Greetings, loved ones

Let's take a journey.

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The dim lights of the Blacksite flicker overhead, lighting the path to the remaining half of the route to the damned crystal that's your ticket out of here. You feel a pang of relief, seeing the small vent that leads into Sebastian's makeshift shop. However, one thing that's off is that there's no snide comment beckoning you in, and the vent hasn't even flown open.

In desperate need for resources, you kneel down and pry open the vent, wincing at the squeal that comes with it. You crawl through, the sound of your movement shuffling through the narrow space.

The sight you're met with is jarring, almost. Sebastian's shop is..

Empty..?

That's unusual. Eh, well, there's a bunch of supplies strewn about, so might as well make use of them.

You walk over to the medkit on the floor and pick it up, clipping it to your belt. Next comes the flash beacon, then the flashlight, then---

Wait.

Waaiiittt a second.

Did you just hear movement outside?

If it's Sebastian---

"Huh. Don't remember leaving the vent open."

Oh, shit.

You scramble to your feet, your heart lurching in your chest as your eyes dart around the room, searching for a hiding spot. But you're too late. The door that allows Sebastian easy passage opens in front of you, and both of you freeze.

"Expendable?!" Sebastian exclaims, eyeballing the stolen supplies on your body, "Are you--- oh, you little SHIT."

Sebastian darts toward you, but your reflexes are faster. You bring the flash beacon up and shine it straight into his eyes. He roars in pain, falling back and clamping his hands over his eyes as he slams into the door behind him, which opens automatically, leaving him to writhe on the floor in pain as he tries to blink away the stinging sensation.

Using his stunned state to advantage, you pivot on your heel and scramble through the vent, trying to leave the sounds of Sebastian's temporary, **temporary**, pain behind.

You only manage to make it two and a half rooms away before Sebastian slams into you, likely breaking one or two of your ribs and spraining your ankle as you both tumble comedically on the floor, rolling around in a comical show of aggression. When your bodies settle, you're being pinned down by an outraged Sebastian, his pupils barely visible as he snarls at you, his nares flaring and his ear fins flicking erratically. He has his gun aimed at you, the two barrels mere centimeters from your forehead, aimed straight for your brain. Which, Sebastian is convinced isn't there, considering the shitass stunt you just pulled.

"You could have just given me my shit back," Sebastian breathes, his chest heaving above you as he catches his breath. He's way out of shape—he hasn't slithered his way through such narrow halls at such high speeds in so long, and it shows. "But you had to do everything possible to piss me off."

"Well, to be fai- HGHKK-" You're cut off by the barrels of his gun being shoved past your lips and teeth, the sleek, dented metal pressing against your tongue, the chill warming under the heat of your mouth. You gasp, eyes watering as the barrels test the strength of your gag reflex. Sebastian *grins*, having half a mind to press further.

"Keep your mouth shut, vermin. You've pissed me off enough in five minutes." Sebastian mumbles low into your ear, and you swear you can hear a hint of a hiss. Not metaphorical—a literal *hiss*, like you'd hear from an agitated Rattlesnake or a King Cobra. Holy shit, you're gonna die.

And yet, you wouldn't really mind it if you died like this. Under Sebastian? I mean, that's an average Expendable's normal wet dream, is it not?

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Gun-play

Masochism, maybe sadism?? I mean ig bro

Author's Notes!

Hi I'm back anyways okay bye bye hyebhyeeeyyeyye