brief refuge from the harsh reality he faced.

He paused and flipped through the sketchbook's filled pages, each a snapshot of a lost moment or a lingering hope. His eyes stopped at one of his earliest drawings. It was a young woman, her face peaceful yet filled with determination. He felt a lump form in his throat and pressed the drawing against his chest as if trying to absorb its essence.

002, the second Operative created by Mother, had always been his sanctuary in the labyrinth of darkness they called home. He remembered their stolen moments, sitting side by side, staring up at the artificial stars above the lab. While 002 was a girl of few words, her smiles spoke volumes. They were like tiny rebellions, showing a sense of wonder and inner freedom. Ari dared to hope—still hoped—that he occupied some corner of her dreams as well.

She had always been in mine, he thought, his finger tracing the contours of the drawing. Last he heard, she had been deployed somewhere on this war-ravaged planet. A bittersweet hope clung to him; perhaps fate would cross their paths once more.

Just then, one of the guards interrupted his reverie. "Visitor for you, Lieutenant Hammond."

Snapping back to reality, Ari quickly hid the sketchbook under his pillow. "Come in," he called.

Lieutenant Hammond entered, his burly frame barely fitting through the tent flap. His face was etched with a mixture of concern and internal conflict. "What he's doing isn't fair to you," he blurted out, almost as if he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Ari's eyes shifted nervously to the tent flap. "Is this the time or place for this conversation?"

"They agree with me," Hammond reassured, his voice tinged with urgency. "Those of us who've seen enough know this is wrong. You're more than just a weapon—you're one of the Emperor's Chosen Children."

Ari's lips quivered for a moment before he steeled himself. "I am just a weapon," he replied, echoing the cold words that Mother had etched into his very soul. "I exist to die for the Empire, in any way my superiors see fit."

"That's no way to live," Hammond argued, his eyes softening, revealing a paternal concern.

"Operatives don't live; we merely exist between missions," Ari retorted, bitterness lacing his words.

"Don't say that," Hammond insisted, his eyes imploring. "You deserve more, so much more."

Tears welled up in Ari's eyes, but he blinked them back. I am the Emperor's weapon; that's all I will ever be, he reminded himself, fighting back his emotions.

"I'll report the Captain to high command," Hammond declared, getting up from his chair with a newfound resolve.

"No," Ari said softly but firmly, stopping him in his tracks.

Hammond turned, an incredulous look on his face. "No?"

"Do it if you must, but not for me," Ari clarified, his voice tinged with resignation. "If you believe he's a danger to you and your men, report him. But he's just using the resources given to him. I am that resource." As he spoke, he wished he could make himself believe his own words; perhaps then the weight he carried would be a little lighter.

Hammond stared at him, bewildered and heartbroken. He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head, and exited the tent, leaving Ari alone with his thoughts.

Retreating to his cot, Ari took a deep, shuddering breath. He lay there in the suffocating silence until sleep finally claimed him, bringing with it the haunting dreams that were his constant companions.

Ari opened his eyes to find himself atop a haunting hill, overlooking a forest that seemed almost alive in its dark expanse. The twisted carcasses of tanks and spaceships lay strewn about the hillside like the skeletal remains of fallen giants. Piles of bodies marked the midpoint of the hill, their positions suggesting they'd collapsed against an invisible force field. Ancient ruins clawed their way up from the base of the hill, their tendrils of stone and metal as if reaching for something lost.

Further up the hill, a sparse selection of bodies lay in disarray. He didn't recognize any of them; they were all strangers, perhaps souls who'd been pulled into this morbid tableau against their will.

"Just us, it seems, hmm?" A voice whispered from behind him, chilling him to the bone.

He pivoted, his breath catching in his throat. An enormous, ethereal beam of light shot upwards, splattering the sky in a surreal blend of purple and green. Between him and this spectacle stood a lone figure.

001—the original Operative. It was a monstrous vision, devoid of any shred of humanity, encased in an unholy fusion of bone and silver-colored armor. Its helmet wrapped around his head, with two jagged armor plates that met in a mesh, pulsating like some insectoid maw. Two malevolent, glowing green eyes bored into his very soul.

"Disappointed?" 001 sneered, as if savoring his reaction. "You wouldn't think something like that of 002."

"She is nothing like you," Ari managed, his voice quivering as he took a step back.

"She is exactly like me," 001 cackled, a malevolent sound that made the hill beneath them tremble. "I paved the way for all that is to come. Don't delude yourself. She's walking the same path, right behind me. And so are you."

Ari's breath hitched. No, they were wrong; 002 was nothing like this abomination. She was kind, she was heroic, and above all, she cared about him.

"I cared about someone, too, once," 001 said, its voice suddenly hollow, almost wistful. In a blinding flash, it closed the gap between them, gripping him by the neck and hoisting him into the air like a ragdoll. "Want to know what became of that love? What he will one day do to you?"

Ari's eyes snapped open. He was back in his cot, drenched in cold sweat. His hands shot to his throat; it was untouched, yet the sensation of that iron grip remained. He sank back into his cot, his eyes clenched shut, his heart pounding in his chest. It had felt unbearably, terrifyingly real.

Then again, it always did.

Ari wiped away tears that he hadn't realized he'd shed, and reached for his sketchbook lying next to him. Could his longing for decency be just a child's fantasy? No, it couldn't be.

There was a commotion outside, shouts of anger and one of terror. Ari jumped from his cot, snatching his rifle easily off its rack and rushing outside. His two guards had their rifles at the ready and quickly fell into step with his. Captain Carrington exited his own quarters, a look of bewilderment on his face as he wrapped a brown cloak around his sleep attire. 

Several marines were aiming their weapons at a group of townspeople who held a marine with a knife to his throat. On the ground was a woman, her face bruised, crying and shaking, beside her was a marine, a gunshot wound through his chest.

“Lower your weapons god damn it!” Carrington ordered, his voice not carrying the order properly over the chaos.

“Lower your weapons now!” Ari ordered, his voice carrying easily as the marines obeyed, shouldering their firearms. 

Carrington cast an unreadable look towards him before focusing back on the marines and townspeople. 

“What's the meaning of this?” He asked, looking expectantly at his marines. 

“Your man drunkenly attacked one of our women,” Antonio said, a dark look on his face as he glared at the young Captain, “when his comrade intervened he shot him!”

Ari’s fingers tapped his combat knife, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it. 

“Is this true?” Carrington looked at the sergeant who looked down before nodding his head.

“Seems to be Captain, luckily people intervened,” the Sergeant looked down shamefully, two other veterans nodded their heads, though several objections were raised by several of the younger marines. 

Captain Carrington seemed lost for a moment, looking between the townspeople, their faces filled with a mixture of anger and expectation and his marines who seemed disappointed he would even consider taking the townsfolk side. 

“Take him in front of my quarters,” Carrington said quietly, waving for the marines to take him, “whats, whats his name?”

“Private Summers Sir,” the Sergeant replied simply.

The man holding the marine at knife point lowered the blade, allowing the two closest marines to grab both of his arms.

The two groups followed the Captain back to his quarters. Ari followed him inside quietly. He watched as he suddenly started shaking as he searched through his makeshift work desk, scattering papers and data pads across it. He seemed to be searching for something specific. 

He eventually found it, reading over something on his datapad. He read some parts out loud, but only in pieces.

“If a soldier in his service should…”

“Discretion of commanding officer…”

“Carried out by company…”

Afterwards he pulled up the accused man's military record, he tapped on several other incidents reported.

He shakily put the pad down, hanging his head with a loud sigh before straightening himself and walking back outside. 

He walked over to the Sergeant, speaking quietly so the townspeople could not hear him.

“Sergeant, tie him to that post over there,” Captain Carrington said, drawing his pistol and examining it carefully, he was pale now. His hand barely able to properly secure the weapon, he looked at his marines doing his best to make his voice strong, “we are the Emperor’s marines, we conduct ourselves according to the Imperial Codex of War, and any breaking of that should result in a tribunal of the accused. However when one commits such an act in a warzone and may endanger the lives of others the commanding officer may carry out an execution.”

The townspeople had gone silent, meanwhile whispers and grumbling broke out among the marines. Lieutenant Hammond and the Sergeant quickly quelled the murmurs, their own opinions hidden behind  serious faces. 

Private Summers struggled against the two marines dragging him, “fuck you Captain, you spineless piece of shit!” 

The Captain had gone silent, pistol gripped in his hand. Once the man was tied to the post the Captain raised his pistol, and nothing. The Captain’s hand was shaking as he gripped the pistol. Silence had fallen over the area. 

The private, perhaps sensing the Captain’s weakness, began to silently sneer in contempt.

Ari flexed his hands, looking at the Captain before slowly looking over the crowd. If he didn’t carry out his declared sentence now not only would the town scorn them but the marines under his command would be even more likely to commit acts against the populace. 

His mothers voice popped into his head. One of the instructions given to an Operative was to be the weapon at their betters disposal. Perhaps the Captain was overlooking him as an option.

He took several steps forward to be beside the Captain before leaning over, “I would be honored to carry out the sentence.” 

The Captain spun on him, eyes flashing anger before he noticed the doubting faces of the crowd around them. Something else flashed in his eyes as he looked between Ari and the private. Ari blinked in surprise, was that hatred he saw?

“Yes, I think that would be better,” the Captain said, raising his head in a failed attempt at maintaining dignity as he handed the pistol to Ari, “once in the head please.” 

Ari turned, squeezing the trigger and firing a single round straight through the mans skull. He slumped instantly, with Ari nodding in satisfaction at the shot. He handed the pistol back to the Captain who merely stared at him. 

“Everyone disperse!” Lieutenant Hammond bellowed as he turned to the crowd.

After that fateful evening, an eerie silence settled over the town for the next few days. However, on the fourth day, the tranquility was shattered when a sealed communique arrived for the Captain. Ari and Hammond received orders to report to the Captain's quarters immediately. As they approached the worn wooden door, Ari thanked the elderly homeowner who greeted them with a resigned smile before opening the door.

Stepping inside, they found themselves in a room heavy with the scent of tobacco and aged leather. The Captain sat at his worn desk, the dim glow from a desk lamp illuminating his pale face as he fixated on a datapad.

Ari felt a knot tighten in his stomach, and he exchanged a puzzled look with Hammond before the Captain looked up and acknowledged their presence.

"The 14th and 9th have been annihilated in a counteroffensive. We're being rotated to the front lines to support the 22nd," he disclosed, his voice tinged with an anguish that he couldn't hide. "New officers are coming in to take the 7th from me."

A mix of dread and anticipation filled the room. Hammond, trying to cut through the tension, chimed in. "Well, at least our boys will finally see some heavy combat. I'll get the officers assembled."

With a curt nod, Hammond exited, leaving Ari alone in the stifling atmosphere of the room. The Captain leaned back in his chair, exhaling a long, shaky breath before breaking into an unsettling laugh.

"You planned this somehow," he slurred, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid from under the table and taking a defiant swig. "Your kind always finds a way to win, don't they?"

"Sir, I don't understand," Ari said cautiously, flinching as the bottle flew past his face, shattering against the dark wooden wall and leaving a wet stain.

"Don't feign innocence. From day one, you've played the role of the shining warrior, haven't you?" His eyes narrowed, and he staggered to his feet, gripping the edge of the table for support. "All along, you've been subtly undermining me. Turning my men and this town against me. Your entire kind is just twisted, isn't it?"

Ari felt his pulse quicken, his mouth going dry. In a moment of candid emotion, he retorted, "You've done that yourself."

As the words escaped his lips, Ari froze. Why had he said that? What would happen now?

The Captain stared at him, and for a fleeting moment, Ari thought he saw a glimmer of realization cross his eyes—but then it was gone, replaced by an even deeper darkness.

“You,” he snarled uselessly as he sat back in his chair, “get out of my sight monster.” 

Several hours later they had set off, leaving the town behind them.

Ari reclined in his seat as the armored transport rumbled inexorably toward the frontline. Streams of civilians—the collateral damage of war—fled in the opposite direction. Their faces were etched with haunted expressions that Ari knew he'd remember for a lifetime. A few children, perhaps too young to grasp the gravity of their situation, waved at the passing soldiers. Ari mustered a smile and waved back, but his eyes couldn't help but shift to the metamorphosing landscape outside.

Once verdant fields and dense, peaceful forests were now marred by the scars of war. What had once resembled a pastoral painting was now more akin to a nightmarish hellscape. The earth was gouged open, as if it too had suffered wounds, with mud oozing out like brown, coagulated blood. Deep trenches dissected the land, and the carcasses of tanks and even entire aircraft lay sunken in the mire, forgotten monuments to failed human endeavor.

The landscape brought an unbidden thought to the forefront of his mind: What hell had 002 been enduring out here? A wave of guilt washed over him, complicating his earlier feelings of dissatisfaction with his assignment. He had been pouting about his orders, resenting his inexperienced Captain, and feeling underutilized. But was he not, at that very moment, headed toward the place he felt he should be? A place where he could be of real use? And yet, even that idea felt tinged with a selfish desire—to find 002, to ensure he was alright, to fight by his side just like they had in what felt like another lifetime.

Ari closed his eyes briefly, wrestling with the confusing medley of emotions that churned within him. He felt a strange amalgam of guilt for wanting more action, worry for the woman who had always stood by him, and a newfound, unsettling empathy for the people whose lives had been upturned by this war.

His eyes widened further as they drove past the artillery units. Mammoth cannons, engineering marvels that belied their grim purpose, launched rocket-assisted shells that could traverse several hundreds of miles. The ground itself seemed to tremble with the concussive force of each shot, sending a primal shiver down Ari's spine.

Adjacent to the artillery were the repair units, swarming with engineers and technicians. They buzzed around damaged fighter craft, each a casualty of the dangerous aerial ballet occurring far above them. Sparks flew, welding torches flared, and the scent of hot metal filled the air as these units labored to return their birds to the sky, and into the maw of the ongoing conflict.

Inside the transport, the atmosphere had become thick with tension. Ari looked around and noticed the stark transformation in his comrades. The new recruits, previously flushed with the naïve excitement of youth, had turned ashen. Their eyes darted nervously, and their faces held a greenish tint, as if the reality of war had settled in their stomachs and was threatening to come back up.

As if on cue, their own artillery began its relentless cacophony. The initial hiss of rockets and shells slicing through the air resonated in the confined space, cutting through the tension like a knife. Several marines flinched visibly, their eyes widening and jaws tightening.

For a split second, the sounds vanished, swallowed by the void before them, leaving an eerie silence. Then, the far-off booms reached their ears, each explosion a ghostly echo that seemed to reverberate in the very marrow of their bones.

Ari remained silent as the transport finally crossed the final miles to arrive at the front. 

Hopping out, Ari turned, pausing to look above. Hundreds of ships, small shapes far above were visible, dashes of light flashing as the two fleets far above battled. Hundreds of streaks of light were across the sky, rockets striking all parts of the battlefield around him. 

And what a horrible sight it was, miles of mud, pockets of water and black dirt kicked up at random without the faintest hint of green to be seen. In between the dark mud, smaller pockets of light lit up as gunfire and laserfire intermixed, smoke constantly rolling over the entire area as far as Ari’s eyes could see. 

Ari and the 7th crossed even more miles only just beginning to approach the front. A constant stream of dead or dying soldiers were carried past them on stretchers, the cries and explosions intermixing into a chorus rising up all around them. The sound felt suffocating, as if it was closing around Ari’s throat. Overhead fighters flew past, firing into positions they couldn’t see. Some were hit by flak, rolling over and hitting the ground in a faint explosion. 

Somewhere far off something exploded, shaking the very ground so much so that soldiers lost their footing, collapsing to the floor. 

Miles off to their right Ari could see the glowing green wave of chemical smoke crashed over a Commonwealth position. Ari fiddled with his mask, making sure its filtration was functioning correctly.  

  

Marines marched back past them with cracked armor, missing limbs and some missing most of their armor entirely. The looks on their faces were haunted, young men and women with lines now aging their faces beyond recognition. 

The Imperial defensive positions were layered in four overlapping lines. Two lines carefully positioned in the center had a shock group backed by two battalions of marines positioned seventy yards behind them. Behind that reserve was an enormous trench nearly fifty yards wide and several miles long. Smaller transports could reposition behind the lines without exposing themselves to fire. 

To the right and left were the other two lines of troops, these dug in defensive positions with multiple overlapping fields of fire nearly across the entire line. Some positions even had tanks sunk up to their turrets to provide a sort of pillbox support. Further past the lines were hundreds of scattered foxholes serving as forward posts to delay enemy advances.

In front of all of them was the target the generals coveted. The city of Proko. Its ruins were barely visible in the distance through the haze. 

Imperial bombardment had long since brought the once towering skyscrapers down. 

Ari ducked as a violent explosion shattered the air, hurling a forty-foot-wide wave of mud skyward before it came crashing down like a filthy rain. Amid the chaos, Ari could hear the grotesque sound of mud mixed with human remains slapping back onto the earth—punctuated by the grinding of armored vehicles repositioning. Shouts of agony and confusion erupted all around him.

Nearby, an officer stumbled through the mire, his eyes glazed over with shock, his arm missing from the elbow down. He frantically dug through the mud, sifting through an indistinguishable blend of earth and human remains.

"I lost my ring," he mumbled, his eyes unfocused as though seeing through time itself. "Can't lose that. Can't lose that."

The words struck Ari like a bullet.

With a wave of his hand, Ari signaled a corpsman. "Stay with me," he said softly, placing a gentle hand on the disoriented soldier's shoulder. "We'll take care of you first, then we'll find your ring."

A glimmer of relief passed through the soldier's eyes as the corpsman arrived, directing them toward the medical tent. Ari's armor made light work of the injured man's weight. As he carried him, his eyes remained peeled on the churned earth they traversed.

After laying him carefully on a cot in the medical tent, Ari turned away, his chest heavy with a sense of inadequacy. He was trained to be an Operative—to fight, to survive, but moments like these reminded him of the limitations of his role.

Unable to let go of the soldier's distress, Ari decided to make one more sweep of the battlefield, assisting medics in carrying another wounded soldier back to the tent. Each face he encountered was a blur, but his mission was clear. Amidst the rubble and remains, his eyes caught a glint of metal. Bending down, he unearthed a mud-caked ring.

Ari returned to the medical tent, hope welling up in him as he approached the soldier, who was now being attended to by medics. He placed the ring into his remaining hand, closing his fingers around it.

His eyes met Ari’s, filled with a complex mix of relief, sorrow, and something indescribable. For the first time that day, Ari felt a tiny fracture in the wall of helplessness that had encased him.

"Thank you," he whispered, clutching the ring as if it were his very soul.

Ari nodded, swallowing hard against the emotional lump in his throat. "Hang on to it.”

Eventually, Ari caught up with the 7th, a battalion now rotated up to occupy the first line of defense—or offense, depending on the ever-shifting tides of battle. The 7th was the vanguard, the first to either storm enemy lines or hold their ground against an incoming assault. Even in the cloak of night, squads from the 7th began to disperse, their forms almost spectral as they waded through the mud-cloaked nightmare, reinforcing the foxholes that served as crucial early-warning posts.

But the night was deceptive, never truly dark. It was a canvas incessantly invaded by artificial light, robbing soldiers of the cover darkness might have provided. Flares arced into the sky at irregular intervals, their fizzling ascents followed by an eruption of glaring light that rendered the landscape in sharp, ominous relief. Star shells burst overhead, showering the earth in iridescent hues of blue and white, turning mud puddles into tiny, reflective lakes and casting eerie, elongated shadows on the faces of the troops. Explosions from artillery and grenades added their own erratic lighting, a pyrotechnic display that would have been mesmerizing if not for its blinding effects. These detonations painted the scene in flashes of orange, imbuing everything and everyone with a surreal, otherworldly glow. The intermittent lighting made the mud seem like a flowing river of lava one moment and a desolate lunar landscape the next.

During one of those blinding bursts of light from overhead flares, a piercing alarm cut through the cacophony. Soldiers jolted from their positions, their faces twisted with a blend of readiness and terror. Ari snatched up his rifle, his senses sharpening as he took his position behind an armored shield that topped the trench.

Through the slotted visor, he saw it—something monstrous darting between the foxholes. It was immense, nearly as long as two tanks laid end-to-end, its long tail shimmering in silver and blue light. An advanced Commonwealth warbot, its body like that of a dragon. His gut clenched as bullets pinged off its metallic hide. In retaliation, the warbot whirled, letting loose a barrage of mini-rockets that silenced the foxholes in a spectacle of fire and gore. The screams that followed were guttural, filled with a primal fear that rattled even the most hardened soldiers around him.

