#like its about the spaces between

[baselicoc]

it’s really interesting to me that Gabriel checks in on his brother so much despite how Miguel can often act and that he is in-text called insecure and that he follows along with his various girlfriends interests and that he so often wears so many layers and that he has a cyberspace addiction and that his archetype in cyberspace is just himself (which could be the comic just making it easier for us to know who’s who, but what a boring way to take it). And how willing he is to fight and do good but also ‘neither of my sons were ever worth much in a fight’ and how he asks for help but also ‘i can take care of myself’. do you get me.

[ruporas]

opla inspired!

[fashion4standusers]

Anyway, if I had a nickel for every time a series had six installments that gradually escalated in ridiculousness, only for the sixth installment to end with a universe reboot and the seventh installment to pick up in a new universe where alternate versions of the original characters now exist in the distant past, I'd have two nickels.

One of those series is JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. The other is Riverdale

[lover-of-mine]

911 Hiatus Rewatch and Parallels:

6x09 “Red Flag” -> 6x12 “Recovery” -> 6x15 “Death and Taxes”

[grandcovenant]

who's pulling the strings of the puppet king?

[kit-williams]

Anrir Husbandry

Husbandry tags: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@ms--lobotomy @nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @the-raven-lady

@bispecsual

Edit: forgot to thank @justahuman1757 for help with some of the translations and other help

Song on repeat: Cradles by Sub Urban (also most of the remixes for this SLAP)

tw: smut, yandere, obsessive behavior, manipulation

Anrir cooed at the little human in his arms finishing up singing them back to sleep знішчыць.... знішчыць... His voice carried low and softly. It was naptime... they needed to sleep as it was good for them of course they didn't seem to realize that. His long back hair was tied back into a slightly messy bun as his nearly completely black eyes dart around the pastel colored room just looking for anything wrong. His Dragă wanted to work with children in childcare and perhaps it took a couple of years to get here since he had first found her.

She was so much happier since he had first found her... happy about their bond... no more worry in her eyes... no more stress making her hands tremble or her loosing sleep... no more worrying about her next meal or if her car were to break... no more crying... well no more senseless crying. He puts the child down looking around at the sleeping forms but he cant help but grin as this really was all possible because of him, Anrir purrs softly at the satisfaction of how well he has done his job... and how he has covered his trail...

5 years prior

Anrir was a drifter... he drifted around as he had yet to find his own bonded, which given how some legions seemed to be more inclined to get a bond; with Night Lords being one of the ones with very few "feral" Astartes it was only a matter of time before Anrir would find his. But Anrir in all definitions was a feral Astartes having been unbonded since he arrived forty years ago. However, it was fine as Anrir hadn't spent that time just moping about he spent a majority of his time politicking and reuniting with other Terran Night Lords long dead and of course reuniting with those who were under his knife when they were aspirants and scouts which he affectionately called them his kids.

He was also using this time to take a break, a forced break, from running his warband; not that he could run it right now anyway. But he would mull over plans for when he returned back to his time period... if he did was another thought. His eyes moved up to the sky as he could smell the water gathering in the air. Which meant that the group he was with would start a debate on if they were going to settle down or continue on despite the weather. He did not care too much and decided to wander off to look around at where they were.

He walked out of the tree covering that the group was skulking through as he looked at the abandoned parking lot he had walked out into. It was rotting away neglected and abandoned as the painted lines were faded and practically gone, the pavement was cracked with plants growing through cracks; with the asphalt under his feet turning to gravel as plants come to reclaim this section of human infrastructure. And Anrir... he savored this reclamation of nature and decay of it all. Compared to the prison pit he was born into on the other side of the globe; he had already made his pilgrimage to the eventual site of his birth... a town full of people whose existence was never known as a great chasm of the guilty was there.

But that dark pit in the ground was not there now... there were no babies being born in that dark hellhole... his neck tattoo had a phantom itch as he is reminded why it was put on his neck... as he is reminded that at some point he was truly innocent... he is reminded of the hand gently petting his head... the soft voice cooing at him telling him how brave he was being... as he remembers having tears in his eyes as the ink is shoved into his skin... he gently starts to suffocate the memories of a child long gone and a woman paradoxically long dead and yet had yet to be born. His eyes flick to the far side of the quiet parking lot as a car just sits in the dark. The only other thing in this lot, far from the flickering road light... he could hear the annoying buzz of the light as it flickered... the flick... flick... flick... as it finally goes out. He moves with soft steps towards the vehicle as the summer insects scream their sonorous songs it was almost overstimulating for some of his brothers with how alive this planet felt with no foe to focus down on. Anrir felt his gums itch like he craved an oral inhalant and the way the hair on the back of his neck rose as he wandered closer not giving into the craving.

Anrir had seen many homeless humans both back in his own time and here. His eyes looked through the windows of the car seeing how it was lived in, he could hear the soft breathing akin to how someone was asleep... the slow beat of a heart was barely audible to him as the insects continued to scream their songs. There was nothing special about what he saw as it was a baseline female just buried under an assortment of clothes, a towel, a jacket, and some blanket... a bucket with a strainer lid to collect the impending rain... he chuckled at the cleverness but he understood the need to just survive. He turned to walk back to the others but something rooted him in place. He could practically taste the misery mixing with the rain. His throat tightened as it silently moved in foreign ways but he knew what he was trying to do... to mimic the noises they make at humans.

He lets out a dark chuckle as they were right... it really was something that he would know when it happened. Worry soon festered in his gut as his eyes roamed over her vehicle and while he hardly knew about how it worked he could see the signs of disrepair. His nose wrinkled for a moment as he unclipped his helmet from his hip, slipping it over his head as the rain finally let loose. He listened to the rain slap against the metal roof of the car, the way she moved inside her comfortable cocoon for a moment, and the way water was gathering in the bucket... Anrir had to do something.

You did your best to ignore the Night Lord that was hanging around. Affectionate bastards you were told as you remember those videos of just them being friendly. You shiver at the memory of that one gang member who thought he was so big... being homeless you quickly learned how sleeping near warbands meant that you had to ignore certain things... certain sounds especially at night. Astartes always scared you... you couldn't point to any incident that had happened involving them just that you got bad feelings from them... a certain type of dread. So it wasn't exactly like a fear of dogs but the way they looked and acted they were so human... why were they here... you make yourself look smaller as the Night Lord with what looked like a metal spider on his back sat next to you.

