#alien bts

[helenazbmrskai]

Mating Act (m)

Title [Mating Act]

Pairing [Alien! Yoongi x Human Slave! Reader]

Genre [Alien AU, Sci-fi, Smut, Angst, Fluff]

Summary [You make two choices that change your life entirely. First, you make a choice when you decide to save a family and get kidnapped instead of them, the second you make is when you force imprinting on an alien that takes one wife in his life which you decide will be only you.]

Words [5,2k]

Warnings [General warnings: slavery, bad treatment, dystopia setting, human trafficking, Sexual content: playful neck grabbing, teasing, sexual tension, first-time sex, dirty talk, manhandling, mention of human and wife a lot, alien anatomy (black ink, coldness and a very hard, big and cold dick also magic saliva), fingering, oral (f and m), unprotected sex, belly bulge, size kink, positions (cock riding, doggy, missionary), y/n cries that is how good she feels, overstimulation, buckets of cum, creampie(s), begging, blow job, possessive alien yoongi]

Rating [+18]

A/N: I’m very excited to share this with you guys since I think this would be a great successor to my previous work that many of you liked called “Mating Season” It’s kind of the same but entirely different. This story is in the same universe but it takes place before mating season!

Masterlist //

Your scrunched eyes open slowly, first, you only see a blinding light your ears focus on the cracking sound of neon. It’s cold and you’re not wearing enough clothes for the cool temperature. It takes a few seconds for your senses to return to you and then you can fixate on your surroundings, it’s outdoors and midday as you see the sun going up high in the purplish blue sky.

It seemed that by the time you were unconscious, you arrived at the slave trading planet. The light grey iron bars are cold to the touch and it’s extremely noisy out there. Different species roam the cells it might be hundreds if not thousands of cells lined up for sale, and you’re one of them: a rare find, a human.

Your introduction is displayed for the buyers in numerous languages. There are a few that you speak so you can read it with ease: female human, breedable, young. You hate how the aliens size you up some even get threateningly close until you back up. They openly talk about you thinking that you can’t understand a single thing. Humans are stupid and weak. You’re a race that is almost at extinction. Only a few of you are left and your life expectancy is around eighty years old, it’s short compared to others but all too long for you humans. You managed to survive this long which is a miracle on its own. How pathetic of you to get caught in international body trafficking because you decided to save someone. At least you hope that the family you tried to protect is safe somewhere else you don’t have anything left to protect so you accept your faith.

Deep in your thoughts, you thought you lost all faith in survival. You don’t have anything to go back to but you’re still unable to give up.

You still don’t want to die.

Your defiant gaze meets with a young male. Shorter than his friends he has bland black hair with the same eyes that almost look human. You know that he’s not one of your own though he speaks a different language with his friends and has weird marking on his skin that looks exotic in your eyes.

“Do you like her?” A man next to him stops to read your description. They almost look sorry for you as they see you behind the cell.

“No.” Black hair says without giving it a second. His eyes bore into yours and when he decides to stop looking at you you make a second split decision. You’re going to choose him. Your hands grip the bars as you get as close to him as you can. It’s been a long time since you used that language but you have to try.

“Take me.” They can clearly understand your words, you speak their language. You point at the black-haired man.

“Oh, it seems to like you Yoongi.” A friendly voice slaps him on the shoulders. They talk animatedly among each other finding you intriguing. Books say that the human race is stupid and weak but you look none of those things. His friends encourage Yoongi to get closer to you and for once you don’t step back as he approaches after a little push in your direction. His hands grab onto the bars before he can regain his posture and you use that opportunity to put your hands on his. His hand is cold to the touch the cold blue veins on his hands are in contrast to his pale white skin.

“Yoongi.” You call out the word you heard them say that you think might be his name.

“We’re running out of time. Let’s take her and leave.” A man speaks up his eyes fixated on the holo panel that shows the time and some kind of message. He has some weird-looking glass in his eyes, you think he might be the captain of the ship. You’ve seen that type of accessory somewhere before.

“I didn’t say I will buy it.” Yoongi pulls his hand away like you dirtied him. You rack your brain on how to make him take you with him. Black hair and black eyes, cool skin and vine-like black ink make you think of a race. You loved to read books this is how you taught yourself a few of those languages and you remember reading about his species once. This decision might take you closer to your end but it will be better than rotting in this place so you grab his clothes and smash your lips on his through the tiny gap between the bars.