But what sent shivers down Ari's spine was the figure mounted atop the warbot. Clad in shining armor of silver and blue that matched its monstrous steed, the knight-like figure sported a single twisted metal horn on his helmet. He brandished a spear, its shaft alive with undulating lights of green, blue, and red. It looked as though it were forged from nightmares and technology, giving it an ethereal yet sinister aura.

The 7th and 22nd opened fire alongside others, tracer rounds arcing through the night, illuminated by the perpetual light show. But they might as well have been firing pebbles. Ari watched as the bullets merely bounced off, as harmless as raindrops. He took aim at the rider, his sights focused on a vulnerable spot between the arm and breastplate. He pulled the trigger.

A brilliant flash erupted, and the rider was hurled from the warbot, tumbling through the air before landing in the mud with a sickening thud.

For a moment, Ari allowed himself a brief grin. But it was short-lived. With a mechanical roar that seemed to shake the very earth, the warbot surged forward, its limbs churning the mud as if it were water. Soldiers screamed, scrambling in a panic, some trapped in the slick mire as the monstrous machine lunged into the trench.

Ari threw himself back just in time, the beast landing where he had stood just moments before. Its mechanical eyes glowed a menacing red, scanning for its next target. Around him, soldiers from the 7th  froze, the horror of what they faced rendering them momentarily paralyzed.

A deafening burst of gunfire erupted from the 22nd Marines, snapping the immobilized soldiers out of their trance. The warbot spun on its axis, extending long blades from its chassis. In an instant, the trench transformed into a grisly blender, whirling metal through air and flesh.

Ari executed a rapid roll, squeezing the trigger to fire rounds into the beast's exposed joints. A nearby flak gun swiveled, its operator focusing on the warbot. With thunderous thunks, the gun spat flak rounds into the behemoth's side.

For a split second, the warbot wavered under the relentless barrage. But then the flak gun fell silent. Whirling around, Ari cursed—he saw the knight, now on foot, finishing off the last member of the flak crew. He vaulted into the trench beside him.

Darting backward, Ari dodged his whirling spear. Then he switched tactics, drawing a pistol and snapping off two shots. His armor absorbed the bullets, but he felt the impact like a sledgehammer to his chest.

Behind him, the warbot's roars resounded, mingling with the screams of dying soldiers. Firing his rifle, Ari targeted the knight's leg, bringing him to one knee. With a quick lunge, he overpowered him, forcing the spear against his throat. Metal shrieked against metal; his suit whined, struggling to compensate for his superior strength.

Suddenly, a searing pain erupted in his shoulder. Metallic jaws clamped down, wrenching him away. Ari unleashed a furious scream, his hands clawing at the warbot's maw.

The knight rose, his spear poised for the kill. But then he froze. Ari, too, heard it—the ground-shaking rumble, like a tank but deeper, angrier. The warbot released him, turning to face the new threat.

Ari scrambled aside just as a brilliant flash rocketed past him. It struck the knight, hurling him through the air before he crashed into the muck. His heart leapt—standing there was 002, encased in hulking battle armor, the gauntlets of her suit still smoking.

Cheers erupted from the soldiers. Their elation, however, was cut short. The warbot lunged at 002, its gaping maw aiming to devour her. But it was halted mid-air, its jaws pried open by 002's immense strength.

Marines of the 22nd wheeled the flak gun back into position, aiming directly into the warbot's vulnerable spots as 002 held it in place and firing at point-blank range. The knight had regained his footing and hurled his spear, skewering two marines. Unfazed by their losses, the crew kept firing. Seizing the moment, Ari lunged at the knight, tackling him into the slippery mud.

With a feral snarl, Ari unleashed a punch that shattered the knight's visor. Staggering, he tried to regain his stance. But before he could move, his own spear flew through the air, sticking him to the ground like a gruesome butterfly pinned to a board.

Silence fell over the trench, periodically interrupted by cries from the wounded. Soldiers from the reserve trench behind them quickly poured into the area, preparing for a possible follow up attack. 

Ari stood silently over the Knight body. He had been stronger than any knight he had fought before. He heard 002 approaching behind him and shivered, 001’s words echoing in his mind. 

She is exactly like me. They had said. 

No, Ari thought, feeling his heart tighten in both anticipation and fear as 002 stopped right behind him. 

For a few seconds, neither spoke.

"You did well," she finally said, her voice tinged with a metallic resonance from her helmet.

Ari almost laughed as he turned around. "Well? Two minutes later, and the whole trench would've been a graveyard."

002 removed her helmet, revealing a face that was as stoic as her armor. Her eyes met his. "But it isn't. That's what matters."

She reached out, her gauntleted hand heavy on his shoulder where the warbot had clamped its jaws. The touch was surprisingly gentle for such a massive suit of armor. "You're hurt."

Ari shrugged, trying to downplay the soreness that was now settling in. "We’ve been through worse."

For a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something in her eyes—relief, maybe, or concern. But it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. Instead she gestured with her head for him to follow. 

The medic wrapped up Ari's wound and declared him fit to continue, 002 watched him, her face unreadable. The fluorescent lights in the medical tent seemed to bathe everything in a cold, sterile glow, but the atmosphere changed perceptibly when she led him outside.

The officers' quarters were a far cry from luxury, dug directly into the muddy earth and consisting of little more than a cot and a small desk. The walls were reinforced with corrugated metal, lending a harsh industrial feel to the space. Yet, when Ari turned around, he was surprised to find 002 still standing at the entrance.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, an unusual display for someone who usually radiated certainty. Then she placed her helmet on a makeshift shelf by the door. For the first time that evening, her eyes met his and softened.

"Good to see you," she began, her voice catching just a little, "I was worried that..." She trailed off, shaking her head as if unable to find the words.

Ari felt a warmth bloom in his chest at his unspoken sentiment. "Yeah," he replied, his own voice softer than he'd intended, "me too."

For a long moment, they simply looked at each other. Then, as if guided by some mutual understanding, 002 stepped forward and pulled him gently into her arms. Even through the fabric of his uniform and his armor, he could feel the heat of her body.

Their foreheads touched, the simple point of contact sending a shiver down his spine. 

Ari closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the embrace. And for a moment, surrounded by mud, metal, and the remnants of war, he found a pocket of peace. 

And it was enough.

[kathbunny]

random modern au Kyana angst drabble??

I don't know what to warn for here- it's just kinda sad. And it's about glow in the dark stars and pens and a lack of freedom and plans that can't happen-

 Kyana had a packet of glow in the dark stars, faintly glowing within the plastic which held them. She wouldn’t be able to put them on her ceiling tonight, or truely any other night. They’d remain forever in the drawer of her nightstand, next to that little notebook full of abandoned future plans for her life and the pens she had accidentally stolen from friends. The little glitter gel pen which had run out of ink months ago, gold and glitter still staining the tube, making you think it could maybe write just a little more. The fancy black one with the fake gold, where the ink dripped into the cap after the tip broke. The blue mechanical one which would never run out of ink, but also never write consistently; some moments it wrote smoothly and in others the ink wouldn’t even stain the paper. The untouched pen with black ink, given to her so new that the cap was still a little bit stuck. 

 Her ceiling with the white popcorn paint would never get to be made a little more beautiful with the wonder of little made up constellations. Never given interest with little stars that’d randomly fall off in the night and need to be put back up in the morning. Her ceiling wouldn’t ever be painted blue with silver and gold specks. Her walls would never be that shade of purple she loved. She wasn’t allowed to pick those things for herself, so her walls just remained white. What made her deserve this? These white walls she could never tarnish? 

 Kyana shut the drawer, not letting her contemplate much more. In the morning she’d tell her friends she put them up, that they made her room so much happier. They wouldn’t know that even that was something she couldn’t do, amongst their list that was already too long. She would smile and they would smile too.

[literaryobsession]

lost || mirio x fem!reader

summary: you saw Mirio Togata’s journey from entering UA to the Shie Hassakai mission

warning: mentions of fighting and death

word count: 2262

chapters: i , ii , iii, iv , v , vi, vii , viii,

CHAPTER IV - AGENCY

To say that I was intimidated by Sir Nighteye when I first entered his office is quite the understatement. His eyes were so sharp that you could almost feel his gaze drilling in you, searching for answers that he needs even without asking questions.

"We found the hide out of the gang that was causing problems yesterday, Sir." I stood in front of him with Bubble Girl's report on hand. "Lemillion and I easily mapped out their location for you."

After getting used to his intimidating dark blue aura, I was confident in all my dealings with him. He was a calculating man but he was kind to those who pass his quality checks.

I offered him my hand made map, with the cute legends he loved so much. I made maps for him this way, putting cat stickers as the legend for anything we were searching for. Sir Nighteye found it extremely cute.

"Can you and Lemillion handle this yourself, North Star?" He glanced at my map, studying it for a few minutes. "The gang isn't too big and the mission is not too difficult."

I gave him a huge smile, "We got this, Sir." He gave me a nod before giving me back my map. Although it was cutesy, it was accurate. I didn't want to sacrifice the quality for my aesthetics.

"Report back to me once you're done."

***

I led Lemillion to the abandoned restaurant and saw the glow of all five members of the gang, confirming their locations in the building. I told him about what I saw and reminded him of what we were assigned to do.

"Think you can wrap it up in ten minutes?" I whispered to Mirio as we prepared for battle. He was dressed in his Lemillion hero costume and I was also dressed up in mine which was a black body suit, with my white utility belt and glasses. I didn't want to be too flashy since I was merely Lemillion's sidekick. "Sir Nighteye alerted the police, they'll be here soon."

Lemillion gave me his signature wide grin, assuring me that everyone will go according to plan, "Well, I To-gata go then!" He loved this joke immensely.

I let out a soft chuckle, already used to his lame jokes. "Go then. I am right behind you." He disappeared through the restaurant entrance and I scaled the wall quietly. Under Sir Nighteye's guidance, I developed a technique to see the faint glows of the people around me. It was still a small territory but it helped me in missions that require stealth.

I slipped past the window and saw that Lemillion was already wiping out the gang. I scouted the place with my eyes and gasped softly.

"Lemillion! Your right! There are people there!" I yelled out to him. Even before the bullets hit him, he disappeared.

I let out a shaky breath. Where did they come from? And why did I not detect them before?

I jumped from the second floor to the first, cuffing and restraining the ones that Lemillion already wiped out.

When he appeared, he was hauling three more people and dropping them in front of me. "The other guy could shield their energies, that's why I couldn't sense them." He told me before restraining them himself. "Thanks, North Star."

I gave him a smile, "Sure thing." We perked up when we heard the police sirens. "They're here."

We gave our reports to the police and made our way back to the agency.

"I have to start writing a comprehensive report for Sir Nighteye when we get back." I stretched as we walked.

He chuckled, "He loves your reports."

"He loves that I print them out in fragrant stationery." I grinned proudly, able to make sure that he won't put me in that tickling machine again. "And the fact that he is amused by all those stickers you gave me."

"And here I thought they won't be useful!" Mirio laughed. He waved at the young kids who greeted us loudly. "Be safe!"

I walked beside him quietly, enjoying his glow. I rubbed my eyes hastily which caught his attention.

"You okay?" He peered down to my face.

"Yeah, scouting for glows isn't something I'm used to just yet. It dries out my eyes." I told him, "I'll get eyedrops before we go home." My quirk strains my eyes, much like Eraser Head. I can't blink while my quirk is activated or else I'll need to start focusing again. It was easier to focus on one but Sir Nighteye pushes me to widen my range.

"We'll get you eyedrops now." Mirio dragged me to the nearest pharmacy. He greeted the owner and bought two for me. "One that you can leave in your desk in the agency and one for your dorm!"

I took them from him, "Thanks, Lemillion."

"Anything for you, star." He grinned, a pink hue scattering all over his nose. "Well then, Sir will be looking for us."

Mirio and I arrived at the agency and went out separate ways. If he doesn't have any assignments from Sir Nighteye, Mirio goes off to catch up on his academics. He wasn't the best student so Sir ordered him to bring his grades up.

I prepared reports beside Bubble Girl, learning the ins and outs of the agency. I had the contacts of all establishments, public or private, and Sir Nighteye gave me the privilege to talk to anyone who reaches out to him in his behalf.

Ring ring

"Good day, you've reached Nighteye Agency. Is there anything I can help you with today?" I received the call, pausing from the report I was typing. The call was something Sir Nighteye was looking forward to, it was from a hero who had information about the Shie Hassaikai, the yakuza. "You can send the information right now and I will deliver it to Sir Nighteye."

Once the report is with me, I printed it out and went straight to Sir's office. "Sir? The report that you wanted for the Shie Hassaikai just arrived. I'll leave it on your desk." I put the papers down as Sir Nighteye was busy with his computer.

"Thank you."

I left in a hurry, there was no humor or energy in that conversation but Sir Nighteye seemed to be distracted.

When I got back to my table, I finished the report of the earlier events and handed it to Sir Nighteye before Mirio appeared to fetch me.

"You worked hard today, North Star." He was back in his usual clothes, ready to leave. "Let me just say goodbye to Sir while you change."

"Alright."

After a few minutes, I was back in my own normal clothes, my hero costume in my bag for safekeeping.

"Ready to go, Y/N?" Mirio stood up from my chair and grinned wide, "Sir Nighteye gave me restaurant coupons! He said we should use them and treat ourselves for a job well done!"

I nodded. Even though Sir Nighteye appeared to be strict, he was soft with us. He let us have the gifts that people send the agency as thanks for any mission we have accomplished, most of them were food. Sir Nighteye never fails to acknowledge our hard work as well, as he would with our mistakes.

"Let's go get dinner then." I took Mirio's hand and squeezed.

He was surprised when I took his hand, so much so that he blushed in the process. "Ah, Y/N, don't surprise me like that! My heart was just about to burst!"

"You two are the cutest!" Bubble Girl was also packing up. "Go on a date before I tell Sir Nighteye that you're flirting in the premises again."

"Don't tell on us! He'll scold me again!" Mirio laughed.

The coupon was so special that it allowed us to have a four course meal on the house. Mirio was so delighted when the steak came, "Remind me to thank Sir Nighteye again!" He exclaimed.

"Yes, you said that two minutes ago, Mirio." I was surprised at what happened too. I was expecting to have at least a discount for our meal but apparently not. Everything we had was free.

Because we have been working under Sir Nighteye, Mirio and I were already receiving compensation. Sir Nighteye was generous with our pay that we were receiving more than the rest of our class. We could pay for the meal if we wanted to but it was already free so we didn't refuse the gift. We barely eat out in fancy places like this anyway, Mirio and I had an agreement that we'll save up so we can get an apartment with Tamaki after graduation. Nejire would have loved to join us but her parents already had an apartment ready for her, it would be a waste to let it go.

"So, how have you been, Y/N?"

I stared at Mirio, "We're together every day, sunny. If there's any update in my life, you'd know."

"Nejire told me you're receiving anonymous love letters in your locker." Mirio pouted, the ever frank and honest boy can never hide anything.

I scrunched up my nose, "I received two and I think that's just a prank." I waved off the idea that anyone could be interested in me. Sure, I wasn't ugly but compared to Nejire, who can really like me?

"Prank? You're amazing!" He pouted more. "I'm sure anyone who wrote that knows you're amazing!"

I started to laugh, "I'm not sure if you're jealous or supportive."

Mirio opened his mouth to respond but he paused and closed it. "I... I am neither." He looked at his steak, poking it with his fork, "Look, I just know that whoever gets to date you is one lucky guy. Don't beat yourself up."

Then his blues found my eyes again, "Just...if you like someone and plan to date them, you'd tell me right?"

My heart ached. I wanted to tell him that I like him and that I wanted to date him but how can I? Mirio is destined for greatness and I...was simply there to watch him.

Besides, he didn't need the distraction and I simply refuse to ruin the friendship that we had.

"Of course." I told him quietly, reaching out and squeezing his hand. My hand looked small, too small, against his but the feeling was safe and familiar. His hand always felt like home.

"I love you." He murmured softly. "You are my best friend, I love you."

I could almost swear that I saw my life pass by my eyes as I heard those words from him. Mirio was always so affectionate towards me but he has never actually told me he loves me.

As a friend.

"I love you a lot too, Mirio." I gave his hand another squeeze. His hand turned, grasping mine. "Don't worry, sunny, I don't plan to date anyone soon."

"Aw, don't say that." He rubbed his nose with his free hand. "A beautiful girl like you should go on many dates. Guys should take you on amazing dates!" Mirio regained his energy, "I can take you out on a date!"

Then, just to tease him, I smirked, "Is this not a date?"

He paused, reddening on the face, "Ah! Stop teasing me! I just might fall for you!" Mirio grasped his chest, right above his heart, "My poor heart is about to burst!"

"You always say that." I laughed.

"Because it is about to burst! A pretty girl like you flirting back is too muc for my poor heart to bear!" He chuckled before grinning wide, "Don't blame me if I really fall for you, Y/N. Keep on teasing me and I'll really jump off."

Why are we not dating really?

***

"You told me that you're scared to tell him." Tamaki broke the silence between us. I snuck off after curfew to Tamaki's room. The poor boy was so surprised that he almost woke up the entire building.

We sat on his bed, our backs on the wall.

"Should I tell him?" I pouted at Tamaki, the only one who can make sense of all of these. We have been friends for years and Tamaki has known about my little crush for awhile. He promised to keep the secret and I was almost glad to share it with someone because I needed to talk it out with somebody else.

"You said you don't want to ruin what you have." He hit me with my own words, reminding me of the answers I gave him when he asked why I just didn't tell Mirio about my blossoming feelings.

"Tamaaaa~"

Tamaki glanced at me, giving me a small smile. "Even if he doesn't return the feelings, do you think Mirio would let anything ruin your friendship? He values you too much to do that."

That's true.

"And what if he does like you back? Is that not worth the fear?" Tamaki added softly. He looked at the window, staring at the bright full moon.

I looked at Tamaki, the kindness on his face evident. He and I looked up to Mirio, I can say he admired Mirio more than I could ever do. Tamaki has always seen Mirio as the sun, the brightest sun. To which Mirio retorted that if he was the sun, then Tamaki was something simply even bigger. That Tamaki could wipe the sun out in an instant.

"Thank you, Tama." I leaned my head on his shoulder, surprising him.

"No problem, star."

[deertism]

some of our furniture got delivered & we went grocery shopping so we're moving in fully tomorrow. i will try to post stuff every day, but i do have some flags in the queue to be posted incase we're too busy getting settled. we plan on getting a new desk & chair at the end of the month / start or next month. the bed frame and chest of drawers match!

please ignore the lack of sheets on my bed, it just got set up & i havent unpacked the bedding yet. ill get our tv & other things ( extension cords , led lights , our xbox if i can find it , etc. ) sometime this week, so i won't be entirely bored. i DO have my laptop so it's not my top priority atm. i also got this adorable tiny set of drawers to go on our desk!

i also plan to get some shelves to put our book & oddity collections on. i may make them myself if it's cheaper than buying them. until then, i am making a list of things i want to get for our room ( black out curtains , soft lights since we have sensitive eyes , posters / some things to print out for wall decor , glow in the dark stars to put on our ceiling , etc. ) if you have any ideas please feel free to drop them in our ask box ! ^-^

[countlessrealities]

Morty offered his counterpart a sympathetic grin and squeezed his hand in further reassurance. He understood perfectly how his other self was feeling. Not only the place was a little ominous, but its recent history wasn't exactly promising. However, there was also a certain beauty and a thrill in the unkempt wildness that surrounded them and that made him think that they could still have a good time.

"I-It's okay. I mean, w-we spend so much time around the Ricks an-and they are paranoid about everything, so...I-I guess we picked it up from them," he said with a little chuckle, even if he was only half joking. The scientist's behaviours and mindset tended to be contagious, or at least they were for him. "I-I'm sure that once we're settled y-you'll feel better."

His grin turned into a shy smile as his boyfriend voiced what he had been thinking. Having some time and room to be on their own without the risk of someone interrupting them. Kissing under the stars, in the dim-darkness. Maybe even getting a little bolder.

"T-That would be nice. S-Stargazing," he hurried to blurt out, nodding his head in agreement. His ears were so hot that he was sure they had to be emitting smoke. "An-And...yeah, making out. An-And stuff."

To try and stop feeling like and idiot, he leant in a placed a lingering kiss against the corner of his counterpart's mouth. Then he pulled him by the arm a little.