You hear him coo and trill at you trying to get your attention, his head tilting slightly as you could hear the slightly distorted trill to his voice from his helmet, and you did your best to ignore him. Eventually he did leave you alone and you had hoped that would be the last you saw him. But, every day for the next week he kept finding you... he would click and coo at you beckoning you closer with those armored claws of his. It was the last day in the week that you broke and approached him as you chose to fill your car with gas over eating and he had shown up with food. You feel tears gather with each bite as he trills down at you and you feel him hold you close... you hear his purr... you've seen this display online it was a bonding display. You do your best to not choak on the hot food as you can feel tears gather in the corner of your eyes, really the last thing you want is an Astartes bonding to you.

You feel the Astartis petting your head as you eat, trilling at you and you're certain if he wasn't in armor he would be purring. When you look up at him miserably he coos at you trying to sooth the clear distress you were in. His hands flexing each time you try to pull away from him, "You don't want me to be your bonded buddy," You finally speak up and that just breaks something in you and you feel those heavy tears roll down your cheeks even as you try to use the heel of your palm to rub your eyes clean they still fall, "I can't give you anything." Your voice cracks as you admit that.

Anrir sat there silently as you tried to reject the bond… he could feel it fraying at the edges like a lighter had been taken to it. But Anrir was calm even as his entire existence seemed to reel on its axis as you try to push it away. Your voice cracking gave way to the tears that ran down your face, his black eyes darting over your face as baselines crying was familiar to him given what he was but it felt so different… so wrong. Why are you letting her cry Anrir? A soft voice in the back of his mind seems to say. He could feel it fray more and more… but Anrir was aware that when a bond frays… it never attaches back normally. There was also a small high for him as would this be how he tasted death? Not after millennia of being alive just some mortal woman would be the death of him? He would have laughed if it actually broke but he pulled her against him and you did not make the effort to pull away… and so the bond repairs wrong. He did not need anything from you except you. 

How you lean against him trying to hide away. So he was okay if you couldn’t give him anything now. He didn’t expect you to give him anything in the first place… but a wicked thought plants itself in his mind. Perhaps it was old fashioned… after all he watched the radical social changes in a mere 40 years and yet like always the Astartes remained unchanged. But… why couldn’t he provide for you? Anrir was a capable Astartes and he did not survive this long by chance but memories flicker by of how generous others were towards their humans. He grinned darkly as he could recognize the signs now… oh… he had intensely bonded to you… he had read the manuals and grimoires both in person and on the noosphere… he had helped write some of those too… so he knew what to look for in terms of side effects and was filing away mental notes about his deviances. And as much as he wanted to act on those feelings Anrir was patient, he was an Apothacarion after all, and his Dragă needed to be taken care of. He purrs and chirps at her to calm her down and gets her to finish her meal.

Thrones, credits, souls, cash… it was annoying dealing with baselines as most societies revolved around needing a good or currency for things and this was not their reality or time period where refusing an Astartes was suicidal. He noted his lack of desire to skin the man yelling at his Dragă to get him to stop “loitering”. But he, like most Astartes, relied on each other and the complex network and ecosystem they built like a parasite on the infrastructure of what was already there or was it the other way around? The Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists would say they laid out efficient infrastructure… but he found resources; since it was no longer allowed to simply take humans as serfs anymore and just have them live in a base full time… not that the Night Lords had one yet. It would be a few more years till the base was operational and that would be a mustering point for most Night Lords in the area. But Anrir noted how jumpy his precious Dragă got at the idea of getting help from Salamanders or staying in a shelter; he was fine with her choice. He wrinkled his nose as her car was falling apart and he couldn’t fit in it and him being a Night Lord did not help his goal of getting money. However, Anrir had a long reputation having worked in the Consortium with Bile too being a prominent figure in his legion’s hierarchy, no matter how much he tried to stay out of the politicking, so when the Alpharii approached him he wasn’t too surprised. 

There were treaties and edicts that any Astartes had to agree to if they wanted to stay near the humans. Besides the obvious of not killing any humans; which before Anrir was bonded was a surprisingly hard ask, but they were not allowed to mettle with them. Technology was to be kept away from them at all costs, no extending their life spans, no augmetics beyond simple necessary prosthetics, and a few others. It all made sense as it was clear they were not ready at all for the horrors of the wider galaxy… no they would not play a hand into accidentally smothering humanity in the cradle because they helped them reach the stars earlier than they were ready for. But just like how human killers existed… and Night Lord trafficker Hunts happened… there was always some bending and breaking of these rules.

The Alpharii couldn’t help mettle in the affairs of the baselines, it was their legion’s expertise, they were information brokers and information hiders… they modified records to hide the sudden birth of a child from a woman and a Astartes… to all the way of covering up when forbidden technology falls into the hands of baselines and there needs to be a raid. They had their fingers in many pies as the saying goes… and Anrir could not play the moral high ground for their request. They weren’t supposed to extend the baselines lives… there was the crude method of giving them a transfusion of Astartes blood and hope they survive all the way to getting the chemicals and components needed for rejuvenation treatments. The latter took time to get what they needed as they could only synthesis so much being limited to what was only on this one planet; and it was hard to keep the Iron Hands from getting eager in “helping” them be able to colonize the Sol system. 

But… Anrir looked down at the old corrupt man. Such greedy creatures humans could be and Anrir could never be like his kin who were able to see themselves as being above humanity… Anrir was far too aware of his own humanity and also his own lack of humanity too. “How do I know it will work?” The old man interrupts Anrir’s explanation of what he will be doing in transplanting his heart, “You could be some… con artist.” He says with malice in his frail voice.

Anrir never liked nobles… and he was always surprised at how… self important they could be. His smooth voice answers the question before one of the Alpharii can speak, “My reputation,” He had asked the Alpharii before this and he was not bonded to any of them… he was very much a pawn that the Alpharii weren’t ready to loose yet, “your… companions wouldn’t have gotten me if they doubted my skills. The heart is made for you so there is no chance of rejection.” He says truthfully as it was child's play growing the organ for him.

Anrir voxes one of the Alpharii, “As for my payment for this?” He hisses letting his displeasure bleed through as how dare he speak to Anrir in such a way.

“Everything is set up in ways that won’t tip off the government officials to the sudden influx of wealth. And conveniently set up so that if you choose to help us again…” 

Anrir waved his armored hand over his shoulder as his medical mechadendrites unfolded like a spider on his back, “Yes yes you lot have me for several surgeries,” He goes through the process of setting everything for fine movements and working on humans, “But please be aware should anything go wrong in the payments that I can be quite spiteful.” He threatens and enjoys the place of power he is able to come from given how specialists are in such short supplies here and he is certain there is only one other Consortium member on the planet… he knows his expertise is invaluable he is certain he is on many lists to be kept alive.

“Of course Anrir.” Is all one says and that was good enough as Anrir headed into the prepared room.