A race that takes one wife in his lifetime. You’re going to bet on that.

Your tongue forcefully enters his mouth using his surprise against him to successfully imprint your taste on him. After his mind catches up he pushes you away so hard that you land on your butt. His eyes almost look feral as he watches you, he’s very angry but closes his eyes to push the feeling down.

“Get up.” You haul yourself up from the floor getting close to him despite his hard gaze on you. You don’t flinch when he grabs your hair and pulls you close so that your faces are inches away from each other.

“You want to come, then come.” It’s not a calm and collected sentence that he whispers so close to you. It sounds like a threat but you smile and nod. Even if he hates you he has an obligation to you. With that kiss you sealed your fate with his, you’re his. His one and only human wife for all eternity.

Your back collides with the wall behind you as soon as you see your kidnapper his torture that you had to endure is replaying in the forefront of your mind as he fiddles with the cell keys your hostility is not lost on the young men that wait for your release. Yoongi paid for you in digital cash don’t have more time to waste.

He intends to take you with him so he asks for the ownership process to be sped up.

The kidnapper yanks you out of the cell not caring about how you almost land on your face through the force he uses. Yoongi catches you easily lifting you in his arms. You forced him into accepting you but he still does his job of protecting you. His glare is not meant for you this time as he looks displeased by your idle treatment right in front of him. His big hands are curled around you in pretence protection. You must be crazy because you actually relax in his secure hold.

“Hi.” One of his friends gets your attention as he waves. He looks at you with curious eyes he seems like he has a lot of questions for you.

“Hello.” You reply in a hoarse voice. You don’t remember the last time you ate or drank something.

“What’s your name? I’m Hoseok.” He points at you and then at himself. It’s nice of him to talk slowly so you have time to interpret his words. No one else speaks to you as you go. Probably on their way to their ship since one of them implied some important business. Yoongi doesn’t look at you but his hands are firm around you.

“Y/N.”

“Your name is weird.” Hoseok slaps his friend but you don’t take it in the wrong way. Of course, for them, a human name will sound weird.

“You’re being rude Taehyung.” Hoseok scolds the other guy before he turns back to you swaying in Yoongi’s arms. “I think your name is pretty and you speak our language pretty well. How did you learn it? On Earth?”

You shake your head. If you think about your home planet your heart starts aching. “No. I taught myself reading books.”

Now his other friend looks interested in the conversation. The one who has that weird-looking glass.

“Fascinating, to find a smart human like you. I want to run some tests.” Hearing that crazy scientist talk again brings back bad memories as your face becomes uncomfortable and your relaxed figure goes rigid inside Yoongi’s arms. He could feel you tense up in fear and he reacted by holding you more firmly to his chest.

“You’re scaring her. Stop it.” This is the first thing he says after he bought you. Namjoon looks sheepish and apologises and even Hoseok reassures you that he’s just not good with words and you won’t be a lab rat at all.

You accept their apology. You think they mean well and are quite friendly to your utter surprise. They seem like good guys. You feel like it’s a good time to reveal some of your thoughts.

“Just because you read my description doesn’t mean you know anything about me. I wouldn’t reveal anything that would put me at a disadvantage. This is how I could survive until now.” The words taste sour in your mind and you think about all the things you had to do and endure just to be here. Was it worth it? This life. You have thought about it more times than you would have liked to admit.

“It must have been hard for you.” Hoseok shows you empathy and you give him a smile back in silent thanks.

“Why did you choose Yoongi?” A younger male looks at you with curious eyes. They don’t show it but this is the question they all were curious about all along. Even Yoongi perks up when he thinks you’re not looking.

“My instinct told me to trust him.” As for why, you don’t know either. You saw countless men and women walk in front of your cage but you only wanted him to buy you. The moment his eyes unknowingly lingered on you you decided to go with him. He must have felt something too. You saw him before he saw you. He never looked at anyone else but you. If you ask him he will probably deny it but you’re sure of it.

You probably looked desperate. Now that you replay your impulsive behaviour in your mind colour blooms on your cheeks in embarrassment. You learned how to kiss from a book it didn’t occur to you before but what if you were a bad kisser? You started spiralling until your surroundings faded and you locked yourself inside your head. You didn’t register when you arrived on board or when he carried you to his room.

You shiver when he puts you down on his bed. The temperature of his room is colder than you’re used to.

You panic when he tugs your clothes without a word. You grab his cold hands and look into his eyes with widened ones. He looks back at you with predatory. You once read that humans had a ceremony to be pronounced wife and husband. You never experienced it as a human but it sounded romantic.