"C-C'mon, I want to see i-if the hotel is as cool as it looked in the picture. An-And we can pick our room and explore!"

Rick rolled his eyes slightly as he glanced back just in time to see his Morty trying to coax his counterpart into a small run. So much for being all hesitant. Whatever had been making his other grandson wary seemed to have already lost its power on him. Well, better that way. It meant that the little shit wouldn't be spoiling their vibe.

His boyfriend's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and the scientist instantly put all his attention on his other self. And how could he have not, with that hand grasping his side and those lips brushing his ear as the other spoke? It was enough to send a hot shiver running down his spine.

"D-Damn, I was thinking about hitting the beach, b-but I like your plan much better, lover," he replied with a smirk, bumping his hip lightly against the other. "I-It's been fuckin' forever since I-I took a hot bath."

And it felt like it had been even longer since the two of them had had more than just fleeting moments of intimacy. Not that he wanted to complain about the short, intense quickies they had had in the last weeks, but he missed having the chance to fully enjoy and explore his boyfriend's body.

"I-I miss you," he purred, nuzzling his face against his counterpart's. "I-I'm sure that the Mortys can handle themselves for a few hours. An-And they can't fuckin' complain, s-since they were the ones to insist on this vacation shit."

Deep down, though, he had to admit that he was starting to be grateful for that insistence.

The hotel main entrance was wide open, the automatic door stuck in that position for the lack of power. The vegetation had invaded the hall, vines curling around the columns and the railings of the stairs that led to the other floors. Yet, even with the withered leaves covering the floors, the cracks in the walls and the general disarray, it was still easy to picture how the place had to have looked like when it was still open.

"W-Wow," Morty let out, eyes glued to the giant chandelier that was hanging from the ceiling. It was made of pieces of crystal of different sizes and shapes and each of them glowed with a different colour when hit by the light.

"T-Told you the place was fuckin' cool," Rick chimed in, sounding smug and pleased with himself. "H-How about you two little shits go find us two good rooms, w-while Rick and I get it running?"

{ @advnterccs }

That earned a frown on Morty's face. He couldn't help to feel like something was off. From it being abandoned to also being a prime spot for that certain Rick. It just gave him an uneasy feeling. One that the Ricks could possibly understand. And he some part of him was glad for it.

This was supposed to be their vacation. So he didn't need his grandfathers to be worried about anything of the sort.

His tensions flew away as soon as his counterpart said something. Reassuring him about it all and he could easily agree with it. Yeah, there wasn't anything to worry about. They were fine and were about to have fun.

"Y-Yeah, uh, you're right," He shook all of the doubt from his head, walking alongside his boyfriend while following the Ricks. "I-I don't know what I was thinking, I guess, y-you know, I-I'm a little paranoid,"

A blushed appeared on his cheeks. Oh, he could imagine what kind of alone time he and his boyfriend could have. Somewhere away from the Ricks. Where it was just the two of them. They could do whatever they wanted.

"O-Oh, y-yeah, uh, I think there's some places we can gaze up at the stars. J-Just the two of us. A-And," His throat became dry. "We could m-make out a-and stuff."

On the way towards the hotel, Rick clung to his boyfriend. Snuggled up on his side as they walked. One arm held onto that waist while his hand tucked underneath that lab coat to feel the bare skin of that chest. All while ideas swirled in his mind on what they could do. Alone together in such a huge galactic island.

"So," He began, tilting his head a bit forward so that he could whisper into that ear. "After we turn on the generators a-and get this place in working order, wh-what do you want to do first?"

A soft hum was let out as he dropped his gaze down to that chest. Admiring how it looked with just that lab coat on. So sexy, enticing. It made him want to ditch the Mortys and go somewhere else where they can have some more privacy.

"'Cause I-I have a few ideas and one of them involves a hot tub~"

@countlessrealities

[cassandraclare]

The Whispering Room: James’ POV

Here it is finally — James’ POV of the Whispering Room scene from Chain of Gold. I wanted to wait until Chain of Iron was released to give more people a chance to read the book, and also because what we learn in COI does inform the scene. I hope you enjoy!

*art by Cassandra Jean

Cortana wove with her words, underlining each one with steel. She turned as her sword turned, and her body curved and moved like water or fire, like a river under an infinity of stars. It was beautiful—she was beautiful, but it was not a distant beauty. It was a beauty that lived and breathed and reached out with its hands to crush James’s chest and make him breathless. — Chain of Gold

James had felt a strange emotion when Daisy first took the stage at the Hell Ruelle. It was a mix of several feelings...

worry on her behalf, annoyance at Kellington, curiosity, and admiration for her bravery and poise. It was unfair of these Bohemians to force her to caper for them, and, he thought, a bit insulting to Shadowhunters in general. He supposed that Matthew had given them a rather unusual view of what the Nephilim were like in such circumstances.

And then she had begun to dance. And suddenly she was not Daisy, his old friend. She was Cordelia, whose name meant heart, whose every gesture was fire. Every earthly worry he’d had had been swept out of his mind. He was conscious only of Cordelia, whirling back and forth across the small stage. Cortana danced around her, shedding light like embers. The dull glow of the lamps illuminated her body, describing her every movement, her every curve as she danced. Her scarlet hair whipped around her in time to the music, and the golden light of the lamps in the Ruelle slipped across her skin, slow and hot, like beads of honey. The cadences of her voice, rising and falling, seemed to weave a cage of silken thread about her audience, and James was no exception.

Later, James would think it was odd that he had not compared her to Grace. Grace had never entered his mind at all. Cordelia danced, and by the end of her performance, James’s entire life had been disassembled and put back together in a new and different shape. He was conscious of Matthew, beside him, also staring as the crowd cheered, his sharp cheekbones flushed. He looked dazed; James couldn’t blame him.

Cordelia descended the stage and slipped through the crowd to come back to them, blushing at the looks and murmured comments she was drawing from the audience now. James could see the desire in the eyes that followed her. Everyone wanted her. He felt a dull fury. They had no right. They did not know Cordelia. She was more than just that dance.

When she reached them she let out a long breath of relief and smiled. She glowed with the exercise of dancing. Sweat beaded along her collarbones, shimmered between her breasts. Her eyes were bright as Cortana’s blade, strapped to her back.

“Bloody hell,” Matthew exclaimed.  “What was that?”

A look of uncertainty crossed Cordelia’s face. James said, “It was a fairy tale, Math,” and Matthew nodded. His dark green eyes searched Cordelia’s face, as if looking for the key to a locked room he had only just discovered.

Cordelia looked uncertain. James couldn’t bear that. She’d been magnificent; she should know it. But he couldn’t say that, of course. It would only make her self-conscious.

“Well done, Cordelia,” James said instead; when he unfolded his arms; his wrist hurt and he wondered if he’d been clenching his hands.

Cordelia. He hadn’t called her Daisy, and she looked a little surprised. It seemed inappropriate, somehow. Daisy was Lucie’s friend, the Merry Thieves’ compatriot; he found it a smaller name than she deserved. Cordelia, though—she had been a queen, hadn’t she? Queen Cordelia, daughter of Leir, ruler of Britain before the Romans had ever landed on those shores. Like Boadicea, a legendary warrior queen. A blazing white fire behind fathomless black eyes.

“Anna has disappeared with Hypatia,” James said, noting the empty settee, “so I would call your distraction a success.”

Cordelia’s lips twitched into a smile. “How long does a seduction usually last?”

“Depends if you do it properly,” Matthew said, with a wink. James felt it as a spark of relief, a bit of lightness amid the feeling that something heavy was sitting on his chest.

“Well, I hope for Hypatia’s sake Anna does it properly,” James said. He registered, with the reflexes of a parabatai, that Matthew had gone still next to him, and wondered what was wrong. “Yet for our sake, I hope she hurries it up.”

All hint of Matthew’s jocular tone from before was gone. “Both of you,” he said urgently. “Listen.”

Did he mean all the muttering about Shadowhunters? Was he only noticing it now? It had followed them since they came into the place. But when James followed Matthew’s gaze, he found Kellington staring with an expression of vexation, not at them but at the door. All questions were answered as through the door came Charles Fairchild, looking around him with a haughty expression. He looked like was about to raid the place; so much for whatever work Matthew and Anna had done for Downworlder-Shadowhunter relations here.

Matthew narrowed his eyes. “Charles,” he sighed. “By the Angel, what is he doing here?”

Charles was, James thought, probably looking for them. He was making his way through the crowd and gazing around him. Luckily for them, the crowd was not interested in letting him through, and he was moving very slowly.

“We should go,” James said. “But we can’t leave Anna.”

In one way, at least, Charles’s arrival was helpful; it threw a bucket of cold water on the roiling heat that had gripped James’s heart since Cordelia had begun her dance. Back to the matter at hand: a demon, a Pyxis, a plan.

“You two run and hide yourselves,” Matthew said, still keeping his eyes on his brother. “Charles will go off his head if he sees you here.”

“But what about you?” said Cordelia.

Matthew shrugged, but James could see the tension in his jaw and his shoulders. “He’s used to this kind of thing from me. I’ll deal with Charles.”

Not for the first time, James wished that his parabatai wasn’t in such a hurry to sacrifice his own reputation. He exchanged a long look with Matthew, but Matthew was sure, and determined, and his desire to rush into his own humiliation was an issue that would have to wait. Nodding, he turned and caught Cordelia’s hand with his own. “This way,” he said, and she nodded back in acknowledgement. As he pulled them into the crowd he heard Matthew’s voice calling, “Charles!” in a hearty tone of pleasant, if entirely false, welcome.

James didn’t know his way around the place, and the crowd made orientating himself even more difficult, but after some trial and error he and Cordelia managed to get behind Kellington and slip into a corridor leading away. This wasn’t safe in itself, since from the main chamber one would have a clear view down the entire corridor. In fact, they were temporarily more exposed than before, and James’s hope for the hallway to take a quick turn or to contain large statuary to hide behind was quickly dashed. He continued to hold onto Cordelia’s hand, not that he needed to; she seemed to know her way better than he did.

Partway down the corridor, James caught sight of an open door — its silver plaque labeling it the entrance to THE WHISPERING ROOM. Swiftly he drew Cordelia inside, out of sight. He slammed the door behind them, causing a loud noise, but he thought it couldn’t possibly be heard over the crowd in the main chamber. Only then did he release Cordelia’s hand and take stock of their surroundings.

The room was dimly lit, but not cold: a scented fire burned in the grate, filling the space with the smell of sandalwood and roses. It was a study, he guessed, based on the gigantic walnut desk against the wall and the bookshelves opposite, but it was too richly decorated to be solely a place for studious contemplation. Phoenix feathers and dragon scales danced across the gilded wallpaper; there were no windows, but the walls were hung with patterned tapestries, the floor covered with a rug so thick James felt his boots sink into it as he moved further into the room.

Cordelia had leaned her back against the wall next to the door. Her eyes were closed and she was taking deep, full breaths, calming herself down. Cortana gleamed gold over her shoulder; the firelight gleamed a deeper gold on her skin, which seemed to take and hold its warmth. James curled his fingers in against his palm.

He wanted to touch her. He half-turned away, pretending to study the books on the wall. Any other time, he would have been fascinated by the titles. Now they seemed distant, neither immediate nor imporant. He could have sworn he heard his own heart hammering. He said, “Where did you learn to dance like that?” surprising himself with the roughness of his own voice.

His gaze snapped back to Cordelia as she opened her eyes and gave a little shrug. There was something magical about the dress she wore: it followed the shape of her own body rather than the shape of corsetry or whalebone petticoats. It slid softly against her skin as she moved, just as her dark red hair tickled the bare skin of her throat, her shoulders. “I had a dance instructor in Paris. My mother believed that learning to dance aided in learning grace in battle.”

The word grace pierced James like an icicle. He could not quite picture Grace at the moment, it was true; could not quite envision her face. He had given Grace his heart — that was an immutable fact, something he knew as he knew that two plus two equaled four. But he had to admit that at the moment his heart did not feel given. It felt like a thrumming machine inside his chest, pumping blood and heat.

“That dance,” Cordelia added with a quirk of her soft mouth that struck James like a blow to the stomach, “was forbidden to be taught to unmarried ladies. But my dance instructor did not care.”

“Well,” James said, keeping his voice steady with practiced control, “thank the Angel you were there. Matthew and I could certainly not have pulled off that dance on our own.”

Cordelia turned away from him, the smile still on her face, as though she were keeping it secret from him. She trailed her hand along the top of Hypatia’s desk. At one end was a stack of papers held down by a large copper bowl of fruit, and she brought her hand up to trace its rim.

James may have been distracted beyond the capacity for distraction he’d known before, but he was still a Shadowhunter. “Be careful,” he said warningly. “I suspect that is faerie fruit. It has no effect on warlocks—no magical effect, at least. But on humans…”

Cordelia pulled her hand back as though stung. “Surely it does not harm you if you do not eat it.”

“Oh, it does not. But I have met those who have tasted it. The say the more you have of it, the more you want, and the more you ache when you can…have no more.”

Cordelia was looking at him now, and though it took a great summoning of courage, he returned her gaze. In her dark eyes the silver and blue flames of the fireplace danced. James could not catch his breath. He had never felt this before, this breathlessness. It was like pain, but with a sweet, sharp edge. Like licking honey from a knife. He said, in a low voice, “And yet. I have always thought…is not knowing what it tastes like just another form of torture? The torture of wondering?”

The door shook on his hinges suddenly, making a clatter that made both he and Cordelia jerk their heads around to look at it. The knob was starting to turn.

Cordelia paled. “We’re not meant to be in here —“

James’s world closed down to just this: Cordelia was here, she was with him, and she looked frightened. He would do anything to stop that look on her face. He caught her in his arms, and the relief was incredible — he had not realized how much he wanted to be touching her until he was. Until he was holding her, and her strength and warmth and softness were all pressed against him, and her face was so beautiful it hurt, and her lips were parted in surprise and without another thought he kissed them.

He could feel her sharp intake of breath with his hands, clasped together at her lower back. She gasped, but did not draw back, or away — he thought he would have died if she had — she leaned into him, her full lips opening under his. She was kissing him back. He tasted honey, smelled jasmine and smoke. His hand slid up her warm cheek and into the soft fall of her hair.

Time stopped.

Cordelia’s arms were around his neck. Her lush mouth opened a little against his, and the kiss deepened. He moved his hand to the back of her neck to bring her closer. Her teeth grazed his lower lip, and he couldn’t help it; he moaned, and felt her tremble against him.

Very far away, a voice chuckled and the door closed with a soft click. This whole thing had been intended as a ruse, he knew, for the benefit of whomever was trying to get into the Whispering Room. Probably some Ruelle attendees, Downworlders most likely, who had snuck off for a rendez-vous.

Ruse accomplished, then. With intense regret, James drew back from Cordelia. Her hand, warm and soft and wonderful, was against his neck; her fingers stroked his pale white scar. Her eyes were fixed at the level of his shoulder. He could hear himself say her name — Daisy, my Daisy — instead of responding, she whispered, “I think more people are coming.”

He knew it wasn’t true. He didn’t care. He knew what she was saying: that she was asking and giving permission at once. All James’ life, he had struggled for control: control over his sudden falls into shadow, control over the dark world he could see, that was invisible to everyone else. He had worked and fought and trained for control every day, and for the first time in as long as he could remember it deserted him.

The walls he had put up burned to the ground in an instant as he caught Cordelia to him. He groaned against her mouth, his hands slipping over the silk of her dress, the hot satin of her skin. He undid the strap that held Cortana, got rid of it somehow — carefully, he hoped — and let himself fall back into delirium.

He did not ask himself why he had never felt desire like this before. He could not. He was lost in the feel of her, the incline of her waist, the flare of her hips, the rise and fall of her chest as she gasped. They were kissing wildly, uncontrolled; they fetched up against the desk, Cordelia’s back to it.

Her body bent backward in an impossible arch, her hands going behind her to brace herself. Her eyes half-closed, her head fell back, revealing the bare column of her throat. He pressed his lips there, eliciting a gasp of surprised pleasure.

His hands trailed up the sleek material of her dress — he could feel the heat of her skin through it — from her waist to the neckline of her gown. His palms followed her curves until the tips of his fingers were pressing into the bare bronze skin just above the neckline of her dress. She was sleek and soft and hot all at the same time, like nothing else he’d ever touched. He heard her whimper; she was saying his name, and his heart beat in time with her words: James, James, Jamie please.

The please undid him; shrugging off his frock coat, he caught hold of her around the waist, lifting her until she was perched on the edge of the desk. The material of her dress bunched around her knees, her thighs, as she took hold of his shirt by the starched front and kissed him. His mouth drove against hers, hot and demanding, even as he clambered onto the desk after her. She reached up her arms for him and he sank down on top of her, bracing his weight with a hand above her head.

He paused, just for a moment, looking down at her. Her scarlet hair fanned out across the desk, her eyes glazed, her full lips red from kissing. He was cradled by her body, her legs on either side of his hips, her skirt rucked up nearly to her waist. She wrapped her long, bare legs around him and he shuddered. What was in him, what he wanted, was inchoate but insistant, a force he’d never known. A yearning like hot wires in his blood, the pain-pleasurable ache of unbearable wanting that drove him to kiss her again, kiss her harder. She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling at it as he kissed her breasts, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin until she gave a low scream and clutched at him with desperate hands.

He sank down against her and kissed her, hot and deep and hard. She arched into the kiss, her breath coming in gasps. He felt her through the thinner material of his shirt: the heat of her, the swell of her breasts against his chest, her hands smoothing over his chest, his sides.

His hands aching to touch her in kind, to find out what she liked, what made her gasp, and do it again and again . . . Nothing had ever felt like this, nothing. He’d known desire before; so he remembered, so he had believed. It turned out he had stepped into a puddle and thought it was the sea. As Cordelia moved in his arms, as her lips, he realized there was a depth to desire he hadn’t even guessed at: that it was more than just desperation, but joy and need and wanting and being wanted back. It was a fever dream, his hands sliding up under the heavy satin of her skirts, the salt-sweet taste of her skin, the soft sounds of her pleasure as she urged him closer, urged him onward, the desk seeming to spin beneath them.

He heard, as if at a great distance, the sound of the door opening. He lifted his head, saw the slim fair-hared figure in the doorway. Ice washed through his veins. Cordelia stiffened, began to scramble to sit up. No, he thought, but he couldn’t stop her, couldn’t blame her. It — whatever it had been — was over.

He slid off the desk. Already the fever was vanishing, that feeling —the glorious freedom from the burden of his own will — receding. Grasping at his control, he drew it around himself,  reaching for his coat, turning to calmly meet the gaze of his parabatai.

“James?” Matthew said.

[thewankbankuk]

BRUCE AND CHRIS

TAKE A HIKE

Bruce anxiously hopped out of the car.  He had just arrived at the national park with his best friend Chris and this was the day he would propose to him.

They met on the swim team in high school and quickly became good friends. They seemed to be together for every major event in each other’s lives since then. They won swim competitions together, went to the same college, and Chris was even there when Bruce’s mother passed away.

They dated for a bit in college, but after they graduated life seemed bent on keeping them apart.  They both got jobs in other cities and began to drift away. They would catch up every now and then by phone or skype, but it was never like old times. But Bruce was so excited when he got promoted and was transferred to the same city as Chris.

This hike meant so much to Bruce. It was a chance to not only celebrate his promotion, but it was also a way to really reconnect with Chris, without any outside interference. A chance to express his thoughts, emotions, and dreams for the future.

The plan was they would reach the mountain top right before sunset. Bruce would, of course, get down on one knee and confess his deep love to Chris. After Chris said yes, they would set up a site and spend a beautiful night under the stars.

Everything was going according to plan.  They had been hiking for 2 hours and would soon be at the peak. But then the strangest thing happened.  A man dressed head to toe in rubber stepped out of the woods in front of them. The man had a loose-fitting black rubber body suit on with rubber boots, rubber gloves, and a gasmask. The rubber man didn’t say anything to them, but they could hear the slow deep breaths coming from the gasmask.

Bruce and Chris looked at each other confused. The rubberman then reach out an arm and offered them a gasmask. Bruce and Chris didn’t say anything and began to turn around in hopes of avoiding any further interactions with the rubberman. As they did turn around though they noticed even more rubber men standing behind them.  As Bruce’s relief to finally be alone with Chris, quickly became anxiety that they were all alone in the woods with these crazy rubbermen. What were these men doing out here and what did they want with Bruce and Chris?