You were happy that Anrir returned as he did keep you safe and maybe you were feeling those good vibes that people always say they get around Astartes. But now? You looked at what was holding out to you with apprehension. You’re sure that it was a thousand dollars in his hand and you felt hesitant to take it from him as no one just gives people money and not expecting something back… your spine crawls at a memory… He just sighs looking at you passively and perhaps a little annoyed, “Dragă. Go get your car looked at and get it fixed.” He says and you take the money from him as your AC had died and you’re certain that also meant your heating was gone… “Unless,” Your eyes returned to his face as your eyes picked up the bit of white at the roots of his sideburns, “You want to get a bigger vehicle?”

“But I can’t-” You start.

“Don’t worry about money for a second Dragă.” He says putting his hands on your shoulders.

You squirm under his gaze as you considered rejecting it as Anrir gave you such feelings that there was something else he was after… then again you never felt truly comfortable around Astartes… always a lingering sense of dread but… “Maybe… maybe we get something you can fit in as well. Wouldn’t that be nice?” You say softly as you’re certain those cars are far beyond what you can afford and from what you heard basically never break down. 

You hold your breath for a moment as Anrir cups your face, you could hear him trill at you, as he grinned down at you with a smile that you’re certain the devil himself would envy, “What a thoughtful Dragă.” Was all he cooed at you.

After that, with much fussing from him, he made you use the money to stay in a motel for a week and you don’t remember when the last time you ate so much food. Anrir in the meanwhile took care of things. You were torn on letting him do such as wasn’t this the reason you had a fallout with your family? Your hands shake at the memories… he ruined your life. Yet while you’re certain Anrir is doing the same thing… it feels different. Anrir only suggested what you use the money for never using it to tell you what to do… Anrir confused you but you took comfort in the thought that he wanted something from you that he could get at your absolute lowest… everyone says bonds are precious things so maybe you should trust him more.

Anrir makes sure he always has enough money on him as he was making sure that there was a positive association in your mind that he was able to provide for you. The fuss you made when he got the car customized so that you could live out of it as long as you wanted, he hopped it wouldn’t be much longer, but it was your choice and all he could do was nudge his Dragă. The excitement he felt rush up his spine when he heard you say “Anrir” in a specific tone… a tone he associated with his Dragă needing something… Dragă needed him to provide. Sometimes you were like a skittish animal only staying for the exchange but sometimes you lingered like an animal and he could get what he wanted from you too. He felt that dopamine rush as you tolerated his touches, the joy he felt when you let him cup your face, how loudly he purred as you let him nuzzle you, petting your head, or rubbing your back. He could still see the hesitation in your eyes… he could tell you weren’t as (warp blind) (bond blind) as other humans were and Anrir is fine with that in fact it made this all the more enjoyable for him.

Winter always comes too soon and once again Anrir brings up places you can stay over the colder months and as hard as you try you still can’t get rid of the feelings that if you acquiesce he will want something. Anrir himself is disappointed that you wont ask him for much more; he does use winter to get something he does want. He finally gets to hold you for as long as he wants, usually your whole sleep cycle. He’s slept in far worse spots and just being a little cramped is hardly anywhere near the list of worst rests he has had. He purrs loudly as you’re glued to his side or his chest at night. Cooing to you as you drift off each night with a full belly in his arms. Its hard not to drift off with how he purrs and the rhythmic beating of his twin hearts… this feels like it’s going to be an easy winter for once so of course you get sick as a dog.

“Poor Dragă.” Anrir’s voice breaks you through your sick haze as the chills don’t help but Anrir being so warm helps. “I know you won’t like this suggestion but as a health specialist I do recommend that perhaps it is time for you to live inside more regularly again?” You can barely hear the quiet engine over the Heater going, Anrir not allowing you to fuss about anything right now once more saying he had it under control, “Arata mizerabil... (Miserable looking…)” He says in Nostroman letting his tongue click as you bury yourself closer to his chest, feeling those ports dig into your skin, “At least something temporary, yes?” He says sounding a little worried, “Wouldn’t that be nice? A temporary place to stay till you find what you want to do?”

“Daycare.” You croak out.

“Hmm?” Anrir looks down at you cocking his head to the side surprised you answered him. 

“I want to take care of kids. I like taking care of kids. Don’t know why… so I want to start a daycare.” You say but you soon get weepy, “But who is going to let me do that. Look at me! I’m living in my car running away from my family and I can’t -” You stop your distressed rant as you cough and your nose plugs up again making it hard for you to breath and you can’t help but squirm in Anrir’s grip.

“Shh Dragă, I’ll take care of  you.” Anrir says softly a uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice you weren’t expecting from a Night Lord, “You don’t need to worry anymore, Dragă.” Again it’s a soft and warmth to his voice you didn’t know he could have, “Do you trust me?” He asks in a tone you have trouble reading. 

Bonds are supposed to be good things… that’s what everyone says… you have a companion for life… and you can tell that they get so much out of what we give them as they were clearly made for something far more violent. But… did you trust Anrir. No… you did not trust him as that feeling never goes away… “What do you want Anrir?” You finally say after a minute of silence.

“You, Dragă.” Anrir says quickly breathlessly.

Again you lay there silently thinking… you didn’t know what he wanted… was it really just being with you? You’ve been with him for months at this point and you couldn’t figure out what he wanted. You did research on bonds from what little you could find and everything kept coming back to just wanting to keep their bonded alive and safe. You were scared to let someone in your safe little world but you were so tired of keeping everything so tight to your chest. Maybe it was because you were sick but you nod and let out a heavy sigh softly saying, “I trust you Anrir.”

His reaction was immediate as he pressed his cheek to yours and you could feel the purring in your teeth as it was so loud, your finger bones felt like they were vibrating, but you didn’t feel the quick kisses that he leaves on your skin. You whimper at the sudden affection. It was anrir’s quirk as he was odd with his affection as whenever you would seek him out for affection he would smother you in his affection but you were okay with it because it was on your terms… your gut wouldn’t stop at the feeling that sometimes it was on his terms luring you in… He presses a kiss to your forehead trilling, his accent thick, “I don’t want you to worry any more my Dragă. I will take care of everything.” His black eyes seem to glitter in delight as he makes his declaration. And you just let go of that tension a bit more.

You don’t know how Anrir found this place, it had a horribly short lease but you knew that it was just to get you out of the weather… you’re certain this place wasn’t built for Astartes in mind so usually that meant they weren’t allowed. You guessed that the landlord looked the other way if said Astartes was paying in cash. It was small and cramped... but it was warm and you could store more than just a bit of food. You were sitting in the tub as Anrir sat on the side shirtless as his hands were massaging shampoo into your hair. You didn't need help with your hair but that didn't stop you from leaning into his hands as he helped you feel clean.