Thinking back on what you read.

Yoongi is an alien. His species only takes one wife and their ritual is different from yours. The road to becoming his wife is simple enough.

“Look at you being surprised. As if you didn’t know what you did when you kissed me first.” You didn’t know, you just acted impulsively without thinking. You wanted to say that to him but only a gasp left your lips as he pushed you down on his large bed. He won’t listen to any of your pathetic excuses now.

“You forced my hands. Even if you don’t want it anymore you have no other choice but to be mine.” You gulp down the saliva that accumulated in your mouth, his fierce eyes pin you to the spot lying helplessly under him. His hand is so cold as he wraps it around your neck gently he can feel your heartbeat accelerate under his palm. He studies your features taking in every inch of you from head to toe. Committing everything about you to memory. Yoongi curls a few locks of your long hair around his fingers inhaling your scent his nose rubs against your pulse point. Your hands hold onto his waist digging your fingers onto his side but he doesn’t care about it as he kisses the skin on your neck.

You’re dirty and dishevelled in appearance your captor was not kind to his prisoners and you look like a shell of yourself after everything that you’ve been through. Your average beauty doesn’t matter to Yoongi. He’s going to take you regardless of how beautiful you look in other's eyes or not. The kiss already sealed your fate as his bride. Imprinting your taste on him means that he can’t escape you. While Yoongi wants to take you right then and there he realises that you need to be in a better shape to undertake the ritual. He did get a reaction rise out of you. So amusingly innocent.

“Take a shower, you reak.” You awkwardly look to the side unable to meet with his confident smirk. He likes to watch your face turn red. He pulls away from you and you take in a long-needed breath of fresh air. The coldness seeping back into your body makes you sober up and you scurry to his joined bathroom. Yoongi laughs as he sees you hide behind the door he makes sure you can operate the shower before he goes out to get some food for you. You don’t have any clothes to wear but you’re at least clean.

You find a clean cloth to wrap around your body in makeshift clothes it’s better than nothing as you need something to shield you from the cold.

Yoongi comes back before you can organize your thoughts. You could barely calm your heart as your mind kept replaying his soft lips on your neck and his body weight on you not to talk about those alluring black eyes. You could still see your reflection in them as you lock gazes. You look away when he puts the tray down in front of you full of food that you don’t know the name of. It’s not too bad once you take a bite but it’s bland the more you consume. It meets the purpose of filling you up as you no longer feel that gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach.

You jolt up when you feel his hand pull your wet hair to the other side making his way to your neck. He takes a long whiff of air finally smelling your natural scent that was previously masked by the dirt and sweat. He takes the opportunity to cover you in his scent rubbing his nose up and down your throat.

You can’t concentrate on eating anymore.

“Eat. You will need it.” As if he could read your mind he halts all movements simply deciding on laying his head on your shoulder. You pick up more food and try to ignore how his possessive touch engulfs your body in a backhug. You remember how angry he became once you forcibly kissed him he even pushed you hard enough to lose your footing. The way he accepted you is too sudden.

“Are you going to …” Unable to say the words you stop in the middle.

“Am I going to fuck you? Yes, I will.” You gulp.

“Don’t you hate me for kissing you?” You close your eyes when Yoongi wraps his fingers around your neck again this time with more force but gentle enough that you’re not choking on air he just pulls you against his chest holding you by the neck as his nose rubs against your left cheek.

“I am angry. You selfishly decided this on your own. I bet you don’t realise half of the mess you got yourself into. I don’t hate you though. There’s something about you that caught my eye.”

It’s only a small peck on your cheek but your hands tighten around the tray. You take in a much-needed breath when you realise he doesn’t hate you. It makes you feel better knowing that it’s not entirely your imagination. He did look at you.

“I admit I don’t know much.” You sheepishly reply confirming his words. You read some things about his species but there’s no proof that everything is accurate.

“It doesn’t matter as you will be mine anyway.” His hand pulls you close his fingers splayed over your stomach. You only have a thin cloth over your naked body while Yoongi is fully clothed.

“Put down the tray.” You follow his order bending down slightly to put the tray down onto the floor. You let out a surprised yelp when his hands find your ass under the thin material, your backside is on full display for his hungry eyes. Your fingers have a deadly grip on the edge of the bed as he kneads the soft flesh.