Both Bruce and Chris were very strong muscular young men, but there were too many of the rubbermen for them to overpower. The rubbermen were beginning to close in on them fast. So, Bruce and Chris began to run.

Pushing rubbermen out of their way they ran off of the path and into the woods. Bruce was so focused on running away from the rubbermen that he didn’t notice Chris had tripped over a tree root and fell. Giving just enough time for the rubbermen to swarm around Chris.

Chris yelled and Bruce turned around, but at this point Bruce was too far ahead to help Chris. But Bruce could see the rubbermen hold down Chris and force the gasmask over his head. The gasmask seemed to suction itself to Chris’s head, subduing the young man enough for the rubbermen to control him without much force.

The other rubbermen stopped trying to peruse Bruce and turned around and walked towards Chris. They formed a large circle around Chris and they began to breath heavily through their gasmask in unison.

Chris grabbed at the gasmask on his face trying to take it off. But the longer the gasmask was on the more relaxed Chris became. He then gave up trying to remove the mask and instead unhooked his backpack, letting it fall to the ground. He then pulled out his phone and took off his smartwatch. He placed them on the ground and began to violently smash each device with his boots until each was inoperable. Then Chris stood up straight and let his arms fall to his side, breathing in heavily through his gasmask in unison with the other rubbermen.

The rubbermen broke the circle and Chris began walking naked and robotically into the woods as if he knew where he was going. The other rubbermen began forming a line behind Chris and they all marched in unison.

Bruce watch, from a far, in horror and disbelief.  He envisioned his dream of being with Chris.  A dream that he could not let go of.  

He thought out loud, “What the hell is going on?“

” What the fuck have they done to Chris?“

He didn’t know what to do. They were so far from any kind of help. If Bruce left to get help, he may never see Chris again.

So, Bruce began to follow the men into the woods. If Bruce could just get to Chris and pull the gasmask off his face, they could bolt and hopefully lose the rubbermen.

The rubbermen continued to follow Chris into the woods until they reach an abandoned military complex. Out front of the complex were a few men not in rubber but military uniforms and gasmask. They saluted and watched the rubbermen and Chris walk into the complex. They then stood out front of the complex with rifles guarding the entrance.

It was dark outside and Bruce knew he wouldn’t be able to go through the front, so he began to walk around the complex looking for an alternate way inside. He walked up to a side door to see if it was open. When all of a sudden two military drones emerged from the door, grabbing Bruce and pulling him inside.

Once inside, Bruce quickly looked around trying to orient himself. It was a large dark concrete room with no windows. There were hundreds of crates, against the walls, stacked on each other. There was a single light, hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room, where the drones brought Bruce.

Bruce fought and struggled but it was no use. The drones overpowered Bruce and forced him to his knees. Pushing down firmly on his shoulder to hold him in place.

Bruce yelled out “Where’s Chris?��

“Why are you doing this to us?”

But the drones didn’t respond. Then Bruce heard footsteps and deep breathing in front of him. The drones let go of Bruce and he looked up in fear.

But it was just Chris, standing rigidly, completely naked over Bruce. Chris’s muscular body glistening with sweat. Bruce thought that Chris looked really hot. As the sound, the sounds of slow heavy breathing pulsating from the gasmask still over his head made Bruce a bit excited.

Bruce popped up and hugged Chris.

“Chris, I was so worried. Are you OK?” Bruce said, But Chris simply kept staring straight ahead as if he was looking past Bruce. Chris began breathing even heavier through the gasmask. Bruce tried to look into Chris’s eyes but was unable to see them through the dark lenses of the gasmask.  

Chris mindlessly pointed at one of the drones.  The drone put down its gun and walked over to one of the crates, opening it. The crates were full of gasmask and the drone grabbed one and walked over to Bruce, offering it to him. Bruce knocked it out of the drone’s hand and it fell to the floor. Bruce then reached up and tried to pull the gasmask from Chris’s face, but it was no use. The mask was suctioned too firmly.  It seemed to be fused to Chris now.  

Then one of the doors, to the room, swung open and hundreds of the rubbermen flooded into the room. Creating a circle of rubber around Chris and Bruce.  It was clear there was no escaping.  

Bruce began tearing up as the feelings of dread and despair grew inside him. He shook Chris as if trying to wake him from a dream.

But Chris was no longer there Bruce realized. Chris was just a mindless drone like the rest of them.

However, just as Bruce thought all hope was gone, Chris turned his head to Bruce. The lenses of the gasmask glowed as they looked directly into Bruce’s eyes. Chris then began to gently caress Bruce’s face. Bruce leaned into Chris’s hand and began to profess his feelings for Chris. He told Chris that he had always loved him, that life kept getting in the way of that love, and that he wanted to marry Chris so that they would be together forever.  Bruce shared how he had planned to propose on the mountain top as the sunset.  

In a deep robotic monotone voice, Chris responded to Bruce.

“Put on the gasmask Bruce”. Chris continued, “Everything will be better. No need to think. No need to worry, just mindless obedient bliss”.

Chris briefly paused, “We can be together forever. Isn’t that what you really wanted Bruce?”

Bruce began to cry even more, unsure of what to do, falling to Chris’s feet.

“Pick up the gasmask Bruce and put it on” Chris said. “It’s our only way Bruce!”

“Do it for me Bruce, because you love me. Show me how much you appreciate me, and how much you want to be with me”.

Bruce picked up the mask and looked up at Chris. He wanted to please Chris so badly and show Chris how much he loved him. He knew he would be trap into the collective and this would be his new life from now on.  It was his only way he could be with Chris.

“JUST FOR YOU BABY!”   Bruce replied as he slowly slides the gasmask over his head and took his first deep breath. The mask immediately suctioned itself to his head beginning to fuse with his skin. The gas from the mask began to take affect and Bruce began to relax. He started to hear the voices and commands of the collective in his mind and Bruce felt numb and obedient.

Bruce wouldn’t mindlessly obey the orders of the collective, but most importantly he was overwhelmed with joy when he realized he would from now on be perpetually connected to Chris. He could hear Chris’s thought and share the same mindless bliss. They were finally a unit and nothing would separate them ever again.

Bruce stood up letting his arms fall to his side as the gasmask took over complete control of his mind. Knowing this was where he was supposed to be.  A couple drones brought over rubber suits. Bruce and Chris eagerly dawned the rest of their rubber body suits happily joining the collective knowing they would be together forever.  

[canesshi]

the bounty | western au

pairing: outlaw!Jungkook x bountyhunter!reader (f)

genre: angst, smut, enemies to ???

plot: There's a fivethousand dollar bounty on Jeon Jungkook's head and you are after it. A few unplanned events lead to the two of you trapped in a canyon and you learn that maybe, after all, he isn't as bad as he seems.

warnings: swearing, guns, blood, fighting, alcohol, SMUT, unprotected sex (because this is fiction! be safe irl), grinding, passionate sex, handjob, creampie, mentioned sexism, lmk if there is more

Standing in front of the wooden board, you ripped the piece of paper off the rusty nail that had been used to attach it to the wood. 'Wanted - dead or alive' it said in red stamped letters, the text framing the sketch of Jeon Jungkook's face.

"You finally wanna try again?"

Your gaze shot up to Jin, the sheriff, who leaned against the wooden wall of his sheriff's office. The golden star on his chest was as shiny as it could be; he cleaned it regularly, it was never dirty.

"They put a new price on his head, after all. Might as well try again. Fivethousand dollars are enough to retire.", you chuckled and looked back to the paper in your hands.

Jeon Jungkook.

The name was not unfamiliar. His face was plastered on every wall even in small towns, the law desperate to finally catch him. He was one of America's most wanted outlaws and since he had left his former gang he raged through the country like a hurricane; stealing, drinking, fighting, shooting, cheating, murdering, robbing. He had steadily increased the price on his head with every crime he commited and every bounty hunter had at one point been after him. The money was promising and experienced bounty hunters tended to underestimate his skills because of his age. He was fairly young for being such a successful outlaw, all on his own. Along with a few other criminals he was considered a 'legendary bounty'. Bounty hunters who could turn in such a bounty were well respected and feared amongst their peers, and the reward money was a nice addition. But Jeon Jungkook outsmarted and outshot all of them. Most of the hunters were dead or had given up.

You were after him once, too. It was when he was still with his old gang. They had been in a gang fight with another gang and were vunerable, the timing was perfect. But as you almost had him, he slipped through your fingers, jumping off the bridge and landing in the shallow waters. You had thought he had died but never found his corpse, only to read in a newspaper a few days later that he and his gang had robbed a stagecoach near a big city. Since then, his bounty had more than tripled. And if you were being honest, you were quite impressed. But now that you had had time to prepare and train, you were convinced you had a chance at catching him. Maybe you were being too optimistic and too full of yourself, but how would you ever find out if you didn't try?

"Are you sure it's a good idea? He does not hesitate to kill bounty hunters and he surely learned a few new things too. That kid is too skilled for his own good.", Jin wore a worried expression. The two of you had become something similar to friends over the past months since you usually collected the bounties in this tiny town because there was less competition this far away from the big city. "At least catch all the easier targets first so you are not leaving us behind with a bunch of criminals roaming the streets."

"Jin, you're the sheriff. You can handle an outlaw or two."

"But you do it so well. Also, who would we spend the tax money on? If there was no bounty money to pay, we would surely be rich in a few months, we can't have that!", he joked, fake worry in his voice. Then, he got serious again, stepping closer to you, taking the poster from your hands and inspecting it. "Be careful. I mean it. He is dangerous and I would feel lonely here without you bringing trouble into this small town."

"I'll be back, don't worry.", you nodded at him, smiling reassuringly but he didn't seem convinced.

"When will you leave? Where is he right now?"

"I'll pack my things and be off. There has been news he was sighted near Blackwater last. I'll be starting my search there.", you untied your horse from the post, stuffing the poster Jin had given you back into your bag. You mounted the animal, tipped your hat to Jin who smiled at you worriedly but nodded back and urged the animal under you forwards.

The ride to Blackwater had taken one and a half days. You had made camp outside of Armadillo to rest before you began your hunt. You needed all the energy you could possibly get, so a good night's rest was indispencable.

You woke up early, the sun had barely risen above the horizon. The weak sun warmed your chilled skin as you kicked dirt into the still glowing embers of your dying campfire. The air was fresh and you felt confident; you'd find him today and he wouldn't glide through your fingers again.

Spurring your horse on, you watched as the city in the distance grew closer with each stride your horse took. You slowed the animal down once you reached the cobbled street, looking into the dark alleyways, suspicious looking individuals meeting your gaze and snarling. They recognized bounty hunters when they saw them. But you were not here because of them. No, you were after someone way more valuable.

Stopping next to the sheriffs office, you tied your horse to the post outside and stepped into the office, your spurs clinking with every step. You halted in front of the main desk, the sheriff and his deputy looking you up and down.

"I'm after Jeon Jungkook.", you said, slapping his bounty poster onto the table. "I was told he was seen here recently, any idea where he was headed?"

The sheriff and deputy sent each other a look before the older gentleman breathed in deeply. "It is true. He was here recently, caused a bar fight and left once everyone was fighting, then, robbed the general store while everyone was occupied. Shot a few fellars on his way out of town." The sheriff took the paper, looked at Jungkook's picture before scoffing and letting the piece of paper fall back onto the table. "No offence, but you won't be able to turn him in. The best bounty hunters have been after him and ended up dying or giving up. I don't mean any harm when I say this but... maybe you bit off more than you can chew. He's not your everyday thief." You wanted to scoff and list all the outlaws you had turned in before but you knew better than to let yourself be agigated by his words.

"Whether or not I can handle him is my business. You want him caught or not? I just need all the information you got, the rest is not your problem.", you said calmy, one hand resting on your hip.

The sheriff hesitated for a bit before opening one of the drawers in the desk and pulling out a map. He flattened it out on the table and turned it so you could see well.

"We think he headed south into the canyons to lay low for a while. There have been no reports of him in other cities so he probably is still there. He might not be alone, we don't know for sure. Riding out there is a ticket straight to hell, ma'am."

You didn't wait for him to finish. You just tipped your head as a way of thanking him before turning your back and exiting the building. Not a minute longer was wasted in the town. You urged your horse to a gallop down the dusty road.

It was noon when you reached the canyons. The sun was beating down onto you and you were thankful for your hat that was providing enough shadow for your face to be safe from the scorching sunlight.

You stopped your horse on a ledge that hung over the valley of the canyons. Then in the distance you spotted a trail of smoke rising into the sky. A camp.

You shouldered your rifle before urging your horse on. The walls of the canyon were so high they were intimidating. The trails you rode through were narrow and once or twice your stirrup scraped against the dusty orange stone. You couldn't see much of the sky, so you weren't sure if you were even riding in the right direction.

You were as quiet as you possibly could, but each little clinking or thudding echoed through the canyon. You decided that it was best to leave your horse behind and continue on foot. It was quieter and you could escape more easily if you had to.

You dismounted on a wider spot, the stone walls further away from you and making you feel less claustophobic. You grabbed a few more bullets from your saddlebag along with your bag in case you needed water or were injured.

Patting your horse's neck one last time and hoping you would be able to return to it, you continued through the canyon, your steps still echoing but a lot quieter than your horse's hooves had been.

When you smelled burnt wood you stuck close to the stone walls, making sure to peek before charging the open area. You peeked into the camp but there was no sign of a human being. You carefully walked into the camp, watching as the fire was still burning. Someone had been here not too long ago. You looked around and noticed bags and a bedroll on the ground. Someone had definitely been here shortly before you, and they would probably be returning soon. You kneeled down to open one of the bags when suddenly a gunshot rang through the canyon, the bullet missing you by an inch.

You immediately sprung into action, ducking behind a wooden crate and firing a few shots into the direction the bullet had come from. It had been a revolver bullet so the attacker was close to you, had probably sneaked up behind you.

It was silent for a while before a bullet hit the crate, sending splinters flying. Shit, you needed a safer cover. But there was nothing here. The attacker was just waiting for you to move, you knew it. You needed a plan.

You pulled your waterskin from your bag and opened it up. If you could throw it into the fire, there would be enough steam for you to move to a safer position, right? You peeked around the crate and immideately a bullet hit the edge of the crate, close to your face.

Shit, if you moved your arm from the cover they would probably shoot it clean off. You were trapped and if your attacker decided he had waited long enough, he could just start blasting the crate to kill you. You looked through your bag only finding a few things that didn't help you out now. Unless...

You fished for the red neckerchief and threw it next to the crate, careful to not reveal your hands or arms. Instantly a few shots were fired, hitting the neckerchief until it was in shreds. That's when you heard the familiar click of a gun being reloaded. You didn't waste a second and threw the waterskin into the flames, successfully creating thick puffs of steam that blocked your attacker's view.

You quickly moved into a crevice in the stonewall, barely wide enough to fit your body but at least safer than the wooden crate. Bullets were fired at you, but you had been faster, and they had no clear view. Once the steam disappeared, you watched carefully. The attacker didn't know where you were, and you watched as the broad figure move from behind the canyon wall to a boulder a little closer to you. You acted instantly, shooting a few bullets with your revolver, even though your heart skipped a beat. You had only seen him shortly but you knew his figure.

You had found him. Jeon Jungkook.

You heard a low hiss so you must've gotten him somewhere. You wanted to squeal in victory when he propped himself up on the boulder and fired a few rounds of bullets. The stone wall held off each bullet but little pieces of stone splintered off the surface and created thick dust which stung in your eyes. But instead of cowering away you took the rifle from your back, aimed at the figures head and placed your hand on the trigger. He wasn't careful enough. You could kill him right then and there, but your ego got the better of you. If you'd bring him in alive, he would be worth a lot more and you wanted to see the look of defeat on his face when you bound his wrists and turned him into the sheriff's office as they placed him behind bars.

So instead of his head you aimed at his gun and pulled the trigger, successfully blasting it out of his hand. He ducked as soon as the shot was fired but he wasn't fast enough. It was silent after that, no shots from him as you waited for his next move.

"That's it. You've got me."

You perked up at his smooth voice. He sounded like he was amused.

"You can kill me.", he said, slowly raising from behind the boulder. His hands were in the air to show you he was unarmed.

"But you'd miss out on a lot of money. They want to see me hang, they'd pay a lot to see that. If I'm dead though... there won't be much of a hanging going on. They will be disappointed. Less money."

"You think I'm stupid enough to fall for your trap, Jeon?", you hissed, rifle trained on his head, ready to shoot if you needed to. You moved away from your cover slowly, showing him you had the upper hand now.

"Well, seeing how you only shot my gun and not my head, I assume you are either a terrible, terrible shot or you are after a great deal of money.", he wore a smug smile on his face but you didn't miss the droplets of sweat dripping down the side of his forehead. That's when you saw the trail of blood on his side. That's where you had gotten him earlier, you thought to yourself.

"But since I know you can shoot well, I know it's the latter. Last time we met, you almost had me, and now you finally finished what you started."

You felt uneasy. He remembered you? How in the hell, would he remember you when he had to deal with countless of bounty hunters almost every day? What made you special enough for him to remember?

Maybe this was a trick, you thought. He was riling you up on purpose.

You had only been distracted for half a second when suddenly you were hit in the head by a hard item. You stumbled back, the rifle falling from your hands as you clutches your now bleeding forehead.

That fucker had thrown his gun!

He charged at you while you were occupied and pressed you to the ground beneath him. He pulled a knife out of his boot and moved to plunge it into your chest but you kneed him into his back, making him topple over you so you could roll out beneath him, an elbow to his back. He grunted as he spun around, slicing the knife through the air, missing your arm by an inch.

"You have gotten better.", he snickered through gritted teeth.

"So have you.", you answered, grabbing a hand full of dust and throwing it into his face. He clawed at his eyes as you finally distanced yourself from him again. You grabbed your revolver from your gunbelt and pointed it at him, ready to shoot when he suddenly pulled on the neckerchief you were standing on, making you topple over as your feet lost their footing. Before he could reach you though, you were back on your feet, your gun nowhere to be found. Shit.

A cut into your arm made you cry out sharply. The cut wasn't too deep but it began bleeding quickly. "You son of a bitch!"

You grabbed his wrist before he could bring down the blade again. Your nails dug into his dirtied skin, making him grit his teeth. He was stronger than you, but you took advantage of the situation when you kneed him into the stomach. He huffed loudly and the knife fell from his hand. You caught it and chucked it far away. "You have a lot of nerves coming here!", he sneered and grabbed your neck, pushing you down. You moved your head quickly, biting down on his bleeding hand, tasting the iron on your tongue.

That's when you decided to take off. If you made it to your horse in time, you could get another gun or flee. But you were so disoriented, you didn't know which way you had come from. Jungkook recovered behind you, so you decided to just run, no matter what direction.

You ran as fast as you could but your could hear his fast footsteps behind you, catching up with you.

You scrambled up a canyon wall that had been carved into a stair-like formation by the waters a few million years ago. Jungkook followed you without a problem. His stamina was way better than yours.

Once you were on top of the stone platform and you could overlook the maze like crevices, Jungkook caught up to you.

The two of you were standing in front of each other. Chests heaving.

"This ends here. One of us is going to die. And if I think about it, It might as well be you."

He lurched forward grabbing your body and pressing you into the ground. He raised a fist, wanting to knock you out but you moved your head to the side, his fist meeting the stone beneath you. You tried pushing him off of you and ended up changing positions with him, straddling him, before he tried pushing you down again.

But as he grabbed your hips, pushing you off of his stomach, your back didn't meet the hard ground. It was met with breezy nothingness as your body slipped off the edge. His body was inevitable pulled down with yours, your hands clamped down on his shirt. Your mouth was open in a scream as you fell but no noises came out.

It felt like you were falling for hours, hands still clinging onto Jungkook's larger frame.

Hitting the ground was painless and everything went black not even a second later.

Your eyes peeled open slowly. There was dust, dried blood, sweat and tears. You could barely see.

Your nose was running and you didn't kow if it was tears or blood.

How in god's name were you alive? Were you even alive?

You carefully moved your arms under you, pushing yourself up from the ground. Your head was throbbing painfully and little stones dug into your palms as you looked around.

Jungkook's body laid a few feet away, head slumped against his chest as he sat up against the canyon wall. He had probably woken up and moved to sit up against it before falling unconscious again.

You groaned as you pushed yourself to your feet, moving over to his body. You gently pushed against his legs with your boot, trying to wake him... or check if he was still alive. He looked horrible. Clothes ragged and dusty all over. His once jet black hair was matted and coated with brownish dust. You probably didn't look any better.