Anrir chuckled at your gentle groaning and moaning as it was clear you were enjoying yourself. He enjoyed helping you feel this way helping you clean and take care of you in this small way... he shivered as he was cleaning his Dragă... he wrapped his Dragă in a nice fluffy towel... he carried his Dragă to the bedroom and savored the laugh that left your mouth as he just tossed you onto the bed with a bounce.

You just laid there, eyes closed, enjoying yourself... sure there was only one bed which was fine as you had spent most of the winter snuggling up to Anrir in the car, it was not the most comfortable mattress in the world... the apartment was quiet...no it was never quiet not with the thin walls... but Anrir was quiet. You became aware of how you were just laying naked on the bed... alarms were going off in your head as you feel his smooth hands run over your knees, feeling his thumbs push into the side as he spreads your legs open slowly. This wasn't normal... and yet this felt like what everything was building up too... but you were always told that bonds were selfless things, right?

Your skin trembles as his hands move over your drying flesh, your breathing shivers, you can feel the bed shift as Anrir climbs onto it. Your throat bobs as you swallow the nervous energy but your eyes open as you feel the bare skin of his legs as he had divested himself of his pants. Anrir's silent still as he presses his scarred lips against your cheek, his body leaning over yours as he settles between your legs, and you feel his hand move to your chin to slowly turn you to meet him. His lips dragging against your flesh as the scarred flesh presses against your own lips. You were close enough that you could tell that his eyes were not fully black... you could see the dark blue of his iris darting with micromovements as he took in your face. But, you could see the predator in his eyes... but it was something more the term hyper-predator comes to mind because what monsters would someone like Anrir need to hunt?

Anrir presses his mouth to yours more and you close your eyes allowing the kiss to deepen. Anrir had been nothing but good to you... but you worry... would he use this against you? You desperately hope that he wouldn't. "Mina..." His voice rumbles like thunder as his hands drag across your flesh in a way that feels dominant and possessive. You can't stop the shuddering moan that leaves your mouth as his mouth moves against the front of your neck, licking the way your throat moves in its swallowing motion. "Toate ale mele… (All mine...)" He says whispering to you in a language that you don't know, "Fiecare parte din tine… toată a mea… trupul și sufletul tău. (Every part of you... all mine... your body and your soul.)" He says again as Anrir presses his cock against your entrance. His mouth continuing its worship of your neck and chin as you open your eyes slightly and just watch Anrir with lidded eyes. He cups your face as his tongue presses hard on your lower lip before pushing his tongue back into your mouth just kissing you hard.

You knew you had fringe thoughts about Astartes... Anrir was just proving to you one thing... that they were far too human to ignore. Far too human and far too predatory... you could never get that feel good emotion from Anrir... from any Astartes really. They were all predators... they were man made monsters made to fight monsters that you didn't know would exist beyond the silver screen of Hollywood or the writings of horror writers. He pulls his mouth away trilling at you and pausing when he sees the look on your face. You were looking at a predator looking at prey a malicious looking thing that tried to play the part of a friendly thing... a wolf playing the role of a dog. "Anrir."

"Yes Dragă." He says as a hand cups your face.

"What do you want?" You again ask... because... you don't think he's lying about the bond but this wasn't normal? You felt everything rushing anxiously to a point.

"You, Dragă." He says devotedly.

You were tired... so tired of being on your own for years before Anrir came. Oh how much Anrir had helped beyond just the money he gave you and the food... just being here... even if it was wrong... even if... you were so tired. You pull Anrir into a kiss as you didn't want to think anymore! You didn't want to worry any more... you whimper as Anrir just purrs loudly as you decide to let Anrir take care of it... take care of you... just for today you tell yourself as you melt into the embrace.

You feel the slight discomforting sensation of your walls spreading open as his cock slowly pushes in. When it becomes too much your hand or foot pushes against his chest which makes him stop till your brow stops furrowing and you for him to continue. This continues until his hips are flush with yours and Anrir hisses in delight, "Atât de strâns atât de bine cu mine… draga mea… a mea. (So tight so good to me... my dear... mine.)" You once more don't understand him but you decide to not worry about it as he starts moving. Your thighs burn slightly at the stretch to have them spread open wide for Anrir to thrust into you. Your eyes close as you focus on the feeling and enjoy that he doesn't ask you to look at him but that doesn't stop him from talking, "Mă simți fată frumoasă? (Do you feel me pretty girl?)" He trills in that unknown tongue, "Te concentrezi pe penisul meu din interiorul tău? (Are you focused on my cock inside of you?)" He asks something else perhaps not realizing or caring that you don't understand him.

He picks up the pace as he pants down at you and you just yowl and moan in pleasure. Porn making everything feel so fake when real sex sounds so unsexy at times but you had no need to make things sound sexy or be perfect. You could hear Anrir chuckle at an unflattering noise you make as he slams his hips into yours again making you repeat it. Eventually things feel tighter and more anxious as Anrir tilts you slightly so his cock pushes into you at a downward angle and you just laugh at the unflattering squeak and squawk that you make. Anrir laughs with you at all those weird and all those distinctively you vocalizations but you just don't care as no one is telling you that you're being unappealing... you throw your head back and arch up as you earned the right to not worry. You moan loudly moaning his name as you feel so good! You earned this reward! You deserve this... you deserve to just let go... you orgasm with little fan fair... just a simple gasp.

You feel so good... everything feels so good as Anrir continues to chase his release, the feeling of a bed against your back, the fuzzy climbdown from an orgasm, the oily drop of sweat from Anrir that lands on your shoulder, and the comforting stutter from him that stutter causes you to open your eyes to watch his brow furrow and you watch how surprisingly expressive he gets as he cums.

The apartment is mostly quiet... as quiet as you can get with thin walls... you lay there with him not thinking about anything... not thinking as you feel his cock softening against your inner thigh. He lets out a loud breath as he lays back in bed in his spot as you meanwhile are pushing away the worry about the consequences of sleeping with Anrir. You cuddle against his side, his arm wrapping around you, you feel the cum ooze out of you ... you're still tired of thinking... you're so tired of it... so tired of worrying why and what Anrir was doing for money... You put your head against his chest over his hearts ignoring the discomfort of the ports against your face... you just listen to the way his hearts beat.