“Your smell comes strongly from here.” His thumb parts your folds some wetness is gathered there that sticks to his finger when he pulls back. “I read a few books about you too, enough to know that this means you like the idea of me fucking you.”

Yoongi hates how he can’t see you acting coy biting your lip so he forcibly pulls you back against his chest and pulls your face to the side. You land on his lap your legs dangling on either side of his thighs. He runs his finger up and down your wetness watching your expression turn hazy and your mouth open to let out a silent moan.

“You like this don’t you? Having your human pussy touched by me.” Yoongi finds your clit quickly finding out how your moans increase in volume when he rubs circles over it. You’re gushing over his fingers.

The black ink on his arms moves to stain your body with blackness until it circles over your thigh in two pretty hoops. Your body is getting overheated as his touches devour your body. Fingers dance around your folds, your hips. The black hoops around your ankles and thighs are a reminder of what you started. You’re going to become Yoongi’s and no one can stop that from happening.

Feeling overwhelmed you reach up to kiss him and he does with a growl. He doesn’t push you away like when you stole his first kiss. No. He pulls you closer turning you around until you’re chest to chest.

Your hand rests against his shoulders your fingernails digging into his skin as you feel one of his fingers enter you without warning. Yoongi swallows your sounds with his mouth pushing his finger in and out of your pussy until your essence is running down his wrist. He adds another one and another one stretching your walls as he devours your mouth your hips moving along without you noticing. Getting into the rhythm of riding his fingers. You need to pull back to get some air in between the kisses. His hungry expression manages to steal your last remaining string of sanity. The cloth around you barely covers you anymore and Yoongi goes to remove it and leave you entirely naked before him.

His attention goes to your perky nipples both hands grabbing a handful and pepper kisses around the mound.

So far he doesn’t look strange. Not that you have any experience of what you should see in a situation like this. You conclude that your newly formed tattoos are one of the few things that are specific to his race.

His tongue is cold it makes you shiver when he sucks on one of your nipples. He’s so cold but his coolness is welcomed by your feverish body.

“Lay down.” You do as he tells you. Eagerly and shamelessly open your legs and welcome him between them. This is really happening you realise when he takes off his clothes. His pale skin is pretty and cool against you. Even his cock lined with cold blue veins is pretty and cold when he rubs it between your folds. It’s big and hard like a rock against you. Yoongi can see how you tense up after seeing his size.

“It won’t hurt if you do as I tell you.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb kissing you surprisingly sweetly.

“O-okay.” You nod. You wanted this. You can’t back down now. This is your only chance to live a life without hardships. You’re going to take everything that he gives you.

“This will make it feel better.” Yoongi licks his finger and when it comes into contact with your clit you feel an overwhelming pleasure bloom inside you. His saliva is heightening your pleasure having some kind of chemical in it that helps you feel kind of high. It blocks the pain when his veiny head pushes through the tight rim of your muscle. You and Yoongi watch how his long cock disappears in you inch by inch. It doesn’t hurt at all as he keeps his thumb on your clit, only making you feel full.

“Too much.” You put your hand on your stomach and feel him sitting inside. He makes way no matter how much your body tries to constrict around the intrusion. He reaches your deepest part shaping you into his size.

“There. All in.” Yoongi chuckles when he sees you struggle. You want to stay still and move at the same time. It feels good and strange but too good. You want him to move but on the other hand, you need time to get accustomed to this fullness. Yoongi can see the outline of his cock bulge out of your tummy and he experimentally pushes against your skin. Your pussy pulse around him and get tighter as he massages your lower belly. “How does it feel my little human? Do you feel good?”

You nod kissing him back with passion as your tongues rub together. He continues his descent down your body kissing your neck and breasts. Filling your body with pretty black ink. You pulse and throb around him as he remains unmoving inside you. Not enough you roll your hips trying to show him you want him to move.

“Answer me. Does my cock make you feel good?” At first, he only pulls out a little before he thrusts back testing the waters before he pulls out more as he uses a steady pace to rock into you.

“Yes. Yes. So good please don’t stop. Fuck me harder.” Yoongi wonders how his wife learned how to say such dirty words in his language but he’s thankful for it as his cock appreciates the compliments. Just like you asked he fucks you harder hitting that spot inside you with more deep thrusts.

“Yoongi. Yoongi.” The way you moan his name spurs him on, grabbing your ankles he sinks the remaining inch inside you.