You kicked him again, a little harsher this time and a low groan escaped his throat as he lifted his head slightly. He struggled to open his eyes, the sun blinding him as he looked up at you.

"I was hoping you had died.", he rasped.

"Well, it seems like we're both still alive."

"Not for much longer.", he scoffed bitterly. That's when you took in your surroundings for the first time. The two of you were trapped inside a crevice in the canyon, barely wide enough for a whole body to lay flat, it was a few metres long in length. The more devastating part was that there was no exit or way up. The two of you were trapped down here. "Shit.", you murmored.

"If you still want to kill me, do it now. At least I won't have to starve to death.", he said, gasping as he sat up straighter against the stone wall.

"No-... There has to be a way out. We could-... climb up?"

"And how are you going to do that? The stone is too smooth, there are no ledges to grip onto. And even if you did make it up a few metres, if you fell, you'd only injure yourself more."

"Oh, so you just want to give up and die?", you scoffed.

"Unless you have a realistic escape plan, then yes, that's the only thing left for us to do."

You felt your head throb again painfully. You should have listened to Jin. This had been a dumb idea. Anyone smarter than you would've just given up after escaping with your life last time but no- you just had to try it again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Ah- fuck-" Your gaze dropped to Jungkook whose face was scrunched up in pain as he moved slightly. A hand was pressed to his side where you had shot him earlier. You didn't know how bad the wound was but it couldn't have been too deep considering he was still alive and not bleeding out. "I can't believe you really got me. I was slacking."

How he felt the need to talk to you was beyond you. You were his enemy but still - he was talking to you like you were an old aquaintance. You wanted to feel hatred towards him but it seemed like every bit of anger had left you. There was no point in fighting anyway - you'd both die down here.

"Let me see.", you forced out, kneeling down next to the man and trying to move his hand away from the injury. He didn't stop you but he seemed taken aback, eyes glued to yours as you pulled the button up shirt from his pants, careful to not irritate the wound too much. Once you had clear view of the gash, you inspected it. The bullet had only grazed him but it still left a decent gash on his side, skin ripped with ragged edges. It would take some time to heal and would probably leave a nasty scar, but what did it matter anyway? Neither of you would be alive then. How much you wished for one of those new devices you had read about in the newspaper - a telephone? Was that what they were called?

You went to grab something from your bag but it was no longer laying against you hip. Had it ripped off while fighting Jungkook? You looked around and saw the brown bag lying a few metres away. Thank god! Your bag was your ticket for living at least a few days longer. Dried meat and a small emergency flask of water could grant you enough time to think about all the times you had fucked up in your life or what desicions led you to be trapped here. Great.

You stood up to grab it and Jungkook followed your figure with curious eyes. He looked younger now that you really took him in. A boyish gleam in his eyes, though matted because of the circumstances. He was definitely not ugly either. If he had chosen a different life, you might have even bedded him.

What nonsense. You couldn't change a thing about the past and that was that. Thinking of all the possibilities if things had been different was wasted time.

You returned to Jungkooks side, fishing for a herb from the inside of your bag. You stuck it in your mouth, chewing it up into a paste before spitting it onto your fingers. "I know I'll die anyway but I'd appreciate it if you didn't give me an infection."

You just rolled your eyes as you applied the paste to the wound making him hiss slightly. You needed something to bandage the wound with but your neckerchief had been left behind at Jungkook's camp and was ripped apart anyway. You noticed that he was wearing one around his neck and went to untie it, hands combing through his slightly long black hair to get the knot loose. You didn't realize how close you were to him until you felt his warm breath on your own face. His eyes were locked to yours as he searched for something in them. Your brows furrowed and you quickly pulled back, unfolding the neckerchief and roling it into a bandage to tie around his waist. The fabric was barely long enough to actually be tied together but you managed, even though you must have hurt hime quite a bit in the process.

"Didn't take you to be such a whiny boy.", you said jokingly.

He didn't answer, only inspecting the bandage around his middle. You opened up the waterskin and poured it over his face earning a displeased grunt from Jungkook. You wiped the dirt, grime and blood from his face with your hands. "I could have done that myself, you know?" You poured a little water into your hands, cleaning your own face, being careful to only use as little water as possible.

"Why are you bandaging me up? Afraid you'll go to hell if you don't start doing nice things now?", he asked after some time, hairs falling into his eyes as he rested his head against the stone wall behind him. You had decided to sit opposite of him, sitting cross legged.

The truth was, you didn't even know the answer to his question. Why did you treat his wound? It was pointless anyway.

"Well, I guess in the face of death, people start to act strangely.", you answered, head turned away from him. Jungkook chuckled and licked his dry lips, throat feeling uncomfortably dry too.

"A shame that it has to end like this.", he then said,"I was wishing to escape you one more time. Bruising your ego a bit, you know?" He was laughing to himself, swallowing the bit of saliva his body could muster up.

"It looked more like you were trying to get me to meet my maker.", you answered, looking over to him, your lips curved slightly upwards now.

"You were better than I anticipated and I was taken aback. Didn't want to die, to be honest. You left me no choice."

You scoffed, the smile now wiped off your face. "Yeah right. You had the choice to not be a fucking outlaw in the first place!"

"Did I really?", he spat sourly.

You went silent then, watching as his brows furrowed.

"I had noone when I was younger. Should I have moped around the streets looking through the trashcans for food like the other street kids?" You knew who Jungkook was talking about. Homeless children were no rare scene, especially in big cities like Saint Denise. There was no furture for them outside of crime and gangs.

"When Namjoon found me, I was at the brink of starvation. He took me in and taught me everything I know about guns, horses and money. I truly did not have a choice if I wanted to survive."

He swallowed thickly before continuing.

"Besides, Namjoon always taught me how fucked up this so called society is. We just wanted to be free, to not be bound by laws and power-hungry people. Can you really blame us for that? Politicians and lawmen are not any different from us outlaws, they just have a badge that excuses every crime they commit against minorities."

"That's no excuse for the things you did. I am not here to try to make you regret your past but killing innocent folk is not any better than they are."

"We never intended to kill innocent people. I won't lie and say I have never killed anyone innocent but that was never our goal. We were just after the rich and powerful men. It doesn't matter now anyway. I left the gang a long while ago."

You didn't say anything after that, head resting back against the warm stone and watching as the sky slowly turned different shades of orange, red and pink.

You rumaged through your bag before feeling the cool glass against your fingers and pulling the whiskey bottle out. Jungkook looked amused as you took a big swig, handing it to him afterwards. He took the bottle gratefully and took a few big swigs, face scrunching up in distaste but continuing to down the liquid. When the bottle left his lips they were coated in the smooth liquid, glistening in the golden sunlight. He looked pretty. And that wasn't the booze talking... not yet at least.

"What about you? You had to listen to me whining about my shitty childhood, and now I'll listen to your tragic story."

"What makes you think I had a tragic childhood?", you teased, taking the whiskey from him and nipping at the bottle.

"Oh, please!", he huffed, "You are a bounty hunter and you want to tell me that you had a nice childhood? I have heard way better lies than that." You laughed at that, passing the bottle back to him.

"Well, my story is not as dark and dramatic as yours. I just wanted to catch bad guys and get decent money for it. They don't allow women to join the lawmen and even if they did, I guess we have one thing in common; I don't want to have anything to do with those people. I know their system is corrupt, only made to fit rich white men."

Jungkook seemed surprised. You were on different sides, you were supposed to represent the law and everything Jungkook hated but you were agreeing with him? He barely knew anyone that wasn't an outlaw or a beggar that thought like this.

He clutched the bottle tighter and nipped at it again, letting the liquid burn his throat. Maybe, just maybe, if things were different, if you two were to get out of here, you could start again? Get to know each other as people and not as enemies. It was foolish to think of anything in the future, seeing how you were doomed down here, but he wanted to know you. You were pretty, he wasn't blind. If the circumstances had been different he would have loved to bed you.

He shook his head, squeezing one hand into his pocket and pulling out a tiny photograph. You scooted closer until you were sitting next to him, taking the whiskey bottle that was almost empty now. It hadn't been full before, but still.

"This was the gang.", Jungkook explained, passing the photo to you. You looked at the faces, all smiling at the camera. You spotted Jungkook in the middle next to a tall man who had proudly swung an arm over his shoulder. If you didn't know any better you would have assumed that this was just a group of friends getting their picture taken. "That's namjoon, right?", you said and pointed to the tall male. Jungkook nodded, smiling widely. "And that's Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Hoseok and Soekjin." You laughed as you spotted Jin, a wide smile on his lips as he stood on the other side of Jungkook.

Wait a damn minute... wait. a. minute.

"Jin??", you gasped and Jungkook looked at you questioningly. "How is Jin in this picture? He- He's a good friend of mine and he's also a sheriff!"

"Oh, so that's where he went.", Jungkook mumbled to himself but you heard him loud and clear. You waited for him to explain.

"Jin was part of our gang but he mostly just tried to get the law off our back. He taught me a lot about who I am. Unfortunately, he left the gang one year before I did. Said he couldn't identify himself with the gang anymore... with what we had become. It's true, we were more ghosts than people by the end. I'm no saint - I know that - but I guess I never truly knew how much of a lowlife I was until Jin left. He was partly the reason I left a year later. How is he doing? How do you know him?"

"Well, I'd say he's pretty well. He is the sheriff after all, that gets you some decent money. I turned a lot of the targets in that he hung up on the bounty wall. We started chatting and then went out drinking sometimes."

"Oh, so you two are-...?", Jungkook gestured with his hands, trying to bring across his point without actually saying anything, hoping you got what he was trying to ask.

"No! God, no!", you laughed and Jungkook perked up at the pleasant sound. "Just friends. Collegues of sorts. But now it makes a lot of sense why he was trying to convince me to not go after you. He also took down your poster a few times. He always said it was because you were too damgerous and he wanted to protect reckless bounty hunters." You laughed. Imagining Jin in a gang of outlaws, hah! You would have to squeeze some details out of him!

Your face fell instantly. You couldn't. Because you wouldn't see him again. Maybe, just maybe Jin would come to look for you in a few days and find your rotting corpse in this hell hole. You chuckled bitterly to yourself.

"How much is it now?", Jungkook asked.

You took the bounty poster out of the bag and handed it to him. It was a little ragged now but still readable.

"Wow that's a new record. At least they didn't fuck up my face again with an ugly sketch." You smiled again as you watched him read his poster. "I'm sorry that you won't be getting the money now. But at least you managed to eliminate another bad guy. You'll surely be a hero then, right? People only idolize the dead. Like painters, you know? Maybe they'll write a campfire song about the bounty huntress that killed an outlaw by starving both herself and him to death in a canyon." You laughed and slapped his stomach lightly, already having forgotten about his wound. He hissed and moved away from the touch and you panicked. "Oh shit, I'm so sorry, I forgot!"

"It's fine.", he spoke through gritted teeth.

"Wait let me see if I disturbed the wound."

You pulled up his shirt, only now noticing the hard muscles that adorned his abdomen. You tried to lift the bandage but the shirt kept falling over your hands. "Take this shit, it's annoying!", you said impatiently. Instead of just holding the shirt up though, he pulled it off over his head, exposing his upper body. You didn't mean to stare but his body was carved by the gods themselves. You tore your gaze away from him and back to the wound. It seemed to be okay, no fresh blood or other substances leaking from it. "Okay, I think everything is fine."

"So you had me remove my shirt for your own entertainment, or-..."

You felt your cheeks getting warm as he teased you, holding your gaze.

"You-! You were the one to remove it! I told you to hold it up!"

"Well you did seem to enjoy it though."

You grabbed the shirt that was laying in his lap and threw it into his face, earning a low chuckle. He grabbed your arm and pulled you next to him again, taking the whiskey and downing the rest of it before turning his head to you. You looked up at his eyes, your own eyes flickering to his lips every so often. They looked plush and pink now, so kissable. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding your senses.

You went to turn away but Jungkook took your chin carefully, angling your face up so you had to look at him before placing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss.

You were surprised, shocked even, but you didn't pull away. His kiss was intoxicating and he tasted to good even though there was a hint of whiskey still on his lips.

He pulled back a few seconds later, looking for something in your eyes. "If your bounty hunter friends saw you right now what would they say?", he teased, voice barely a whisper.

"I think they would grant me one last nice thing before I die.", you whispered back, leaning back into Jungkook and capturing his lips in a more heated kiss. His tongue slid against your mouth and you opened it instantly, letting his greedy tongue explore your wet mouth. You moaned as Jungkook grabbed your hips, pulling you into his lap so he didn't have to crane his neck to the side. You fit into his lap like you belonged there, like you were meant to sit there at all times.

What on earth were you doing?

But did it matter? If you were to die soon, you'd at least be able to boast to the demons of hell that you had fucked Jeon Jungkook.

You ground yourself into his lap and he moaned, almost desperately, as your crotch prerssed against his growing hardness. You felt blood rush to your middle, throbbing in need, at the feeling of his hardening member. He pawed at your shirt, pulling it from your pants and pulling it off your body swiftly. His lips found your neck and colarbones in an instant and didn't miss the opportunity to mark you. He was sucking and biting your skin as you threw your head back, hands tangled into the long curly strands in the back of his head. You kept grinding into his crotch, wanting to hear him moan and hiss.

"Fuck-... If you keep going at it like that, I'll cum in my pants."

"We better get them off then.", you answered, feeling for the buttons and popping them open one after the other. You palmed his hardness through his pants before trying to slide them down further, which wasn't possible due to him sitting on the ground. Instead, Jungkook grabbed his shirt that was by his side, threw it on the ground behind you and gently lowered your back onto it, making sure to not hurt you. Once he was towering over you, you slid his pants down further along with his underwear, grabbing the throbbing and hot member. The skin was silky smooth and precum was already leaking from the red tip. You spat into your hand to make the glide easier and started stroking him. Jungkook dropped his head to your shoulder, groaning as you jerked him off with your soft hands. It had been some time since Jungkook had actually been with someone, so he was trying his hardest to not cum right then and there.

He occupied himself with releasing your breasts from your breastband, simply ripping it open, not patient enough to unravel it slowly. His mouth found your breasts as he kissed them all over, tongue flicking the hardened nubs. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter as he kissed and licked your body. God, he probably didn't even know what he was doing to you. Oblivious to the mess that coated the inside of your underwear.

You let go of his hardness as he kissed lower and lower, reaching your pants and unbottoning them slowly. He kissed each newly revealed part of skin before pulling off your boots and then the rest of your pants along with your underwear.

"Fuck. I have barely started and you are already soaking wet.", he groaned, lips exploring your hips and thighs. He was growing impatient, you could sense the urgeness in his kisses and touches.

His hands glided up your body again, reaching your breasts and squeezing them gently. He places open mouthed kisses against your mouth, licking into it hungrily. His wet, hot length was pressed against you as he settled in between your legs. "Fuck, you are so pretty, wanted to fuck you since last time you tried to catch me." You groaned at his confession. So he truly did remember you from last time you were trying to kill him.

"Wondered what you'd look like beneath me instead of behind a gun. Screaming my name in esctasy and not anger."

He kissed you gently before grabbing his length and running the silky head through your wet folds, passing by your clit and making you clench around nothingness. "Wanna make you cum. Cry out my name and cling to my body."

You moaned at his dirty words, feeling his head press into your entrance. "You want it?", he asked, kissing your lips and biting the lower one. "Fuck yes, Jungkook. Fuck me, please!"

He didn't waste any longer and burried himself into you deeply. Both of you groaned as he pushed into you until you couldn't take more of him. He was balls deep in you, your walls pulsing around him as he moved slightly. He gave you time to adjust to his size before starting a rythm that felt right for him. You locked your legs behind his hips, pushing him deeper into you with weath thrust. He was setting your body on fire, his length hitting all the right spots inside you.

You moaned and pulled his face into the crook of your neck, holding him so close you didn't know where his body ended and yours began. You could feel tiny stones digging into your back through the shirt he had laid down but you couldn't care less. He was panting next to your ear, skin burning up against you as he fastened his rythm. "Oh fuck- fuck. You feel so good around me. Such a tight little cunt-" You couldn't even respond because you were lost in the feeling of him pushing against your cervix with every thrust. It made you feel so full of him.

He hoisted his body onto his forearm, muscles flexing and giving you a nice view. He took two fingers and brought them to your mouth, making you suck on them. When he was satisfied with your work, he pulled them out, snaking the two digits between your bodies and finally findiny your clit. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan when he drew circles onto the sensitive nub. You clenched around him tightly and he grunted in response. With his fingers working away at your clit, you were barreling towards your orgasm. You wanted to tell him how good he made you feel, how the drag of his cock set your walls on fire and how you were close, so fucking close. But instead only breathy moans left your throat, gripping at his body tightly, as if you were afraid to slip over the edge because you knew it would be overwhelming.

"You- shit, you keep getting tighter. I'm not gonna last long with this tight cunt.", he announced, his rhythm faltering.

"Jungkook- fuck, I'm gonna-", you were silenced as you tipped over the edge, the pleasure almost too much for you to handle. You clenched hard around him, making it almost impossible for Jungkook to keep fucking into you. But he only needed two more thrusts before he was following you into his own high. A throaty groan left him, as he pressed himself into you as far as he could, pulling out only a bit before slamming back in, his release filling you up.

The both of you slowly calmed down, panting heavily against each other's mouths. He kissed you passionatley, moving to your jawline and down your throat. When he pulled back and looked at you, you gently moved the dark strands of sweaty hair out of his face. His eyes were locked with yours and you couldn't help but feel the warmth in your stomach as he looked down at you so lovingly. He proceeded to pull out, his release leaking out of you.

You helped each other dress. No word was spoken, but it wasn't awkward. Both of you still feeling the afterglow of an amazing orgasm.

That's when you head the sounds of hooves on hard stone. Jungkook quickly pulled your body to his, shielding you from the figure that leaned over the edge and peered down at the two of you.

"What in the world-... at least you're alive, I guess."

"Soekjin!?"

Jin had managed to pull Jungkook and you out with the lasso he had brought. The rough rope left slight burns on your skin but you figured it was better than starving to death down there.

While you were reliefed to see your friend, you were also confused as to how he had found you or why he was here in the first place.

"I wanted to help you catch he criminal!", Jin quickly said, grabbing onto Jungkook as if he hadn't casually been standing next to him the entire time. It made sense though. Jin didn't know that you knew of his history with the young outlaw.

"Jin drop the act. I wanna know why exactly you never told me that you were in a gang?!", you said, drinking from Jin's water bottle greedily. He choked on nothing and quickly turned to Jungkook who sheepishly grinned back at him. His ears turned six shades redder as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I- I thought it wouldn't bee such a good idea to tell a bounty hunter I was part of Jeon's gang. Who knows what you'd have done to me!", he joked. You scoffed.

"But seriously Hyung, what were you doing out here?", Jungkook piped up.

"Well both of my friends were gonna rip each other apart, couldn't let that happen right?", he laughed before suddenly frowning deeply. "Wait a minute... Wait a goddamn minute! Why the hell aren't the two of you ripping each other apart?"

"Believe me, we were, before we fell down into the ravine."

Jin eyed you suspiciously as he took note of your develished states... from all the fighting, of course!

He didn't question it any further.

The three of you proceed to get your horse that you had left behind as it was currently grazing peacefully. You were sat behind the saddle because Jungkook insisted on taking the reigns. Your arms were holding onto his tiny waist, feeling his muscles through his shirt. He was going to be the death of you. You were careful not to touch his injury, though it could not have been hurting too bad considering how he had fucked you earlier.

Jin had suggested bringing Jungkook to town and treating his wounds before he got going again. You had insited that you should get the fivethousand dollar since you technically were about to turn Jungkook in. Jin had protested to say the least.

As you were halfway there, Jungkook stopped the horse suddenly, making Jin, who had been riding ahead, stop as well and looking over his shoulder questioningly. If you had been able to see Jungkook's face you might have been able to predict his next move but since you couldn't you were more than surprised when he suddenly pushed you off the horse.

"Jungkook what the hell-", you said as you landed in the dirt, shoulder aching slightly.

"Sorry, I think it is better this way.", he grinned. "Also, where would be the fun in just staying? You'll seek me out again. My bounty will keep increasing for sure." A smirk was plastered on his lips as he urged the horse forward. "Until we meet again. I'm looking forward to it."

And with that he was gone. His figure disappearing into the darkness of the night. You couldn't even be mad at him. He had managed to escape from you in the end after all. You smiled to yourself, turning to Jin whose eyebrows were raised in surprise as he watched Jungkook disappear. Maybe he was right, it was better this way, he would have been recognized in town and all hell would've broken loose. Also, this way it would be way more fun.