Present day

You were in a much better spot than when you were a couple of years ago... you actually came into money, no it wasn't a rich distant relative dying but it was another person you had camped with when you were homeless. They had actually won the lottery and were being smart with it, which you think was more so their Ultramarine had helped in making smart choices. Though you had your suspicions... the Alpharii... a few seem to come by every few months some to coo at the kids, eager to find a bonded, and some to talk with Anrir as you watched them take containers from your home. But being given money you sudden just kept finding yourself with more money and it was stupid how much money you got after investing some of it... you didn't want to question it and Anrir was very good at distracting you.

Oh speaking of Anrir... he got you so many gifts. He would still give you random bouts of cash but he was finally acting more and more like how a bonded Astartis is supposed to act. You also were seeing how talented he was with his hands as besides his occupation you discovered his macabre hobby that all Night Lords seem to have... bone scrimshawing and taxidermy. You could point out all the time that he acted like a normal bonded Astartis and yet at the same time... how many gestures were more. You got outfits, jewelry, wines, your current house, and hell even your job you know he had a hand in financing... it spiraled out of control with his gifts that your friends noticed and asked who your 'sugar daddy' was or rather if he had any friends.

You smile warmly and wave goodbye as the last child finally gets picked up. You head back inside letting out a soft exhale and start picking up the room not getting very far into cleaning up when Anrir wraps his arms around you and purrs into your shoulder... purring into where he tattooed you years ago. You feel him give a playful tug onto the choker collar that he made for you, expensive thing and you know he liked you wearing it. You were lucky that no one asked you what Anrir was... everyone just assumed he was a Raven Guard...

"I can smell your worry Dragă." He says nipping your earlobe.

"I'm just tired Anrir."

"Then lets go home." He kisses your cheek.

"But I have stuff to pick up-"

"And this is why we hire others to clean," He says gentle cocking his head to the side, "You're worried about something." Anrir takes the toy from your hands as you pick at the seams.

You let out a heavy sigh bringing your thumb to your lips, "I'm just scared everything is about to go wrong." Anrir takes your hand to stop you from biting your nails.

"And if it does... I will take care of it." Anrir says with such certainty and authority that makes you believe him.

The breath in your chest you let out with a heavy sigh, "Okay." You nod.

He tugs on your choker bringing you close for a kiss as he trills softly, "I will always take care of you my frumoasă dragă (beautiful darling)." And you chose to believe it.

[mrsthunderkin]

What would you do if you found yourself in a realm of magical beasties and this big burly wizard in a cable-knit sweater pulls up on you with his dumb accent and a grouchy tude.

[coolnonsenseworld]

A little promo with my little obsession on the side...........

Reminder all items are shipped from Poland - for details on shipping times check out FAQ or send me a private message!

 mmezzy.bigcartel.com

[hylianane]

Do you think. That after Sanji asked Zoro to kill him. He took a moment wonder if, had Kuina lived to adulthood, at the end of their journey, would whoever killed Mihawk first have to fight the other to protect their title? Do you think the next time they fought after Sanji’s request, Kitetsu would cut just a little too close to Sanji’s throat, because her master was too preoccupied thinking, would I have been able to do it? Kill her, if it came to that? For my dream? and later when he’s carefully wiping Sanji’s blood off his blade, do you think, that maybe he would think- the dream was hers before it was mine. Would I have felt betrayed, then, if she killed me? Or proud? Pleased? Happy?

When Sanji interrupts his thoughts to say, what the hell has got you so distracted? Am I too boring for you to take seriously? do you think Zoro would glare at him in silence cause there’s no way for him to articulate that he’s never taken anything more seriously in his life.

[blood-orange-juice]

More Childe analysis for the gods of Childe analysis.

While I definitely headcanon the boy as a person with a PTSD, I think a lot of his traits that people in fandom interpret as signs of troubled personality are just an archaic system of values.

Honour and glory being more important than compassion, an open fight being more honourable than scheming, etc.

He was trained by a 500+yo fae being, it's only natural.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

bro the feminine wiles aren’t even a joke like. im with that anon who thought hellfire gala charles was a woman when they first saw him bc same, that design is insaaaane (/pos). how could u not think that when u see it lmfao. idk whose choice it was to give him a corset but the hourglass figure + female coded jawline combo do not lie. i saw it on pinterest and i was like ohhh don’t lie to me i know an anime girl when i see one- WAIT PROFESSOR X????

and that’s not even to mention movieverse charles ofc. we’ve all seen james mcavoy and his big sparkly kawaii anime eyes, i shouldn’t have to say it. charles xavier is never beating the allegations, i fear

gonna need this ask hung in the louvre i fear

[luck-of-the-drawings]

POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.

[moeblob]

They're soulmates in every single universe and I miss them at the most random times.

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

i would like to say thank you penelope scott for giving a girl’s always right to the world in this time of need (pearlescentmoon is being mistreated in the life series again)

[theology101]

A Simple Financial Decision HFY - 1/3

Aboard the Command Ship Mother of Invention

>>> FTL JUMP SUCCESS

>>> BEGINNING SYSTEM SURVEY

>>> ERROR; INTERFERENCE

>>> ANALYZING INTERFERENCE

>>> CHEMICAL AND FISSION EMISSIONS DETECTED

>>> ERROR. PARAMETER ‘uninhabited’ NOT MET

Junior Commander Wa’l Hildnid was not having a good first night on duty. Despite serving on the bridge crew several times, tonight - or what passed for it in the carefully controlled light system meant to match their circadian rhythm - was the first night that Hildnid had command of the bridge. Which of course meant that the first (and hopefully only) unexpected problem came up on his shift. Although perhaps the Celestials were playing a joke on him - after all, the fierce and ruthless Foreman Wa’l Sonogth in charge of this operation, was his uncle. 

After a firm rapt on the door and announcing his presence, the door was opened from the other side. Already - or perhaps still - awake, he was hunched over with one of his three eye stalks on a different display. “Report,” he said simply.

“Capt-“ He cringed, reminding himself he was no longer in the Navy, “Master Foreman, - one of our long range probes has encountered an error.”

The question hung for a moment - Sonogth turned one eye towards his nephew. “And?” he asked dryly.

“Oh! Apologies uncl- sir. The system-“

“Which system, Junior Captain?” Foreman Sonogth interrupted, crossing his bulky arms over his chest and foremen’s pin. “Our charter is to strip mine any system within a hundred square parsec region. So far, we have sent out four hundred drones and most have already reached their secondary target.”

“Of course, sir, sorry sir.” 

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again - which system?”

Grimacing at failing to answer with his apology, Hildnid was pleased the correct screen was ready. “The star has been codenamed as ZN0-52081, sir, and the error was unexpected life form contact.” Songoth’s eyestalk returned to its central monitor at that.