“Ah. Y/N.” He responds with your own name. Grabbing your hips he pumps his cock in and out of you at a fast pace until you can remember his shape. This is the first time he says your name and your walls constrict around him hearing him moaning it. He’s growing addicted to the feel of you. He can hear and smell and see you. The way your pussy swallows him in your tight and wet heat ruined every expectation he had before.

You feel way better than he imagined.

Your tits bounce with each thrust and your moans never cease to slip from your dry throat as he buries his shaft to the hilt.

“Yoongi, I feel weird.” You grab his hand need something to hold onto as you feel this weird tightness in your belly. Yoongi could sense you were almost there tripping over the edge of bliss you became tighter around him. You’re growing sensitive.

“I know. Hold onto me, my sweet wife.” You hold his hand as he twists it behind your back the position is uncomfortable but the minute his cock slips back inside your heat you forget about it as it reaches new places inside you. Your back is arched one hand is firmly holding you and the other is placed on your hips.

This position allows him to hit even deeper the tip of his cock curves around a spot that has you see stars. You’re panting with your face nearly suffocating against the bed. Unable to move or hold yourself up you’re entirely kept in place by the help of Yoongi. The tightness in your chest explodes as you cream around Yoongi’s cock. He doesn’t stop there he fucks you through overstimulation keeping up with his ruthless pace you tear through the bedsheets. His long fat cock claims your pussy as his with a heavy load of cum. The tattoos on your body all settle down as he finishes with a few sloppy thrusts into your buttered hole.

Once he pulls out you can feel his thick cum pour out and his fingers trace your tattoos painting your body with his whiteness until everything about you is covered in him. He doesn’t stop there, he pries your shaking legs open and latches onto your sensitive bud. Yoongi pushes his cum back with two of his fingers as his tongue flicks over your clit. It’s too much and you try to push his face away but he doesn’t budge. He holds both of your hands in his tight grip on your stomach as he continues to feast on your pussy.

“Yoongi. Oh, uh.” You squirm but you can’t escape his hold. “Please. Stop, i-it’s too much.” Tears start to roll down your cheeks the next orgasm you experience hurts so bad but you can’t deny how it feels incredible at the same time. More intense than the previous one you had you let go with a cry of his name and cum around his fingers.

“No. More.” Yoongi looks up after registering your hiccup and goes up to soothe you. His tongue licks your tears away showering your neck and face with kisses until your crying subsides.

Yoongi looks you over and while he finds you utterly appealing covered in his cum he has a concerned look in his eyes. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He pulls you close to his chest but after your senses come back one by one you start to feel his sticky cum all over you. Some still gush out of your hole as he hugs you to his body.

“No.” You shake your head reassuring him with a kiss. You don’t want to admit you cried because he felt so good.

This is the first time you experienced something like this. You’re in no way an expert but you know that his dick is not like any human males you’ve encountered in your books. They shouldn’t be so cold and big and the small ridges that kept rubbing your insides felt weird but incredibly good at the same time.

Even when he’s not aroused he’s so big. You want to touch it. “Can I?” Asking for permission you reach for his cock that rests against your leg but you don’t touch it until you get the green light for it.

“Sure.” Yoongi chuckles at your curiosity. It hasn’t been a hot minute that his dick was inside you but you want to touch it.

“It’s cold.” You muse, it’s slick with both of your cum so you could drag it up and down easily. Yoongi’s gasp catches in his throat it’s still sensitive but he lets you pump it until it’s hard again. You grow curious about how it tastes so you lick around the head as your hand moves up and down in slow motion. It doesn’t really taste like anything to you. Easy to swallow. You take your place in between his legs to get comfortable. Yoongi shivers when he feels your hot mouth around his most sensitive cockhead. You dip your tongue into the slit earning a loud groan from Yoongi his hand rests on top of your head only moving to get the hair out of his view of you sucking his cock.

“Do you like it?” You wonder if it feels good for him. This is the first time you’re doing this.

“Y-Yes, keep going.” You take more of him into your mouth encouraged by his hooded eyes that watch you. “Your mouth is very warm. It feels incredible.” You hum around a mouthful of cock he’s too big for you to get even half of him into your mouth. You stroke the skin that you can’t lick and you focus on his head instead of trying to choke on his cock. Even though you don’t think he wouldn’t like to see you choke on his length trying to fit everything. He reassures you that he likes everything you do to him. He doesn’t try to push your head down and you appreciate his thoughtfulness with an enthusiastic bob of your head up and down his length. He fills your mouth so much that it’s hard for you to swallow around it.