You chuckled to yourself before you made a devastating realization.

"That fucker just took off with MY horse!"

[kieraelieson]

No Rest for the Deathworlders

Logan had always loved the stars.

Still did, though his love had been dampened by the way in which he was currently seeing them.

He watched out the window, or rather, screen, but it was made to show the outside of the ship, and thinking of it as a window was oddly comforting. A bit of something close to home.

A lump grew in his throat at the thought of home, pressing against the collar. He forced himself back to a neutral, tugging the collar away from the front of his throat as far as it would go. A brief flicker of anger replaced the nostalgia. Anger at the collar, at his own inability to remove it, at the monsters that had forced it onto him, at his own complacency now that it was on.

He didn’t have it as bad as some other humans did, he was well aware. All the collar did was teleport him to the location of the person holding the remote. Granted, it was unpleasant and incredibly disorienting, but nothing like the near-torture he’d heard was the more common method of keeping humans captive.

The captain of the ship was smart in choosing Logan, as far as the welfare of the ship went.

“You’re invested in your own survival,” He’d said through the translators. “If the ship goes down, you’ll go with it. If you sabotage the ship and try to escape on a pod, I can get you back to me immediately, and you’ll meet the same fate as you intended for us. It’s in your best interests to cooperate and to bond with the crew.”

Well, Logan could agree that it was in his best interests to cooperate. But no one could make him get attached to anyone. And no one could stop him from making little problems.

Like ignoring the insistent, “Human, where are you? Human!” that was coming from his communicator.

The window dissolved in front of him, and Logan felt abruptly as if he were on the world’s worst rollercoaster for several seconds. It took him a minute to register the angry captain now in front of him. He was yelling something, but not through the communicator, so Logan couldn’t understand what. And he was far too dizzy and almost nauseous to pay attention even if it was understandable.

He shook his head slowly from side to side and up and down once, hoping to clear the vertigo somewhat.

“You must come when called!” The communicator translated. “Or at least answer!”

Logan stubbornly remained silent, the dizziness gradually clearing.

For an alien that looked more like a slime monster than anything with a real face, the captain still managed to look extremely displeased. Not that Logan cared.

“There are ------ trailing our ship,” the captain said, one of his words not translating properly. “We need to go faster or we’ll get boarded.”

Ok, maybe Logan did care.

“Humans are supposed to be good at making ships go faster, fix it.”

Logan frowned. “I’ve been here three days,” he said into the communicator. “I hardly know how anything in the ship works, much less how to improve any of its functions!”

“I’ve studied humans, I know better than that, fix it.” The captain said shortly.

Logan opened his mouth to protest, but the room around him dissolved, the horrible spinning sensation back. His legs gave out and he dropped onto the floor in a different place.

He swallowed hard, his stomach threatening to upend itself.

“And they call you deathworlders,” someone scoffed. “A transporter has you on your knees.”

Beyond his sick feelings, and the anger at being mocked, he caught onto that plural reference. Was there another human on the ship?

In addition, there were apparently multiple remotes to the teleporter around his throat, which ruined his plan of trying to steal or fight the captain for the one.

He slowly sat up, his head still spinning. He hoped that his body would eventually grow accustomed to the teleportation and the dizziness would stop being so awful.

There was a chittering sound beside him that the translator didn’t attempt to process. He turned to see an alien that would likely be very tall if it wasn’t on all fours. It was very thin, with long arms and legs, which ended in smooth nubs, without hands or feet. The front two, which Logan thought of as arms, though the alien probably would have a different name for them, seemed to be perforated along the last six inches. As Logan watched, one of them was extended towards him slowly, and something softer could be seen on the inside. It was able to be extruded through the holes, and was likely the way in which the alien could grasp things.

He backed away from the limb before it could touch him, and the alien also backed away a step, making a low woody sounding whistle, like air blown over a jug. It’s head looked rather moth-like, with antenna that curled and straightened, and large eyes.

The alien seemed sentient, though Logan was confused that the translator wasn’t picking up on its speech.

Until he saw a very familiar collar, only around their waist. They were also captive then. And possibly, though it disappointed his hopes of meeting another human, they were the other deathworlder, also affected poorly by the teleportation.

The strange attempted touch then, could have potentially been intended as comfort or aid.

“You’ve been sitting long enough, get this ship to move faster,” the other alien in the room grumbled.

Logan glared. “How am I even supposed to do that?” He snapped. “I don’t have training or experience, I don’t know what half this stuff is and I can’t read your labels!”

“You can either fix it now, or we can teleport you between here and the captain until you do.” The alien's tone was disgusting and wet, and Logan was glad he could focus on the robot sound of the translator as his stomach lurched again.

He could try.

If nothing else, he might learn some new things and be able to convince them that he really wasn’t able to just do things he’d never tried before.

The room was smaller than he would’ve expected, presuming he was in a kind of engine room. Around the edges of the room were a number of bins, holding substances ranging from powders to liquids.

In the center of the room was a glass tube that went from floor to ceiling, and seemed to be filled with a glowing crystal stalagmite. From the top of the tube dripped some kind of liquid, and at the bottom it flowed out in small pipes, glowing the same as the crystal and possibly converted into fuel.

He could assume that with all of the powders and liquids that there was a chemical reaction causing the substance to obtain the glowing quality and become fuel. But what that was, and how to know what was safe to change about it, he had no idea.

“Well?” The alien, whom he now assumed to be what served as the ship’s engineer, asked.

He was making so many assumptions, and still was barely anywhere. They could all be wrong.

“Explain to me how it works,” Logan said. “Then I’ll try to ‘fix’ it.”

The alien made an unpleasant sound that the translator interpreted as a sigh. “This is a ——-, the liquid is a mixture of ——, ——, ——-, and ——, but it could be made with any of the ——— family instead of the ———, or you could replace the ———- with ——— for better efficiency at different energy levels. We also have several forms of ———-, which ought to make more potent fuel for higher speeds, but every time we’ve tried the ———- smokes and explodes and there’s residue in the tubing for several rotations which puts us at a standstill.”

Logan grimaced. He had a very small idea of what was being said based on gestures, but he’d much prefer to have names and details. It seemed this was a very large and dangerous version of chemistry experiments, with no textbook, and his only advice coming from someone who hadn’t studied.

Well, there was the other ‘deathworlder’ in the room. He could only hope they knew something about any of this. Though the difficulty in communication might make that knowledge impossible to access.

He turned towards them anyway. “Can you understand me at all?”

They made another low whistling sound, followed by chittering. One arm waved, with… could he call them fingers? gesturing towards Logan.

He hoped desperately that he could consider that to be a yes.

“What would you do in—“

The engineer’s communicator interrupted him. “We thought we’d have a few more rotations but they’re closing in, has the human done anything yet?”

“No,” the engineer said. “It’s just staring at everything.”

“Well get it to hurry!”

The other ‘deathworlder’ made a long series of noises, pointing at one bin in particular and then at a place where it seemed the not-yet-fuel liquid was.

It was a foolish thing. A very foolish thing. But Logan took a scoop from the bin and dumped the powder into the liquid.

It bubbled and fizzed on contact, sending up thick clouds of a dark blue smoke.

An alarm blared.

The ship lurched, knocking them all to the ground.

And then the new ingredient actually hit the crystal, and there was a loud, high pitched ringing.

Logan covered his ears and shut his eyes, feeling like a weight was pressing him to the floor.

Everything was spinning, and loud, and then it was loud in a very different, but no less painful way.

“Protect me!” The captain shrieked.

There was a pained, screeching scream.

Logan was shoved, but he was barely aware of which direction, let alone what he was supposed to do about any of it.

Something grabbed onto his shoulders, and he flailed, hitting and kicking indiscriminately. Something burned on his side, and he kicked into something much more solid, sending a throbbing pain up his leg.

Everything was noise and pain and lights and movement and he didn’t understand any of it!

Logan struck out blindly at anything that came near him.

He thought he’d backed into a wall, but something must’ve been behind him, and it hit him hard over the head. He dropped to the floor, tears swimming in his eyes and blurring everything even further.

Everything dissolved around him and he was falling, spinning, dropping, tossed.

He was grateful more than anything when unconsciousness took him.

•^*^••

He woke slowly, feeling hazy and heavy. It was quiet, and not too bright, nothing was touching him. So he didn’t bother to open his eyes, just laying still.

He wasn’t dead at least.

Probably the pirates had attacked. Definitely he’d ruined the ship he’d been on.

The question was, was being with pirates any better than living on a ruined ship with aliens that considered him to be some kind of hyper-intelligent slave?

Or perhaps the question was, where was he now?

He forced his eyes open.

He was in a relatively large, empty room. The floor and walls seemed bare, though patched, not all of a single material.

He pushed himself up. There was a loud skittering noise away from him, and he yelped, flinging himself away clumsily.

He turned, and saw the other deathworlder, front legs shaking and making a rattling noise. He wasn’t sure if it was a fear response, a method of communication, or even some kind of threat display.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, backing up a little farther.

The other alien didn’t try to come close again, so he figured it was mostly likely not interested in threatening him. There wasn’t an echo of his words in an alien language though, and he patted his shoulder to discover that the translator had been taken. His hand went to his throat, disappointed to find that they’d left the collar.

It was still there on the other alien also. They were both still prisoners then, wherever they were.

Looking around, it seemed that they were in an empty cargo space, rather than a proper holding cell, so there was a slightly greater possibility of escape.

There was that low whistling sound again. Logan was certain it was meant as a form of communication.

He tried whistling back, as low as he was capable of.

The alien chittered and shook its legs again, but Logan couldn’t tell even if it was a positive or negative reaction.

“I… don’t know how to talk with you,” he said, keeping his tone low and calm. He sat in a comfortable, loose position, hoping to get across the calm in his tone and posture. “But I’d like to try. I’m not sure what anything you’re doing means, and it’s possible you’re in the same situation. I’m hoping that you have more knowledge of humans than I do of your kind, and that you’ll be able to make better inferences than I’m currently capable of.”

The alien cocked its head to the side, watching him as he spoke. It took a tentative step forward on its spindly legs, and then propped itself on three, holding the fourth out to him.

Logan eyed the appendage. The softer inside substance was filling the holes, making it appear to have small bumps, rather than holes. He held out a hand to it, but didn’t try to touch.

The alien bumped the end of its leg into Logan’s palm.

That seemed… good? Perhaps this was a greeting similar to a handshake?

Logan very gently grasped the end of the appendage, the softer inside substance feeling cool to the touch, and almost like a stiff putty, whereas the harder outer shell felt very smooth and rigid, similar to metal, but light.

The alien retracted their arm, and then looked between their arm and his hand. The inner substance reformed, pressing out from several holes into a clear attempt at fingers. It seemed to be fully controlled by the alien, and moveable, albeit much more slowly than Logan could move his own fingers.

“That’s very impressive,” Logan said.

The alien chittered back at him.

Perhaps they could get somewhere through a kind of charades.

•^*^••

“I think that’s all we can carry,” Roman said, looking over the wreckage.

“We can hold more, we aren’t full yet,” Remus protested, still sad that some of the ship’s inhabitants had taken the escape pods. Aside from the power crystal, which was far too unstable to take, they were the best value on the little ship.

“The whole 3rd cargo bay is empty for the two deathworlders, we’re full.” Roman insisted.

“Oh. Forgot about them. Well, if we can hold ‘em, they might be enough to make it worth it.”

“If we can refill,” Roman grumbled. “I was expecting usable power from this ship.”

It had really been a not-very-great raid. They’d lost Aide, and Bill, and Rahgezis, and hadn’t even gotten much of anything good out of it.

And the deathworlders were far too grumpy to join the crew. If they’d had enough room they would’ve separated them, but he just took away the translators and hoped they weren’t already pack-bonded, and wouldn’t become so. Two single deathworlders were bad enough, two together? Their ship would be a wreck from the inside out.

They needed to give them a rotation or two to calm down, try and have a talk, and then drop them off at the nearest Embassy and get away before bad things happened.

Maybe the Embassy would even pay them for handing over deathworlders. Or maybe they’d arrest them for being pirates.

But without Rahgezis, Remus didn’t want to attempt anything on the black market with such a high demand as deathworlders.

And the teleportation bands should make it a little easier on them. They were super old, and no one in their right mind would use them, except as a practical joke, or a way of keeping enemies too off balance to attack. The ones on the two of them had been fused closed, rather than the usual buckle, so he felt more safe trying to hold the deathworlders than he would otherwise.

They’d only found one remote, but Inshes was already working on making a second.

“I’m going to see if the Scraascik is on any registries,” Roman said. “And I’ll check for the Human, but that’s less likely.”

Remus nodded. “I’ll handle getting us moving again. If they’re awake, maybe you could see about dropping some food into the cargo bay.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” Roman sighed.

Remus set a claw on Roman’s back. Roman grumbled, leaning into Remus’s side, and then went off to do his research.

It’d been a hard day for both of them.

•^*^••

They’d managed to exchange names… sort of. The alien’s name was two notes, whistled lower than Logan was capable of, and likewise there was no way of the alien being able to pronounce the word Logan.

But the alien made a deep, almost resonant sound, that was as close as it seemed they could get to anything involving vocal cords. And that was their version of Logan.

Logan considered the two note sound, and came up with a slightly similar-sounding name. Virgil.

Neither of their names for each other were really very similar to their actual names, but they were able to understand each other, and that was what mattered.

As it turned out, Virgil was stronger than he was at pushing things, or hitting, but they couldn’t pull with any strength.

Logan was focusing his attention on the door, and had been so far unsuccessful in prying it open. It was solidly locked, and the lock seemed to only be on the other side of the door. Which likely meant that this room was detachable from the rest of the ship, in case of emergency or danger.

“Virgil.” Logan said, and Virgil turned to look at him from the patch on the wall they’d been inspecting.

Logan hit the door with his palm, his arm straight, in an imitation of the way he’d seen Virgil hit some of the patches, trying to break them. “Hit here.” He pointed at Virgil, and then at a spot where he suspected the lock was.

Virgil made a chittering sound and shambled over.

Logan again mimicked the strike, and then pointed at Virgil.

Virgil got into position. They were able to balance on three legs and rock their whole body weight forward to strike that small point their arm hit with all their strength and weight together.

They tried three times, but the door held firm.

Logan was impressed that they did not seem hurt by the attempt. Their exoskeleton must be very strong indeed. Which was possibly a part of why they were considered a deathworlder.

Logan wondered what their home planet was like.

The door suddenly opened, an alien clearly holding up one of the remotes to the teleporters.

Virgil backed away, turning and running to the other end of the room.

The alien spoke into a small microphone, which translated. “I brought food. Don’t come near me.”

The alien’s body looked almost bear-like, but with longer legs, clearly bipedal. They were only about half the size of a bear though. The fur also was shorter and sparser, and a very reddish kind of brown. The hands looked more useful than a bear’s paws as well. The head though was very unlike a bear’s. Logan didn’t know what to compare it to.

The alien was wearing clothes, which Logan had learned was entirely optional to most aliens, in bright reds and goldish yellows.

Perhaps this meant that this particular alien was more… Logan hesitated to say civilized. He scarcely knew anything about aliens, and could hardly make such judgements about them. Still, he believed he had a bit more chance reasoning with this one.

“Let us out of here,” he said, grateful that the translator picked it up and interpreted it.

“No.”

“We will leave you alone, we will not harm the ship. Let us go,” Logan said calmly but firmly.

The alien again said no, pushing in a tray of what could be food into the room with their foot, already starting to close the door.

“Wait!” Logan said, stepping forward.

The alien jumped, and pushed the button on the remote.

It didn’t seem to affect Logan, but instead Virgil was teleported close to the door. Virgil stumbled, falling against the wall and letting out what could only be described as a scream.

The alien who had delivered food looked even more scared now, and quickly shut the door. Logan pushed through his shock and alarm to try to open the door before it could be locked, but he was too late.

Virgil slumped to the ground, scream fading to a whistling wheeze.

As bad as the teleportation felt to him, Logan was scared that Virgil was being injured by it. Perhaps on the inside, where they were softer. Or perhaps it put too much strain on their rigid exoskeleton.

Was there anything he could do? He didn’t have any idea about what Virgil could need for medical care, and he didn’t want an attempt at comfort to be construed as an attack, especially while Virgil was vulnerable.

He knelt close to Virgil, a bit farther than an arm's length.

“Virgil?”

Virgil’s eyes opened, and from this close Logan could see the differentiation between pupil and iris. Virgil’s eyes were moving back and forth, like Logan had seen before in children who’d been spun in circles. He was likely still extremely disoriented then.

Virgil lifted one arm and waved it around slowly. It knocked into Logan’s shoulder lightly, and Virgil kept tapping it against his shoulders and head. Logan allowed it without complaint, guessing that it was grounding to Virgil, being able to verify that Logan was in one place and not moving, not spinning.

Virgil gradually steadied, taking their arm back.

Logan wished he had a way to ask ‘are you ok?’, but he didn’t. The best he had was, “Virgil?”

The whistle-clack he got in return seemed more positive than negative, though he had no way of accurately judging alien tones.

“Logan.”

Logan nodded, as it seemed the correct response.

Virgil pointed towards the nearly-forgotten tray, and Logan went to get it. Virgil struggled to their feet, looking something like a very large baby deer first trying to stand. If Logan had to guess, Virgil’s kind didn’t frequently sit or lie down.

The tray had a number of small round roll-like things that Logan was now accustomed to seeing. They were similar to banana bread in texture, but the taste was salty and rather bitter. When he’d asked, he’d been told that they were the standard in rations as they kept for a long time, and held an array of nutrients that was sufficient for the basic needs of a majority of species.

He suspected that he would require some greens or fruit if he continued eating these primarily, but he hadn’t seen any anywhere, only these.

Virgil stood over him and leaned down as much as they seemed easily capable of, which still left their head several feet above the ground. Logan was just wondering if they would need assistance to eat when a very long tongue, or perhaps proboscis, unrolled from their mouth and curled around one of the rolls, pulling it up into their mouth.

“What do you eat natively?” Logan wondered aloud. “And do you need water?”

There was a pitcher of water and two small cups. Logan poured one cup full and held it out to Virgil.

Virgil seemed to still be chewing, however, and incapable of drinking while doing so. Or perhaps they didn’t require water. Though, now that Logan was watching, he didn’t believe they were chewing at all. Certainly there was no jaw movement. They could be massaging the food with their tongue, and have particularly effective saliva perhaps.

Logan started eating a roll, setting Virgil’s cup down and filling the other for himself.

A minute later Virgil’s tongue unrolled again and drained the cup, seemingly effective as a massive straw.

“You really are fascinating,” Logan said softly. “Were we not in such a situation I would love to learn more about you.”

Virgil responded with a series of clicks and whistles.

“As it is though, we probably ought to attempt an escape. They haven’t tried to get anything from us, which makes me think they intend on trafficking us further. Most likely they don’t have the power to force us into work like the last ship did, so I think, despite the danger, that this will be our best chance. Of course, the danger is greater for you, the teleportation seems to hurt you much more than it does me.” Logan thought for a while. “I think our best bet would be to try forcing our way out the door the next time it opens. Perhaps one of us could knock the remote away. It is enlightening to know that the remote only works on one of us at a time.”

Logan sighed. “Of course we don’t know when or if they’ll enter again. It’s possible we’ll be held here until we reach wherever we’re going.”

Virgil made a low, soft whistle.

Logan laid on his back. “I can’t even properly ask you for your partnership. It’s infuriating to not be able to succeed at anything I attempt. There’s such a wealth of knowledge that is necessary, and I have no idea of any of it. Nor a way of learning, save through painful experience. I can’t become complacent, I have to effect change, but I never know when my efforts will be simply overturned.”

Virgil nudged his arm with their own.

Logan turned to look at them. Virgil chittered at him, bobbing up and down on their legs.

“What is it?”

“Logan.” Virgil said, still bobbing up and down.

Logan sat up. “I don’t understand.”

Virgil tapped his legs with their arm. “Logan.”

Logan stood up. “Is this what you want? Oh. If you don’t lay down to sleep, you must’ve been concerned when I did. I’ll have to sleep sometime though, and surely you’ve been exposed to aliens that lay down to sleep.”

But rather than relaxing, as Logan would assume Virgil would do if they were concerned, Virgil stepped closer, almost over Logan. Their antenna tilted towards him.

“Oh I see, this would be how you would confirm that I’m healthy, by feeling with your antenna, yes?” Logan remained still, unsurprised when there was a soft touch on his head.