“Two ice giants and gas giants, an asteroid belt, a habitable planet, and a deathworld, on top of a few dozen barren moons…” his uncle thought aloud, his voice sonorous as he dropped into a contemplative tone. “Too remote for pirates, too much work for colonizers, and not near anyone who could’ve taken it…” 

The eyestalk came back up. “Were the life signature Bioforms?”

“No, no sir.” He knew that one, at the very least. There were several ways to tell if one of the Old One’s children was lurking, and none had been present. “What little evidence we have at the moment suggests the usage of traditional, albeit old, spacecraft. No psionic resonance or evidence of interstellar gas manipulation.”

The eyestalk bobbed a nod. “Good, at least we won’t need to deal with any damned Citay.” Wa’l Sonogth sighed, leaning back in his chair and finally turning all three of his eyes to his nephew. “They’re either smugglers or political dissidents illegally occupying our territory. If it’s smugglers, we can pay them off and give them one of our empty systems, if they’re rebellious colonists…”

Wa’l Hildnid swallowed so hard that it seemed to travel through his neck and into his shoulders and chest. 

At that, his uncle laughed. “Don’t get squeamish on me, boy! Your mother told me about what a brave military man you are, don’t tell me you never killed before?” The black of his sclera seemed to grow even darker, “if it’s easier on your soul, I’ll make it an order. It’s a simple financial decision.” 

“Yes, Master Foreman.”

“Good. Send the probe to its next target, and…” The left eye moved back towards its screen, “order ED-3 to move in. Clan Gis also were a gang of firebreathers…”

“If that will be all, sir?”

“That will be all”

Aboard Mining Ship Salinonk

Captain Ghis Halnfur was looking forward to an extremely profitable day. 

In charge of “ED-3” - Excavation and Demolitions Team 3 - and the seven ships that made up that command. Two of them were traditional deep space mining ships, barely a hundred meters long, three more were of the wide bowed transport ships that would carry full loads for processing, two hundred and twenty meters long and capable of safely transporting its precious cargo without additional protection. And of course, his flagship, half again the size of the transports and the most heavily armed, was to act as the command and operations hub for the mining operation, as well as transporting any workers or engineers to ground-based projects - in this case, a legion of Galfrei-class combat units and a platoon of enhanced mining equipment retrofitted into combat-ready suits. And of course, the final ship, and Halnfur’s personal addition to ED-3 - the screening ship.

Taken from his days in the Navy, the idea of point defense protection against fightercrafts and gunships would also work when it came to asteroid mining. Halnfur himself captained the first one deployed, and saw to his immense delight that it could cut through those asteroid fields like air… it simply made it harder to collect them afterward - so instead his poor Lii’lya had been reduced to operations like this, where collateral damage was expected. 

Blinking out the white that always came from leaving faster than light, he kept his eyes on the stellar horizon while his communications officer began a survey. “Near distance, clear. Middle distance, clear. Far distance… occupied.”

“Occupied?” Ghis Halnfur’s second in command, Ak’no Jel, asked as he moved to take a better look at the display.

“Yes ma’am,” comms responded. “By… a battle, it looks like,” she paused, another bright flash of light from the viewport, this time significantly smaller and at range. “Yes, it’s a battle, ma’am. The fission signature we just picked up was equivalent to one of our class-4 explosives.”

“Who’s fighting?” Halnfur felt obligated to ask, if no one else would.

“It’s hard to tell from this range, sir, but I’m seeing two distinct ship design styles, maybe three.”

“Are you ready to go in, Captain?” Jel asked, back behind his command chair.

He surveyed the scene for a moment longer, tapping his chin dramatically. “Yes… I believe we shall. Navigations, plot me a skip-jump, pull back a hundred fifty kilometers from the plotted edge of the battle. I want them to know we’re there, but don’t fire yet.” He’d never believed Sonogth’s predictions - and he knew who was behind this whole damn thing - the Citayans. If he could get proof, solid evidentiary proof, that they had not only moved into the Celestia Republica Castelleum, and that they fired first, it would be the airtight justification they needed to finally wipe the Citayans off the galactic map, then their unevolved Citay vermin, and then all the other Bioforms. At least the Citayans didn’t use bloody animals for space-craft.

The flash was proportionally weaker this time - but the battle was not what he expected.

Aboard the War Ship Antioch

Aleksandrya Sokolov-Meyer of the United Nations of Terra and Venus Navy, and captain of the Zeus-class Antioch, was having a terrible day. “Status!” she barked, leaning over the massive command table and wincing at each new red mark on her ships. And they weren’t even supposed to be her ships! “I need those torpedo tubes unjammed!” she yelled to no one in particular.

“Torpedos still down, ma’am, repairs underway!”

“Rio’s Pride is requesting additional firing support!”

“Acknowledged, patch me over to the captain.” It wasn’t looking good for Rio’s Pride. The only destroyer she still had on her left flank, Rio was built for capital ship combat, and the swarm of Jovian Stinger and Biter drones that had just polished off her support ship. “Captain Holt,” Meyer said when she saw a flicker in her periphery. 

“Damn, Meyer, its a bloody mess that Gilly left us, isn’t it?” Despite herself, she let out a low chuckle, glancing up through the loose strands of red hair to look at her friend’s face on the screen. He wasn’t looking good, behind him the devastation of his ship was obvious, lights flickering and a disturbingly loud shudder. She was tempted to pretend that this was a simulation again, that this wasn’t real and she had enough time for a clever comeback.

But it was real this time. And with the death of Commodore Gilroy Faux and High Captain Tsoss, Aleksandrya was in command.

And she was about to kill a friend.

“Holt, we can’t send anyone to rescue you,” she said solemnly, turning back to her display and drawing her intentions. “If you yaw fifty degrees starboard and a few clicks further out-“

“I can hit the damn nest.”

“We’ll cover you for as long as we can.”

“Yes ma’am, over and out.” And just like that, exposing itself to more fire and making the battered destroyer even more of a target, Rio’s Pride followed orders. The swarm of drones saw that and gave chase, their hive programming convincing their fellows of better prey than the main battle group. No doubt some kid would notice and correct the mistake eventually, but it wouldn’t be immediate and every second counted.

“Comms Officer Henri, order picket group one to chase those fuckers, then patch me into the rest of the fleet.” The situation had already changed radically from the last time she checked - the enemy formation, surrounding them in a rough U, had begun to collapse inward on the port side as they moved in for the kill, while the automated Jovian ships - primarily their smaller ships though there were two cruisers in there. The Caliphate of Mars was stubbornly holding the rear line as a firing position, uncharacteristically cautious - especially compared to the Jovian Brillenschlangen, of all people - and the ship they were chasing, the only damn reason they were here, the Samel-Class Man of War Big Tex which should’ve been on death’s door, had yet to make an appearance. The only benefit to the situation was that another Jovian carrier had gotten speared through by a CAT-7 coilgun.