He's throbbing between your lips as you kiss the tip. He shows you how much he’s enjoying it with his lewd moans and sweet touches on your face and the back of your head. Contemplating what you should do with yourself you decide to give in to the desire once more. You want to have him again that it outweighs your concern to be able to take him after such a short time but it doesn’t deter you as you climb on his lap.

“Help me?” You ask shyly rubbing on his fully hard cock.

“Of course,” Yoongi replies with a smirk he can see how needy you are and he won’t deny his pretty wife anything. He kisses your lips sucking on your tongue as he guides your hips to hover over his cockhead.

He touches and kisses every mark and tattoo that appears on your skin.

You sink slowly at your own pace feeling full but you overcome the stretch of your body remembering his shape makes it easier for you to bury it fully into you. He’s big and hard as a rock inside you.

You need him to help you move but he’s more than eager to lift you and have you bounce on his cock. He’s wound up from your previous actions he had no idea he would be this turned on by seeing your small hands and mouth wrapped around his dick. You smell delicious he can’t help but kiss every inch he can reach as he guides you through the motions. You bounce on his cock your expression entirely clouded by pleasure as he hits the best spots inside your spongy walls. Yoongi kneads your ass pulling them apart to watch his cock disappear inside your small pussy. Your body might be coated in his cum but his cock is entirely coated in your arousal and cum until he shoots a fresh load inside your spent hole.

The others don’t see you the next couple of days only catch the back of Yoongi as he carries fresh food for you.

[aliveoverme]

Alien (1979) Directed by Ridley Scott

[ladyvaderpixetc]

Same energy. Two absolute godesses behind the scenes, kicking ass like they were born to do it.

Sigourney Weaver tries out the flame thrower for Alien (1979)

[allwhiterain]

Sigourney Weaver and a Xenomorph in a photoshoot for Alien (1979) directed by Ridley Scott

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Sigourney Weaver tries out the flame thrower for Alien (1979)

[hritika13-tamboli]

Jeon Jungkook Fic Recs List 1...

°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°`☆`°

Series :

Lone blue egg || Penguin Hybrid Jungkook x Bird Female OC | Hybrid au || @foxymoxynoona

Summary : Jungkook is a simple man. He goes to work, he hangs out with friends, he worries about finding a mate to take home for his hometown breeding season. Maybe he spends a little more money on cam girls than is fiscally responsible but he has niche tastes. Maybe he feels a bit adrift, but he's a young penguin hybrid, supposedly in his prime, far from his crèche. At least he's good at one thing: taking care of his precious egg. A comfort egg, not a real egg, he's not a real penguin, just a man with penguin DNA and behavioral tendencies. Just like Yoongi isn't actually an owl, even if he does stay up all night and sometimes hoot to fuck with their roommates. But this is a real love story, even if a slightly odd one.

Summer Nights || Rabbit!Hybrid Jungkook x Y/N | Hybrid au || @marginalmadness

Summary : A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long...will it?

Evocation || Dragon!Jungkook x human?Reader | Hybrid au || @bonny-kookoo

Summary : Every year, he joins the old tradition of traveling, where his ancestors have once ruled the skies. Every year, he meets familiar faces and new ones he's never seen before. Every year, he watches how his brothers find their mates, build their families, and introduce new generations to stories as old as time. But this year, something might be different. This year, there's you - a treasure worth more than he could ever offer.

4-7-8 || Jungkook x reader | marriage au || @jiminrings

Summary : you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you. alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

Love sewn || Jungkook x reader | boy next door au || @jvnghxope

Summary : You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

Sweet tooth || Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook x Cat hybrid!Reader | Hybridau || @bonny-kookoo

Summary : Yoongi and Jimin are each proud owners of hybrids, and these days, slowly falling in love with one another. And everything could be so perfect- if it wasn't for you absolutely resenting Jungkook- for no reason?

Alpha jeon || Jungkook x reader | werewolf au || @pbandjk

Summary: You’ve been raised to be a Luna since you were born. You’ve always had an idea of how your future would be, there was little room to imagine anything different. You’d meet your mate and fall madly in love, and the two of you would take over for your parents once they got older. But what happens when a certain wolf comes in and throws all of your plans on their head?