But he was not at all expecting the sudden mental image of himself tackling the alien who’d delivered the food. It was so vivid it was as if he was already doing it, seeing the door open, tackling the alien, smashing the remote, and running forward to climb onto Virgil’s back as Virgil ran them both through the hallway.

Logan jerked back, falling on his butt. “What was that?! You have telepathy??”

Virgil made a movement that could be best described as a shrug.

Logan stood up again, reaching his hand out, battling his speed from excitement in an attempt not to scare Virgil. “Can we do it again?”

Virgil brushed his hand with their antenna, and the same scene flashed before his mind’s eye.

“Yes, yes I’ll do that! Can you understand my answer?”

Virgil made a whistle that Logan was almost certain was affirmative.

Logan paced back and forth excitedly, thinking out loud. “So you can communicate with me even if I can’t communicate with you well. And you very much want my partnership in escaping. We have a plan now. And a form of communication. Virgil, this is amazing!”

Virgil made an almost trilling noise.

•^*^••

“No, it hurt the Scraascik,” Roman said, already changing the ship’s course. “We can’t hold them safely, we have to get to the Embassy.”

“We didn’t even ask them to join us yet!” Remus protested.

“Would you join a strange crew after they hurt you?” Roman retorted, sending a message to the engine room to increase speed.

“Well what about the other one?”

“Remus. It won’t work.” Roman glared at him. “I don’t want to take chances with deathworlders.”

Remus sighed. “Fine. But let me try talking to them before we get there.”

Roman’s face went hard. “You have until we arrive,” he finally conceded.

Remus hurried down to the cargo bay.

He burst the door open, and it slammed shut behind him. Both deathworlders jolted, staring at him.

He then realized that he’d entirely forgotten the remote and the duplicate, and also that he was locked in a room with two deathworlders.

Well, there was a reason people joked he was addicted to adrenaline.

“Hello!” He said, waving. “I’m wondering if you’ll join my crew.”

The human moved first, standing up to a height decently taller than Remus was. And the Scraascik was even larger.

Perhaps he really was in serious danger.

“We just want to leave,” the human said, sounding rather threatening.

Probably telling them about the plan to hand them over to the Embassy then wasn’t a good idea until he was sure that he wasn’t in attack distance anymore. “You can, leave with us. Join our crew and you can adventure with us, raid ships, explore planets!”

“We want to leave alone,” the human said firmly.

“We? So… you bonded then? I guess that rumor is true, deathworlders all really do bond super fast.”

The human bared its teeth at him. “I will not be bonding to your crew based on your desires. I will not remain here, I want to leave. We want to leave.”

The Scraascik agreed in some of the most heavily accented Common Remus had ever heard. No wonder the translators hadn’t picked up any of his yelling when they’d boarded the ship. He’d probably need a translator to touch his antenna, but good luck getting a Scraascik to let anything touch their antenna.

“So you won’t even consider it?” Remus asked, not yet daunted.

“You’ve essentially kidnapped us, and both can and have hurt us! Why would I consider it?”

Yikes, the human sounded angry.

“Well we didn’t mean to hurt you, really, it’s not meant to be that bad. And we only kidnapped you from other kidnappers, and also I can’t hurt you cause I forgot the remote.”

The two deathworlders looked at each other, and Remus knew he really had gone and shoved his whole fist in his mouth. The human shifted position to a much more threatening crouch, as if it was going to pounce on him.

Remus held his arms out, claws at the ready. He might not have a hope of winning against deathworlders, but he could certainly make himself a pain of a target.

“I know I’m a pirate, but this was supposed to be just a talk,” Remus said, wondering if he’d be able to hit the communicator in time and if rescue was possible. Violent deathworlders in an enclosed space was not something he wanted his crew walking into, even for a rescue.

“It’s not much of a talk when we don’t have a say,” the human said, looking more and more threatening every second.

Iaoth , he wanted this human on his crew.

“Of course you have a say!” Remus said. “Name it, what position do you want, what pay, days off, I’ll give you whatever room in the ship you want as your quarters.”

“I fundamentally disagree with joining people that would knowingly traffic other people,” the human growled.

And then it leapt forward.

Remus yelped, swiping at the human and hitting the communicator with his other hand. “Roman!”

He was tackled to the ground, and the Scraascik pinned one arm while the human sat on his middle and held his other arm down.

“Remus?!” Roman’s voice came through the communicator.

“Let us go,” the human growled. “Once we’re out we’ll let them go.”

There was a tremor to the floor that Remus recognized. Roman must have been overloading the engine, they’d arrived and were docking.

“Is Remus ok?” Roman asked, sounding terrified.

“I’m fine, just a little stuck,” Remus said, trying to not sound scared so Roman wouldn’t get even more worried. “Laying under a deathworlder~ not quite as fun as I always imagined.”

Roman made a sound somewhere between a sob and laugh. “I’m coming to let you out. Don’t hurt him. Please.”

Remus was honestly a bit surprised that he was only pinned. The human was leaking blood from its shoulder and across its chest where Remus’s swipe had connected, but it hadn’t retaliated.

“Hurry,” the human said coldly.

The communicator turned off, and Remus had a strong suspicion Roman was calling the Embassy to have guards outside the ship when the cargo hold was opened.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Remus asked. “I know it won’t look like it from your end, but we don’t traffic, we take from ships we attack, but we’d either let them join us or take them to the authorities, we don’t just continue the traffic. And we could use people like you, you could help us take down so many more ships.”

The Scraascik leaned harder on his arm, and Remus grimaced.

“What would the authorities do?” The human asked.

“Uhhhh… well with the Scraascik, probably drop him back on his own planet, or with a Scraascik colony. Your planet though is still restricted, so they’d probably keep you until it’s opened.”

The human’s face contorted into something that did not look good for Remus.

“We’re on our way there, aren’t we?”

Remus wasn’t sure he dared lie, not when he was pinned to the ground with two very angry-seeming deathworlders over him. “Yeah.”

The human hit the communicator. “Listen.”

“I’m listening,” Roman said warily.

“Don’t open the cargo hold,” the human ordered. “You’re a pirate ship. You have smaller ships for scavenging, yes?”

“…yes.”

“Give us one.”

There was a long pause from Roman.

“Put food and fuel and translators in it,” the human said firmly. “We’re taking this one with us until we’re safely inside.”

This was probably wrecking Roman’s plans. There would be authorities involved and now no deathworlders to give them.

“Alright,” Roman said.

•^*^••

The door to the cargo hold was opened. Logan had the bear-alien in a tight hold, and Virgil was above them, looking like they were ready to strike out at anything that got within range.

They managed to walk along the halls until they reached the smaller ship. Logan had no idea how he was going to fly it, but it was the biggest chance by far that he’d had yet.

He shoved the bear alien away and slammed the door shut.

Virgil went immediately to the pilot’s seat, and Logan was amazed to see that there were places in the ceiling that fit their antenna. Soon there was a fast and loud humming, and the tiny ship lurched into motion.

•^*^••

Patton was being sent, since they didn’t really believe that there could be a Human and a Scraascik on the cobbled-together ship that had docked. So it was just him and Janus.

Janus wrapped his long tail around the back of Patton’s neck for balance as Patton walked back and forth, waiting for the ship to open its cargo bay.

It sure was taking a long time. They’d seemed so rushed when they called, but now they just wouldn’t open.

And then there was an engine powering up.

A teeny little scavenging ship took off from the bigger one, flying off. Patton scanned it, alarmed to see that there was indeed a Scraascik and a Human signature on board.

“Hey! Hey wait!”

He pulled out his radio, quickly setting it to the bigger ship’s frequency. “Let me in and go after them! We can’t let a Human go flying around unattended!”

“If they don’t let us in fast, go take the SC Meteor,” Janus said.

Patton wasn’t too surprised when the ship started undocking without answering him.

“We’ll get them!” He yelled, running for the Meteor.

[brattata]

Windows

Crossposted from my AO3 account, if it seems familiar. Mature content below, so minors please DNI!

Joseph's been putting a lot of work into your real estate business, and it's really starting to pay off. You wanted to congratulate him by christening his fancy new desk in his fancy new office, but things don't go according to your plan.

Joseph Joestar x AFAB reader (no female pronouns used, but reader wears feminine clothing)

CW: Semi-public sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, Joseph says “cunt” one (1) time 

“It’s impressive,” you admit, leaning in for an almost-kiss.

Instead of closing the distance, Joseph grabs your hands and pulls you up from the couch excitedly, leading you over to the far wall. “You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he teases. “Watch this.”

He reaches up to press a subtly disguised switch, and it becomes apparent that the “wall” is actually a massive floor-to-ceiling window, slowly revealed from behind the dark wood paneling.

“Wow,” you whisper, pressing your hand to the cool glass. Beyond it is the Manhattan skyline, breathtaking from 15 stories up. The brightness of the city obscures most of the stars, but the thousands of twinkling lights and glowing windows are beautiful in their own way. There are people behind some of those windows, you think – working late, or maybe enjoying time with their families. Maybe taking in the view with the person they love most, the way you are now.

Joseph hums a kiss into your hair, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His comforting weight against your back and impish smile reflected in the glass make you feel so warm inside, your heart could burst.

Until one of his hands slips beneath your skirt.

“JoJo!” you gasp, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Oh come on, don’t be coy!” he laughs. “The champagne, the perfume…that skirt, with no nylons underneath.” His smirk is undeniably sexy, but that only makes you more annoyed. “You didn’t come here for a tour of the new office.”

“No, I wanted to celebrate with you!” You pause. “In your new chair, or maybe on top of your new desk. But not in front of a window, Joseph!”

“Why not?” he asks, almost sounding genuinely perplexed.

“Someone could see!”

“Who?” he laughs again. “It’s late. No one’s watching. Even if they were, they would be too far away to see our faces.” Now he’s trailing kisses down the back of your neck, shameless as ever in exploiting your weaknesses. “And besides, I think you like an audience.”

“I-JoJo, what-,” you splutter, scandalized and yet burning at his accusation.

“I noticed last summer at Grandma Erina’s,” he replies, letting his lips brush against your nape. “When Smokey walked in on us. You remember, right?”

How could you forget? Even now, the memory has your insides twisting with a complicated emotion you can’t quite place. Like embarrassment but sharper, hotter. Exciting.

“I’d never seen you make that face before. Not to mention the way you held onto me…and well, held onto me.” Joseph pauses from tormenting your neck to flash you a dirty little grin. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

“O-oh, Joseph, I’m. I don’t know,” you trail off. Immediately his chin comes to rest on top of your head, one arm draped around your shoulders and the other curling soothingly around your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby,” he murmurs. “I only want to make you feel good.”

You take a moment, studying your feelings and Joseph’s gentle (but hopeful) expression. Then you unfasten your skirt.

Immediately Joseph lets go of you with a little whoop and a fist pump before tearing into his shirt and tie.

“God, you’re lucky you’re handsome,” you scold him good-naturedly, giggling a bit at his childishness. You kick the skirt away, opting to leave your kitten heels on. Next comes your blouse, which you unbutton slowly for Joseph’s benefit. His shirt is gone, along with his belt. He palms himself lazily over unbuttoned pants, watching your fingers work.

“Don’t forget heroic, a genius, and—“ his bragging is cut short by a low whistle as your bra is revealed, a delicate little number formed of translucent lace. Once you let the blouse fall he can fully appreciate the matching panties, cupping your ass nicely but leaving very little to the imagination. “Baby, you did come dressed to celebrate.”

When you reach back to undo the bra clasp Joseph stops you, lips back on your neck and hands rubbing your shoulders. Instead you tug the cups down until your breasts spill out, earning you a hissed “Niiice” before his hands quickly replace the lace. The contrast is delicious – warm, calloused flesh on one side, smooth and cool metal on the other. Both options have your nipples pebbling almost instantly, Joseph kneading your tits with reverence as if this is a rare treat rather than something he gets to do almost every day.

It is kind of a special occasion.

Before long his right hand drifts down your stomach, slipping deftly into your underwear. You’re so slick he can barely keep a finger on your clit, forcing a whine from you and a low groan from him. “Holy shit, you’re wet! The thought of putting on a show for some strangers gets you this worked up?”

“N-no, I’m excited for you, JoJo,” you coo, hips undulating along with his fingers. “It feels so good when you touch me.”

“Hmm, seems like I barely need to touch you at all,” he replies, back to his smug grin. With little warning he slips one finger inside you, then two, then three. There’s the tiniest sting, but you take them all easily. “See? You’re already ready for me.” It’s hard to argue when his strong, thick fingers are knuckle deep inside you and your pussy is still aching for more. “Since you want it so badly, guess it’s time to stop playing around and have some real fun.” The fingers are gone. “Bend over, baby.”

With a shaky sigh you do as you’re told, bracing your hands against the window and sliding your legs apart. You can’t resist wiggling your hips a little, asking for a playful swat from Joseph’s right hand. His left hand is suddenly gripping your ass, thumb spreading your lower lips open even wider and sweeping the gusset of your panties aside. You hear a zipper and rustling fabric, but instead of his cock, it’s a puff of warm air that caresses your pussy, followed by a firm stroke of his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you wail, leaning your forehead against the glass.

“Not until you beg for it, my love,” Joseph chuckles. “I can eat this sweet pussy all night! Make you come until you’re crying for my cock!”

“JoJo!” you moan, desperately. You want to ask what’s gotten into him, but he’s sucking hard on your clit and you can barely hold a thought. He’s always been vocal during sex, but his babbling is usually sweet, not this demanding or…filthy. You love your adorably enthusiastic Joseph, but this version is also thrilling, and it makes you wonder if you’re not the only one excited by imagining eyes on the other side of the window. He’s slurping your pussy so loudly you know it’s deliberate, groaning like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

And for another reason, you realize, when you look at your reflections and see him vigorously stroking his cock. It’s the sight that carries you over the edge: Joseph kneeling with his face buried between your legs, so turned on that he can’t help but touch himself. You come with a strangled squeal, and Joseph gives your clit an affectionate peck as if to say “good job.” He’s gripping the base of his cock so hard it looks painful.

“Fuck me, JoJo,” you gasp. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You rest for a bit against the window while Joseph stands and adjusts his grip on your hips. Now there are two thumbs spreading you open completely, which you might protest as embarrassing if you weren’t turned on beyond all pretense. You suck in a breath when the head of his cock finally kisses your opening, only for him to stop before taking the plunge.

“Look at that. It’s show time after all.” Blearily, you lift your head to see a silhouette in one of the windows in the office building across from you. Whoever it is has dimmed their lights so you can’t see much other than a vague shape, but it’s easy to imagine a strange pair of eyes staring into yours as Joseph sinks deep with one thrust.

The sudden stretch and the arousal have you coming again, softly this time, an aftershock of the pleasure you got from Joseph’s tongue. He leans his weight against your ass and holds still, luxuriating in the way you ripple around him, like you want him even deeper. “Fuck, this is good! We should’ve done this sooner!”

“Yeah,” you agree dreamily, grinding back against Joseph while you wait for him to move. He pulls back and thrusts hard, making your palms squeak against the glass.

“Maybe-“ he grunts, “maybe we should try it again on Monday morning. I’ll brace you against the doorway of my office, just like this, and we can show everyone that sexy face you’re making. Show them how hard I make you come.”

“But I don’t want them to see,” you murmur back. “Those things, I only want to show them to you, JoJo.”

“S-shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, you’re so hot. So beautiful!” He has a hand around your breast again, lips, tongue, and teeth trailing across your neck and shoulders just the way you like. He presses his face next to yours and gently tilts your chin up, making you look out the window again. “It looks like our new friend agrees.”

Across from you, the silhouette’s arm is moving back and forth. You can’t really see what’s happening, but you know.

“You’re so sexy, you’ve got him jerking off in the middle of his office,” Joseph laughs breathily. He slips two fingers between your parted lips, stroking your tongue in time with his thrusts. “Who could blame him? Watching those gorgeous tits bouncing above that pretty lace. Imagining his cock is the one pounding out your hot little cunt.”

You stiffen up a bit at the vulgarity and Joseph kisses your temple, asking with his eyes if what he said was okay. “Yes, yes, fuck,” you moan around his fingers, bracing against the glass to shove yourself into his cock, demanding deeper, harder, more. Joseph tilts his head to kiss you hungrily. His wet fingers go straight to your clit where they rub and pinch until you’re whimpering into his mouth, near tears.

“He can’t even hear how wet you are,” Joseph continues. “So wet you’re dripping all over the nice new carpet.”

You laugh a little at that. “As if you’re not desperate to make an even bigger mess, JoJo,” you tease back, lips touching as you pant into each other’s mouths. “Will you clean me up, baby? After you make a mess of me?”

“Fuck yes,” Joseph groans. “I’ll do anything, anything!”

“Come for me. Come inside me. I need it so badly, JoJo.” Whether it’s a plea or a command, Joseph can’t help but obey. He presses his face between your shoulder blades and one lightly Hamon-charged fingertip to your clit, and you’re thrown off the cliff of a breathless, whiteout orgasm. It feels like every muscle in your body is clenching for Joseph’s cock. He’s scorching hot and huge inside you as he fills you up, and you wring him for every last drop. He slowly pulls out and helps you right yourself, turning your back to the window as he leans down for a kiss.

“That was amazing. I love you.” Before you can return the words he’s already sinking to his knees, nudging your legs apart so he can fit between them.

“Joseph, I’m tired,” you demur, stroking his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“But I still need to clean up,” he insists. When he grins at you like that, you can’t say no. “I’ll go slow, baby, I promise.”

He starts with your inner thighs, looking very pleased with himself when he gets a few giggles out of you from the ticklish sensation. When his mouth finally reaches your center it is slow and soothing. He’s not trying to force another orgasm from you – just enjoying you, caring for you, showing his love. You don’t come by the time he’s finished, but you don’t need to. You just want him to hold you, so he does.

When you reach the couch he plops down on it, keeping you cradled in his lap. He takes off both of your shoes and stretches out on his back (as much as he can), draping you across his front. He’s warm, and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, and even though you know you’re going to be ungodly sore tomorrow, right now everything feels perfect.

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest.

“Anytime, baby,” he chuckles warmly. He smiles up at you, looking happy but not as content as you feel.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, a little worried. “It was good for you, wasn't it? Not…weird?”

“Of course, it was great for me! Don’t look at me like that!” He reaches for your cheek, rubbing at the corner of your frown. “I was just, ah,” he clears his throat, adjusting your position so that you’re more beside him than on top of him. On the way down, your leg brushes what is unmistakably a semi-erection already straining against his briefs. “I was just thinking about what you said earlier, about ‘celebrating’ on my desk.”

“Absolutely not,” you groan, nuzzling against his shoulder, eyes already closed.

“Your next line is: ‘Maybe tomorrow, JoJo!’”

“Nice try.”

[oneshotnewbie]

Ah I loved the PLL one shot! Can we please get an emily fields one where the reader is her little sister and they find them in a life threatening situation and emily has never been more scared (reader got injured while protecting her sister). You can make it as angsty as you want!!

A/N: I feel a bit better and I couldn't wait to post again so.. here we go! :)

---

You were out, once again following a trail to A when you had the feeling of being followed and observed by several eyes. It was too dark to see anything, the glow of your flashlights were too weak to shine through the vastness of the deep forest.

"Folks, we should go. I think we're being watched." you talked in the direction of the four other girls in front of you while you pressed your jacket closer to your body, following their steps and kept shining backwards. "Don't be so paranoid, Y/N and start searching." Hanna whispered back annoyed, which gave the dark atmosphere even more space for fear.

While the others searched the area near the tiny burned barn, the rustling of the deciduous trees in the wind of the evening and the cracking and breaking of individual branches behind you made you crazy. Any kind of noise made you listen attentively and made your heart race faster.

You swallowed hard and turned back to your friends, you couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong and that danger was lurking for you. "We have to get out of here!" you demanded before something hissed past you and got stuck in the old wood of the door from the burned house in front of you. It was a small arrow that easily missed you by not even an inch. "Get down!"

You looked quickly in the direction where the arrow was coming from before your shaking hand reached out to it and pulled it out of the charred wood. You threw yourself down on the floor and crawled to your sister which pulled you by your arm behind a piece of wood for cover. "Are you hurt?"

"Just my feelings, the next time you all don't fucking listen to me." you snapped and leaned your back against the wall while trying to calm down from your adrenaline kick, your body trembling in your sisters body. You took a deep breath before you held the object in front of your face to inspect the missile. With your index finger, you trailed the tip of it; it was sharp and could do significant damage at that speed.