Again, the flicker in her periphery, again she began to speak. “Tighten up, those drones are going brainless in a few minutes and I don’t want any of them flying blind in between my ships, you hear? Good - keep your CAT-1s well-oiled, I want you all to coordinate on deflecting incoming projectiles” She glanced up, looking at the faces on her screen. Only thirty-three of the seventy-four ships that came out to Jupiter were still active, and soon it would be thirty-two. “Let’s see Rio be proud one last time and on my mark, I want complete offensive saturation on these targets,” Meyer selected them on her display for them.

Holt’s face popped up, his ship even more damaged with only the emergency lights active and a nasty gash on the side of Holt’s face. Meyer wondered how he got it - she figured that she’d never know. “On your orders, Admiral.”

Despite herself, she smirked. If she could manage to salvage this… but now was not the time to think of her career. Not when she was staring at the one who would give it to her. “Give ‘em hell.” And with a triumphant final firing of its massive primary canon, Rio’s Pride unleashed a two-hundred-ton rod of tungsten-depleted uranium alloy shell at a low, but not insignificant, percentage of the speed of light. The Nest - the hangar and control point for all the drones in the ether - was there one moment. The next, there was a blinding streak of white-yellow fire cutting straight through the thing, and then it began a cascade of errors as things meant to be held securely were suddenly and violently released.

Even knowing it was coming, she braced herself for the violent jerk of the main cannon. “Fire!” a second streak of light emerged, then another and another as dozens of missiles and high-category coil guns were launched at once - not targetting the battleships closest to them, but the undamaged secondary line. Expecting the luxury of a near-endless supply of drones the Jovians had programmed to make suicide rushes to intercept traditional and nuclear ordinance, the Martians were caught off guard by this sudden weakness in their defenses. Already, Aleksandrya could see their CAT-1s and teslogats ready for dealing with this, but not all at once and not nearly fast enough. And every second mattered.

And then, emerging off her starboard side, was a fleet of seven, massive ships. She had a moment of absolute shock and surprise. What? How did they move like that? But that quickly faded when the lead ship, a massive thing as long as her Zeus but much, much larger and heavier, rammed directly into Rio’s Pride.

Aboard Mining Ship Salinonk

“Blasted!” Captain Ghis Halnfur shouted, standing to his full two-meter height, his eyestalks pulled in tight to the skull. “Jel, I want to know what the hell is going on, Comms, tell the flotilla to open fire.”

“Captain-“ 

“They set a trap for us, Jel. I don’t know how, but they knew we were there...”

“Captain…”

“A damn trap, and Sonogth sent us-“

“Captain!” Jel said it forcefully enough that others stared - only for a moment before they risked one of her eyestalks finding them. “None of those ships exist in our records.”

“What?”

“They’re unknown configuration,” Jel repeated.

“I know what unknown configuration means, commander, what I meant was-“ One of the five ships closest, and turned directly to face Halnfur’s force, exploded as a few shots lanced from one of his transports. And at that, he grinned. “Ah, nevermind. We seem more familiar with their configuration now. No shields? How did they even make it through FTL?”

The Captain and Commander watched the battle for a moment, before Halnfur finally sat down in his chair, watching as the ships - and there were indeed three distinct designs, began to create a new line of battle. Clearly, whatever battle they had been fighting seemed to be forgotten against a superior enemy. A feral smile colored his face before Jel said something that made his heart stop.

“What if this is their home system and we made first contact?”

Aboard the War Ship Antioch

“I don’t care what you say, but that arschloch on this line, now!” Aleksandrya looked up just in time to see another CAT-9 shot get mostly disintegrated before whatever melted slag could be reformed in the coldness of space. “Come on you martian bastard, come on…”

“I assure you, ma’am, that Jamil MacCready is not here!” High General Sakira Morrison of the Jovian Coalition said. At least the fotze had picked up, which was more than could be said for that Martian Coward. “But the Martian troops have been placed under my temporary command while they recieve humanitarian repairs, as-"

“Humanitarian? He’s a murderer!”

“As we were given the right to by treaty. It was your forces under Commodore Faux that an illegal-“

“Halst den Mund! - Euphrates, Flaming Sword,” the two captains flickered on screen and this time, she did look at them. One clearly favored more of the Arab side of the “TexArab” people of Mars, while the other was more ambiguous - both were men, and oh what she wouldn’t give to hear them complain about being subordinate to two women. “One of those energy balls is coming at you both, nadir-starboard. I want to see how big of a coil shot it takes to defuse. General Morrison, are your crews in formation ready for a massed volley?”

“The battleships, yes, but it’ll take the drones-“

“Comms, patch me into all ships,” Aleksandrya said with certainty she didn’t have. Removing her officer’s cap to fix her hair, she instead tossed the damn thing away, pulled out her pins, and shook out her hair. If she was gonna die fighting an unknown evil from beyond God knows what, she wasn’t going to do it by regulation. “This is acting Admiral Aleksandrya Solokov-Meyer of the Antioch - on my first mark, coordinate Coil fire onto this target,” she tapped it on her display, “Upon my second mark, fire traditional ordinance - third fire nuclear. Ready… mark.”

There was the familiar lunge backward as the gun fired, joined in a loose arrowhead formation with the broken hulk of the Nest acting as their anchoring point. While not all ships could fire given the angle, the effect was all that she could’ve hoped for. As the first rounds made contact, they began to superheat, melt, and vaporize as before… but then the second, third, and fourth were all landing in the same spot too. And then, that etheric blue bubble that surrounded those ships began to bend inwards with a burning red fury… until it couldn’t bend anymore. The rounds hadn’t even all made their target before she called “Mark!” 

This motion was more subdued, as the still working torpedo bays launched too - straight into the hole they had just created in the shield, and not just the shield - somehow in that stream of light, they’d cracked the hull. Meyer imagined that the follow up missiles didn’t do much for the ship’s internals either, and this wouldn’t be much better. “Mark!” The barrier was already starting to close up, the cruiser was still opening fire… and then the nuclear missiles got inside the ship. Several dozen missiles exploded on the exterior of the shield in massive shows of light, but the dozen or two that made it underneath the shields before detonating?

For a brief moment, Jupiter had its own sun. And then the shield burst like an overfilled balloon.

“I want confirmation the second your guns are ready for another volley, we’re hitting him next.” She looked back at her display of Captains… having more faces with proportionally even more empty spots didn’t thrill her, but she knew the bastards could die. And that was good enough. “High General, I want an update on those drones, and for the love of God, someone get Jamil MacCready - or at least his ship!”