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane || Jungkook x reader | college au || @taexual

 Summary : jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

Please love me || Jungkook x reader | childhood friends au | arrange marriage au || @ahundredtimesover

Summary : As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

Rattled || Jungkook x reader | guy next door au | single dad au || @gukslut

Summary : "Jeongguk?" His chin quivers and he bites at his bottom lip, clenching his jaw as his eyes flood with tears, meeting Jin's questioning gaze as he collapses against Jin's broad shoulder, sobbing. Jeongguk struggles to make words come out of his mouth.Jin holds him tightly, not speaking, just waiting, trying to put the mess of puzzle pieces together in a way that might make sense. Finally, Jeongguk sucks in a heaving breath."I had a baby," he sputters out. "That's my baby.""I didn't know this baby existed eight hours ago," he chokes out, sniffling.

Lacrymaria olor || Alien!King!Jungkook x Human!Reader | alien au || @bonny-kookoo

Summary : In which you've survived on this foreign planet for more than two years until you're caught and brought to the King, who will decide your fate.

Bitchin || fratboy!jungkook x reader | 1980s au || @kinktae

Summary : The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

Under your skin || tattoist!jk x fem!reader | tattoo au || @armpirate

Summary : You were awful on anything related to flirting, guys and sex. He was the perfect ladies man. You wanted to get rid of your virginity. And he was there to help you with everything you needed. You didn't have the best start, but that didn't mean you wouldn't have the best of the endings.

Unstable || Alien!Jungkook x Human!Reader | dystopian AU || @bonny-kookoo

Summary : Wrong place, wrong time, wrong everything. And yet, maybe it's not as bad as you thought.

☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆●●☆

One-shot :

Idealizations concerning real life relations || jungkook x reader | fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc | fwb au || @venusiangguk

Summary : jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

Night After Night || Fuckboy bf! Jungkook x Reader | Established relationship au || @brown-bi-beautiful

Summary : "Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is".... You broke up with your boyfriend because he couldn't let go of his fuckboy antiques now he's gonna win you back whatever it takes.

If i told you || two-shots | Jungkook x reader | friends to lovers!au | college!au || @gukyi

Summary : in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

Scattered stars || two-shots | Jungkook x reader soulmate!au | fantasy!au || @taegularities

Summary : “And with that, a picture of Jungkook flashed into your mind, his fingertips caressing your cheek and his gentle and affectionate smile sending shivers down your spine as you admitted to yourself that yes - you wanted him.“

Welcome to the heartbreak show || kind-of-tsundere!jungkook x female!reader | college au || @numinousher

Summary : you’re in love with your partner in class that everyone fears (and loves) due to his stoic facial expression and the way he rejects girls rather harshly. as you get to know him, will he be able to handle your heart that you so willingly gave him to care for or, will he break it due to his hatred for people who are in love with him?

In which she's done with him || Jerk jungkook x reader | unrequited love || @minstrivia

Summary : Jungkook angst/fluff where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone !! happy ending!

Angel in the marble || michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader | high renaissance au || @venusjeon

Summary : after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

i can't wait to tell you, "i told ya'." || Single dad Jungkook x reader | Best friend au || @serendipitous-seven

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a successful realtor with a big house, a nice car, colorful dating life, and a spunky 7-year-old daughter to boot…he’s also your best friend who you used to be in love with. Of course, he was never made aware because you swear it’s all in the past…until it isn’t. But going on a cruise with Jungkook and his daughter whom you adore should be harmless. Absolutely nothing can go wrong…Right?

Los Angeles Laker || nba player jungkook x reader | nba au || @xpeachesncream

Summery : being one of the most popular players in the nba, jungkook takes absolutely no shit from anybody. he could give a fuck about the press, what people think about him, serious relationships. it’s a personal hell getting wrapped up with jeon jungkook— and you can’t help but fall into the same trap as every other woman who crosses paths with him. the more you fall, the more you realize that you will never be able to change a man who doesn’t want to change his ways.

[jiminrings]

if-then

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 7k

glimpse: you're an alien in prince jungkook's planet — both literally and figuratively.

alternatively, jungkook gives his nickname for you to someone else in a fit of anger, and you've never been more upset.

[ fluff, angst, painfully oblivious n dense alien koo, mutual pining (yes MUTUAL!!!!), the glaring concept of not being good n whole enough to deserve love (yikes but i Swear it gets better), mentions of injuries ]

notes: after being asked for literal years to write an alien au, it's finally here!!!! mwah thank u for patiently waiting :D

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s fond of appraising things.