"A bow?" Aria stammered as she looked over Emily to you and the thing in your hand. Your eyes slowly traveled to Aria, the whole situation visibly scared her as her body trembled and her voice cracked. "A crossbow, smaller and more dangerous." replied Spencer in a hushed tone.

Two more times it hissed behind you and Emily took your head protectively in her arms and hid it with her own while you heard fearful screams from your side. The attacker knew exactly where you were hiding; the arrows got stuck in front of you in the rolled up hay bales, a few centimeters away from you.

"We need a plan, NOW!"

You went through every single way you could get your friends and sister out of here safely. You didn't know how many of them were out there hunting you, you didn't even had a clue where you left Spencer's car. "There is no other way out, we have to run." You stated and hoped the brunette genius would intervene and suggest a better idea, but when she nodded and scanned her eyes for a way out through the rubble, you knew that there was nothing left you could do.

You turned on your knees and peaked your head over the ledge when you saw two people in black come towards you. This time, panic kicked in and you sank to the ground before you looked in shocked faces and counted down. "Run but keep your heads down!"

While Aria, Hanna & Spencer squeezed through the ailing wooden beams that were still standing, you pushed Emily forward with one hand on her lower back to get her to move before you started to sprint and jump over the beams after her.

The arrows that just flew past your head and the unpleasant sound they left in your ears mixed with the screaming of the other girls was uncomfortable and made you wince every time. You tried to follow Emily, even if she was far faster than you, she dragged you by the hand and you could feel your legs slowly getting tired and you getting out of breath.

You and your sister got separated from the others short after and ran in a completely different direction. Now you were definitely unsure whether you were on the right track at all or whether you would run into A's hands. "Emy, I need a break." you puffed as you stopped in an open and free place, resting your hands on your knees while breathing heavily.

While she was about to begin to talk, loud footsteps came out of the forest again. You could only see the black figure in your line of sight before the person pulled his crossbow in front of his chest and pulled the trigger.

"Emily!"

As if in slow motion, you crossed the last few meters with your last strength and shoved her aside with an violent push. You heard her grunting as she slid across the ground, gravel digging into her skin as you heard a sharp intake of breath shortly followed with her pulling herself back up, holding the arm she fell on.

You doubled over, falling to the floor and now were laying on the ground. You let out a short, painful scream that filled the whole atmosphere while trying to support yourself with your elbows. But it didn't work, you lost your strength and fell to the ground again, noticing a sharp pain in your upper stomach.

You raised your head and looked at the sore spot; an arrow had pierced your torso and was still stuck in you, a big blood stain already starting to cover your white shirt. "Damn." you mumbled while you put your hands around the arrow to stabilize it. "Oh my god, Y/N!"

She ran to you and threw herself on the floor next to you, completely blocking out her pain. With her good hand, she hovered over your stomach, trying to do something but didn't know what. "No no no." the pain you could her in your sister's voice made a chill run own your spine - or was it the cold that gradually spread through your entire body? "I don't know what to do. I don't know."

You clenched your teeth before speaking, your voice fragile and weak, your lips starting to turn blue. "You have to..." you bit your lip to keep from screaming. "Call the girls. Get the car."

While she nodded and pulled up her nose, she took her cell phone out of her pocket and called Hanna. She explained in short sentences what had happened while she paused every now and then to take a deep breath and to check if you were still with her.

You were trembling uncontrollable and the vision in front of your eyes became blurred while the pain faded slowly but steady. "We're at some small lake. Come quickly, she is loosing a lot of blood. PLEASE!" she yelled into the phone before it fell on the gravel. Her finger intertwined with your bloody hand. "It's okay, do you hear? You will be okay."

She pressed your cold hand tighter into hers while she placed them on her lap. With her aching and bruised arm, she brushed your hair from your face and you could see by her impression how overwhelmed she was with this situation. "You saved me."

"Do you see the stars and the moon? They are so beautiful." did you start talking to distract your sister from what was happening at that moment. She was hyperventilating. "Do you remember the camp? We always looked for the individual stars in out astrology book." you whispered and raised your free hand once more to the sky. You noticed how your consciousness slowly faded and your breathing became difficult; it was now flat and painful.

"Yes it was beautiful." she whispered and began to smile. She remembered the wonderful time with you under the stars. You were always so excited when she told you which signs were currently in the sky and heard her stories until you fell asleep. For a brief moment her tears had stopped flowing and her worries disappeared. "Do you remember your favorite story?"

But there was no answer.

In a flesh she looked down at you and only now noticed that your hand was no longer holding her but was just lying loosely in it. The other hand had fallen to the side from your stomach and was also motionless while your eyes were closed and you no longer responded to any attempt she was making to wake you up.

One down, four to go. - A

[barnes-dameron]

Take It Off

*not my gif

The Mandalorian x reader

Summary: A run in with the Marshal of Mos Peligo makes Mando reevaluate how he is handling his feelings for you. 

Warnings: smut

Word Count: 1.9k 

A/N: Some Chapter 9 spoilers, read at your own risk. I was so upset that I couldn’t find the perfect gif from the episode, but this one will have to do. 

***

To say the Mandalorian was angry was an understatement. He should’ve been happy if anything. He got the armor of his people back from a man who abused it, and survived from being consumed by a krayt dragon. But hearing you laugh at the Marshal’s comment before leaving for the ship caused anger to flood through Din’s veins. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear before climbing onto the speeder behind him caused his hand to twitch right above his blaster. 

It drove him crazy how Cobb was flirting with you throughout the mission, and it drove him crazier how responsive you were to the comments. Yes, he’s been keeping his feelings for you under wraps. He had to. It’s been bad enough that he drags you into danger, but having a relationship with you might even be more dangerous. For you or for him, he couldn’t decide. Din hid his feelings fairly well, but it’s easy to do that when it’s just you two and the child on the ship. But he never anticipated how difficult it would be in public, especially with another man who seems to be interested in you. 

Din refused to imagine you with someone other than him. He’s gotten so used to you around him, that the thought of you with another man was foreign and unwelcome to him. At times he hated the helmet that he swore to wear, but others he was grateful for it. It hid his jealousy which was painted all over his face. Every time Cobb stared at you, Din clenched his jaw. Every time Cobb flirted with you, Din gritted his teeth. Every time Cobb touched you, Din fisted his hand. The last one was harder to hide, but he did it anyways. A warning for Cobb if anything. 

Din gripped the speeder’s handles tighter as he rode the bike through the Tatooine desert. He was hyper aware of the way you held on to him, your arms wrapped around and squeezing him as if your life depended on it. Your body pressed against his. Din wished the armor wasn’t there so he could feel your body and warmth. He needed to get back to the ship and put as much distance between you and Cobb. He needed you alone. 

The need was so deep that he dismissed Peli when arriving back, leaving you to apologize for him. He headed straight to the cock pit and set out once he was sure you and the child were secure within the ship. He needed to clear his head, and watching the stars stretch as he set the course into hyperspace gave him that peace of mind. Tatooine and Cobb were behind him, and he had you all to himself. Taking a deep breath, Din got up from his seat and headed down to the haul. 

The first thing he saw first softened Din’s heart. He was met with your back to him as you were holding the child close to your chest with his head leaning on your shoulder, singing softly as his eyelids grew heavier by the passing second. Your maternal instincts were something that Din grew fond of, and admired about you. He watched as you bend down, placing the child in his cradle and closing the lid to give him some peace and quiet after a long day. At that moment, Din felt stupid. How could he ever be jealous of you and Cobb? You were here with him and the child. It was obvious that you couldn’t leave now. 

But that moment quickly vanished when you turned around. Anger and jealousy once again boiled over in Din as his eyes set upon the scarf you were wearing. He’s seen that scarf before, but the last person that wore it was Cobb. Din couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

“Where did you get that from?” Din asked, his voice gruff. 

He watched you look down and finger the scarf, the look of innocence on your face not doing it for him. 

“It was Cobb’s,” you replied, a tinge of confusion in your voice. “He gave it to me to keep the sand out of my face when riding back.”

Of course he would give it you. He knew how to get under Din’s skin. 

“Take it off,” Din commanded. 

He watched as you tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him. Din’s breathing grew heavier from your incompetency and unwillingness to do what he said. 

“Take it off,” he repeated, stepping closer until you were a foot away from him. “Or I will.” 

Din saw your eyes grow darker, and smirk spread across your face. His heart beat faster as he took wind of your behavior. You knew what you were doing to him. Din reached down to his vambrace, using the commands to direct the child’s cradle to a separate part of the ship. He didn’t need the womp rat to be around for this. 

Din grabbed your biceps, and shoved you against the nearest crate, noting the sigh that escaped your lips. He wanted you, and he knew that you wanted him as well. That was enough for him to go forward with his plans. 

Din snatched the scarf that was draped across your neck, and threw it across the haul. Out of sight, out of mind. But as soon as it disappeared from your body, Din’s eyes landed on your chest. Your button up shirt was only closed halfway, revealing your cleavage which only made his cock harden even more. He sucked in a breath, and brought his gloved hands to rip open to the remaining of the shirt, the buttons flying and scattering across the haul. 

The Mandalorian admired the way your breasts bounced from the sudden action, and he could tell from your sigh and clenched thighs that you enjoyed it as well. He palmed your breasts, the tits that he’s thought about in the shower, and pinched your nipples, loving the way you threw your head back and closed your eyes in pleasure. The temptation to break his vow and dishonor the Creed has never been stronger than this moment. How he wanted to get his mouth on you, and feel your skin beneath his lips, lick into your mouth, and taste your juices. But he wouldn’t give in. He was angry with you. So why should he give you what you want? 

He leaned his head closer to yours, a mere few millimeters between you two. He squeezed your breasts, groaning while doing so. Oh the things you do to him. 

“Look at me,” he commanded. He watched as your eyelids flutter open, dark with lust, matching his. “These tits are mine.”

Din’s hands traveled down, pulling at your pants and underwear until they pooled around your ankles. He listened to your rapid breathing, the helmet amplifying the sound making it music to his ears. Din gripped your hips and turned you around, pressing the front of you to the crate as he sunk his hands into your ass, massaging the flesh. He leans his helmet forward, close to your ear. 

“This ass is mine,” he growled. He reached his hand down to your core, dipping his fingers into your cunt and relishing in the way your walls gripped them. He pulled them out after a short moment, much to your dismay from the groan you let out. Din brought his hand close to his helmet, examining your wetness drip down his fingers. He couldn’t help but smirk to himself. He used his other hand to pull his aching cock out of the confines of his pants, then using the hand with your wetness to stroke and coat himself with your juices. He suppressed his groan of pleasure, then positioned his cock to your cunt. He pushed in, sheathing himself fully in one quick and fluid motion. Din heard you gasp and moan, and watched your grip on the crate tighten. “And this cunt is mine.” 

That was the last thing he said before setting his fast and rough pace. His hips snapped forward against your ass as he impaled you with his cock. He relished in the feel of your velvet walls, squeezing his cock better than he imagined during those lonely nights in his bunk. Your juices coated his cock, making it easier to slide in and out. Din kept an iron grip on your hips, keeping you from moving too much. He knew that it would cause bruises, but that was the plan. If he couldn’t mark you with his teeth, he could have you sport some black and blues. Your chants of his well known nickname only encouraged him further. Well that, and the the rhythmic banging of your knees against the crate’s wood panels. His armor felt tighter than usual as heat built up with him and sweat began to bead on his brow. Your skin started to glow as sweat was beginning to coat it.  

Din was getting close, he could feel it, but he stopped his thrusts when he saw your hand disappear from the front of the crate to the front of your body. He reached in front, and grabbed your wrist, slamming it back onto the crate. A whimper ripped through your throat. 

“You cum when I tell you to,” Din asserted, before continuing his hard thrusts. 

“Mando,” you screamed, satisfaction and pride flooding over Din. 

He was the one who was making you wither in pleasure. He was the one who was making you scream. He was the one who was driving his cock into your cunt. Not Cobb, not any other man in the galaxy...him. 

He quickened his pace, his orgasm coming fast. Din reached a glove hand in front of you, and started to rub your clit between his thumb and index finger. He grunted when your moan reached his ear, knowing you were feeling just a good as he was. 

“You better cum within the next minute,” Din warned, lowering his voice. “Or I’ll have to do something that I don’t want to do.” 

To be honest, Din was hoping you would cum because he didn’t have a plan if you didn’t. And thankfully you did. Din let out a strangled groan as your cunt squeezed and soaked his cock within seconds of his request. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Din gritted his teeth and gripped your hip harder as his balls tightened up against him. He painted your walls with his seed. He did it. Din marked you and you were now his. 

He didn’t want to pull out, but he also knew you two couldn’t stay here. Din pulled out, turning you around to examine you. He can see through his helmet’s visor that your skin was warm, your breathing was labored, and a slight smile was displayed on your face. Din smirked to himself as he tucked his still semi hard cock back into his pants. 

“Get to the fresher,” Din said, nodding over to it. “Don’t bother changing into anything either. I’ll meet you at my bunk after.” 

“And what are you going to do until then?” you asked as you bent down to pull up your pants and underwear. 

“I have something to take care of,” he replied. 

Din made sure you were in the fresher, before moving to pick up Cobb’s scarf that you obviously forgotten all about. He stared at it for a second, before throwing it in the ship’s incinerator. You wouldn’t miss it. You probably wouldn’t even notice it’s gone. He’ll make sure you’ll be more preoccupied to even think about it. 

[marvelandsuchstuff]

Sleepless Nights and Golden Sunlight (Corpse husband x reader)

A/N: helllllooooo everyone, I think like most of the internet I have been obsessing over this man for the past week and couldn’t help myself. I would however like to take this time to say that I will fully respect this man and if he ever does want this taken down - I will do so :). Anyways I wrote this shit in 12 hours and it’s now 2:45 am lol but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None, unless I can kill you with softness

It was well past 6 am when the sun had crept through the sheer curtains of the room (y/n) lay asleep in. The golden light streamed on to the grey bed in which she was peacefully in her own world. She was curled up around one of the pillows, with a small smile cracking through her soft lips.

In one of the other rooms, a man sat at a desk trying to record a video for the third time in the past four hours. He was growing increasingly furious with the script in front of him, no longer wanting to attempt reading it out. Put it down to the lack of sleeping for more than three hours or the fact that he was pushing himself too hard again with the rapid rate of growth over these past couples of weeks. But what he did know is that he needed to finish this video, however, no matter what he did, he just couldn’t seem to do it.

That’s when he finally gave up and slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him, not noticing how loud it had been. He sighed and looked at the time on the side of the screen and starred as the minutes passed. Great. Another sleepless night had passed him by without a shutter of a thought. That’s when he heard a sleepy girl’s voice from the doorway.  

(y/n) awoke from her peaceful state when she suddenly heard a forceful thump from down the hall. She hurriedly pulled herself up, dazed and confused and still half asleep, slowly gathering her surroundings. The golden sun bursting into the room now blinded her eyes as she tried to look around at where she was. (y/n) put her hand up blocking it from her line of sight and sighed with relief as she realized she was at corpses' house, in his bed. Safe.  

Although this fact comforted her, she still was mildly distressed at the sound she heard moments before. Almost immediately she noticed how she was alone in the king bed, which wasn’t surprising, in fact, it was normal for her. She knew corpses’ sleeping habits often kept him awake until ludicrous hours in the morning and often he would only end up getting a few hours sleep before returning to reality. Often she would have to drag him to bed, only for him to leave once she had fallen asleep in his arms and he made sure she wasn’t worried about him. So, she decided to go find out what was happening and where her boyfriend had gotten to.

She put her hand down and slowly swung herself out of the warm covers onto the cold hardwood floors. She pushed herself off the mattress, steadily gaining her balance and then slowly walking to the door, still very tired from not having enough sleep. She then opened one of the bedroom’s double doors while leaning on it for a bit of support. (y/n) roamed down the hallway, her feet cold from the wood under them, searching for her boyfriend.

She noticed the dark purple glow coming out of his gaming room, which only could mean he was in there. As soon as this realisation occurred, she felt her legs growing even weaker and used her last source of strength to get over to the door frame. She quickly lent herself against it to support herself before she entirely collapsed onto the floor.

Once (y/n) had gathered herself again, she glanced over toward the computer monitor and lo and behold saw corpse staring at something on the screen. He seemed like he was in a different world, taking no notice of the small girl behind him. After about a minute (y/n) built up enough energy to let out a small and soft “hi”.

The chair swivelled around to face her, and a weak smile crept onto corpses’ face, “hey baby”,

However, he soon realised the state (y/n) was in and quickly dashed over to her before she completely fell to the floor.

“Princess, what are you doing awake?” he asked with concern as she sank deep into his chest for some stability.

“Hmmm, I’m ok”

“You sure, because right now you're clinging onto me as if gravity didn’t exist” he chuckled lightly.

“Yeah,” she whispered and giggled a bit, “Anyways I heard a loud noise and wanted to make sure no one had come to kidnap you,”

He laughed again, “Well I’m standing here are I? So I must be fine unless I’ve been given some drug to make me hallucinate the most beautiful person in the world. Which in that case I want to be on this forever.”

(y/n) laughed and smiled into his chest. They both just stood like this for a moment taking in the silence and the warmth of each other. Their breaths aligned creating a bliss in which the earth itself shattered away and nothing else mattered. Two souls becoming more intertwined with each second passing by. Heaven.

Corpse was the one to finally break the silence, softly asking, “Do you want to go back to bed?”

(y/n) nodded into him, “mhm, can you come with me?”

“Of course princess, I wasn’t planning on leaving you anytime soon” he mumbled.

Then suddenly he manoeuvred around her, still making sure she had balance. He carefully picked the girl up bridal style and moved over to turn the lights off. At first, (y/n) was a bit taken aback by this but quickly adjusted to his body and curled into him. She closed her eyes softly caving into the darkness but wanting to stay awake until they got into the bed.

Corpse carried the girl in his arms down the hall, no longer concerned about the video he left or the lack of sleep he had. All that mattered was his wonderful and sweet little girlfriend who kept him sane at the worst of times. He looked down at her and he wondered how she ended up with him.

“Why’d you choose me?” he whispered, not sure if she heard him.

This made (y/n) open her eyes, now full of concern. “Because I love you, I knew it then and I know it now”

They both recounted the night they met. It wasn’t much, the met when poki had invited (y/n) to play a couple of games of among us and he was there. (y/n) remembers instantly feeling overwhelmed by even the few amount of people there. Corpse realised this a couple of rounds into the game after poki kept asking why she was so quiet compared to normal. He had seen her talk in poki’s videos a few times and was wondering the same because she was often more vocal in those videos. So he decided to message her to see if she was ok, seeing the same signs as he does with himself. For some reason (y/n) decided to tell him what was going on in hopes that he could help, knowing that he also struggled with these things.

After that, they immediately became really close and both were happy that they finally found someone who fully understood one another. The rest became history and now they were here, together.

“I love you too. So much,” Corpse said, smiling as he pushed the second of the double doors open. He then walked over to the opposite side of the bed and then carefully laid the girl down on the mattress. He moved the pillow she had been curled up against to make sure her head was supported.

After he put her down he went to the wall with the control panel and lowered the blackout blinds so they wouldn’t be disturbed by the already light sky outside. Then, he went back around to the other side of the bed and climbed on top of the grey sheets. He pulled the covers over both of them and tucked them into (y/n) side to keep her even warmer. Then snaking one hand over her torso and leaving one to play with her hair, he pulled closer to her body

“Are you going to tell me what was that noise I heard now?” (y/n) quietly asked,

“It was nothing, I just got mad at a video I was trying to film”

With this, (y/n) turned over to face him, searching for the emotions on his face. A strange look of sadness and anger and hatred she knew all too well. Very often this was corpses’ permanent emotional state where it is for something like a video or mean tweet, or more often himself. Every time she sees this side of him, it breaks her heart because he, of all the people in the world, definitely doesn’t deserve to feel like this.

The worst part is, however, often she feels as though there is nothing she can do to help. The best way she has found is to be there for him, whenever and whatever he needs because she knows he would do the same for her.

“Can I do anything?”

However, what she didn’t realize was how much she already does to help, just by being there. Because often if she’s happy and doing ok, he would always come back to her. His own personal light in the dark.

“Get some sleep for me baby. That’s all that I want you to do,” He replied, running his hand through her hair.

“Ok, but please stay with me?” she asked as she fell back into her own little world of dreams.

“Of course princess, I wasn’t planning on leaving you anytime soon”