Aboard Mining Ship Salinonk

His flotilla was sent to pacify the whole system, Ghis Halfnur thought ruefully as he watched his last transport ship get destroyed. It was just him and the Screener left. “Jel?”

The woman had been trying to help coordinate fire with the weapon’s commander but came at his command. “Captain?”

“We never managed to do our full recon,” he said moreosely. It was his own fault, his own overconfidence. Removing his captain’s lapel from his uniform, he handed it to Jel. “Take one of our shuttles, take as much non essential personnel as possible, and then complete a survey of this system before reporting to your commanding officer.”

“Sir- that’s-“

“Foreman Wa’l Sonogth will want to know about this. And if you’re right about this being their native system…” Halfnur shook his head. They were doomed. No way about it now. Even if he could still win this fight - and given the numbers against him, he didn’t like those odds - as the commander on the scene who had belligerently initiated contact with a pre-uplift species, his life was forfeit. The Celestial Tribunal would ring him dry, probably most of his crew and commanding officer. “In your logs, write how you argued against my course of action, and wanted to file a report to the Castelleum and I countermanded you. Now go!”

Always a good sailor, Ak’no Jel did as she was told. He had confirmation that she and the evacuees made it on the ship, and waited another five minutes to make sure they were gone before he gave what would be his last, most bitter order. “We’re going in.”

Aboard the War Ship Antioch

The battlecruiser and spindly ships were the only two left - and for a moment, Aleksandrya had thought she had won. Or at the very least, was winning. For that act of pride, God decided that the placid, so far only supporting ships with its long-range fire. That seemed to be over now, now it was going to be a broadside. 

“Admira Meyer, the drones are online,” a both familiar and unfamiliar voice said over comms, the signal shakey and broken. 

“I want them running picket, sofort! If any fucking plasma gets through, it’s your ass!” Meyer was already turning to the weapons board, seeing that it was only at 90% charge… and the battlecruiser was getting closer with only missiles harmlessly bouncing off to show for it. But her secondary weapons… “Lower caliber until your main gun is fully charged, he’s not getting an inch without steel,” she ended that call, already having Comms initiating her second, “Admiral Meyer, do you read me Virgo I?”

“Loud and clear ma’am,” the voice sounded winded on the other side, the tight confines of a cockpit not allowing a view. “What can me and my jockeys do for you today?”

“That smaller ship, I want you to poke at it. Bring two squadrons with you…” she paused, thinking. With only teslogats and missiles, the hundreds of fighters wouldn’t do anything to the big ship. Short of just ramming it, she couldn’t see what the rest of the fighters would be doing. “Take as many as want to come.”

“Yes ma’am - think your Comms get can get me over to their jockeys?”

“She’s already on it - Henriette is very skilled.”

“Why thank you, Commander Henriette, over and out!” 

Meyer looked back at the display of the field - already she was down two of her bigger ships (a part of her wanted to add ‘thankfully, Martians’ but she restrained herself) and a dozen smaller ones. And her firing predictions still had it a click out from its maximum range. If those drones didn’t show up -

“Fighters pull back! Repeat, pull back!” It was a laser show over there. While having never taken a shot at any other vessels so far, it became abundantly clear why - it didn't have the range. The powerful plasma jets burned through any fighter unfortunate enough to get too close. “General, where are my drones? Fuck it, drones, this is your new primary target. Are all cannons ready? Good, on my mark - mark!”

Only this time, this time the brilliant display of light didn’t end with a hole. When the light cleared, it was the imposing blue of the shield bursting out through the debris cloud with only a few minor red spots, its impish friend chasing after her fighters untouched. “Prepare a second volley! Reroute power, shut down gravity for all I care, just get those damn guns ready or we’re all dead!”

“Don’t be so certain of it, Admiral,” the same voice from before, only far, far clearer now. And without the static and fuzz… she knew that voice. Thousands of drone ships came rushing by the viewport, creating a cloud of grey and blinking lights that covered the horizon before passing. “I apologize for arriving late but, my father always did teach me ladies first.”

“MacCready,” she snarled under her breath.

“Ah, so you remember me? As you can tell, my ship doesn’t remember either of ours from our most recent or first dance.” 

“Ma’am, a new signature just appeared as… leaving Jupiter’s upper atmosphere,” Henriette said hesitantly. “Samael-Class, and moving quickly. Designation-“

“Big Tex.”

“If you hadn’t done such a wonderful job damaging her, I might’ve been able to help from the beginning,” the man’s cocky voice echoed in the bridge speakers, Meyer’s face turning as red as her hair as his ship quickly advanced towards the enemy. She was going to kill that man. For his crimes, for the Moscow and her old crew, and for stealing her fucking victory! Already, she was watching as the drones broke against the enemy ship like the sea, dozens dying but always being just a few too many to get them all. And the shield was turning red. “Ganymede Spaceworks also added something new, I was hoping to surprise you at our next dance but… well, a Prince must make sacrifices for the good of the people, even if it scorns his lady love.”

All it took was a glance, and Henriette had cut off his comm. “Fucking prick,” she added for good measure.

Drifting into formation above the battered and broken Hive was a Samael-Class Man Of War. Over a kilometer long and with more than enough firepower to match three Zeus classes, the massive primary gun was its primary characteristic… only now it was even more massive, with two isosceles triangles coming from what should’ve been the barrel. And then, in a single shot, a massive round moved in an instant - she barely had time to see it before it had punched straight through the shield, the ship, and then out the other side of the shield. 

Not wanting him to get the last laugh, “Main gun on the spindly.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A rod of Tungsten later and Aleksandrya was mollified enough to call her query. The man she and all of Task Force Chancellor had been sent to capture in the first fucking place. “Jamil MacCready.”

“It’s customary to use my title when greeting me.”

“What was that?”

“Ah, you like my new tachyon-enhanced coilgun? It’s brand new! Honestly worked better then I could’ve-“ Aleksandrya ended the call herself. 

“Helm, take us to Venus Blue Dock. We’re going home.” To fix my ship, reconstitute my numbers, and figure out what the hell we’re going to do next. 

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Those Beyond The Wall

sequel/companion to The Space Between Worlds, set a decade later

character-focused sci-fi set in an area divided in two, the rich protected city on one side and everyone else in the post-apocalyptic desert

follows a woman who works under the Emperor in Ashtown, keeping the peace

when mangled bodies start showing up with seemingly no murderer, she’s tasked with finding the cause, and finds out that it’s the result of corruption spanning both cities and multiple worlds

explores oppression and messy revolution, police violence and apartheid

bi & polyamorous MC