He’s fond of assigning values to things that may or may not hold some bit of importance to his life, whether its value proves itself in the present or the future. Jungkook likes setting his literal ducks in a row, and the little inanimate yellow tokens that his brother brought back from Earth serve as a discreet (not really, though) reminder that he may have some hoarder tendencies.

Jungkook’s not really a hoarder-hoarder; it just happens that he likes keeping things, sometimes for no apparent reason at all.

He likes swiping the flashlights that the night guards use to stash in his own personal “emergency” (not that there’s ever been one, nor will there ever be) cabinet, just because he wants to be prepared for a natural catastrophe that won’t probably ever happen in his area. He’s already seen a couple of films that humans have made, and if ever comes a time that Planet Twell has a dinosaurian monster battle it out with a gigantic prehistoric ape, Jungkook’s proud to say that he has a couple flashlights for him and his brothers to use.

In addition, Jungkook likes picking flowers just before they go out of season. His eldest brother’s already cussed him out for it, but he’ll still do what he does best (?), if best means “preserving” the flowers by drowning them in water every ten minutes so they wouldn’t wilt and he’d still get to see them during off-peak days.

Prince Jungkook likes appraising things in his own definition and pace. They’re never categorized in his head for what they actually do, but for what kind of unexplainable fulfillment fills his chest whenever he thinks about the item.

The youngest prince of Twell didn’t like it when there was a commotion at the lily field and the citizens ran out to see what it was about, instead of eating their slices of cake with the fondant that he made out of scratch. Jungkook didn’t like the fondant either because there must be something insanely wrong with itself (or it’s just that he made it just as bad), but he didn’t like being alone either when finding out about the taste.

He didn’t like seeing the tiger lilies he planted himself squished underneath an unknown figure, who may or may not have fallen from the sky, judging by the way you’re wincing alone with no aircraft, no parachute, nor any other person with you.

Jungkook didn’t like seeing you, an alien, who’s just as confused with the entire ordeal. You can’t remember anything about how or why you’ve gotten here — all you know is your name and who you are, and unexpectedly so, the first prince who’s gotten to where you are isn’t so thrilled about the fact.

He’s fond of appraising things, and although he’s not extremely excited about you just as he had been when Yoongi brought home trinkets from him during his trip to Earth (including the very seeds for the tiger lilies you’ve destroyed), he’ll make do.

Jungkook will try and make you mean something, if not everything, to him.

.

.

.

Prince Jungkook has come to learn that you’re part human.

You’re neither fully his kind nor his type (or atleast that’s what he thinks so) and he doesn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know what to feel about only the slight panic that filled you knowing that it’s still unexplained of how or why you’re in Twell; even more, he doesn’t know what to feel that you’re neither scared nor intimidated by him.

You don’t know what to feel either when Jungkook, who’s only mildly shocked about your existence in general, delivers his first question to you and it’s not of the sort that you expected. He looks soft and round, unlike the hearsay about his kind that only amounts to half of you. He doesn’t look aloof and unaccepting at all — if anything, he looks at you like you’re the one who’s cruel instead of him.

Jungkook almost completely does not care about who you are or where you’re from, but what he cares about is if you have any trinkets with you that he could possibly have. Out of anything he could possibly solicit from you, he only asks for so little, no matter how odd.

“T-trinkets?” you squeak, brows raising in surprise. “I’m sorry, Prince Jungkook — y-you’re asking if I have trinkets so you could have them?”

“Yeah,” he nods, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out as he confirms your confusion. “It’s my birthday, and I want to have a trinket.”

“Oh,” you blink once, twice,  a small smile playing on your lips to replace the fact that you’ve been confused for the entire half hour since you came back to consciousness. “Happy birthday, prince.”

“I see.” 

“It’s thank you,” you mutter automatically, coughing lightly when he only knits his brows at you. He’s cute this way — innocent, even. “I-I mean you’re supposed to say thank you when someone greets you, or when someone does something nice for you in general.”

“Okay. My brother forgot to teach me that,” Jungkook hums in recognition, eyes briefly glowing with a bluish hue before he regains his composure. “Thank you.”

You wonder if staring is also frowned upon in this planet.

You wonder if it would get you a mean glare or a sarcastic snicker if you were to stare at Prince Jungkook a little longer without any thoughts floating in your brain, except for the fact that you are completely unaware that you’re already zoning out on him. 

You wonder if it would be wrong for your eyes to take in every single detail of him from his short hair that softly falls onto his forehead, to his supposed birthday attire that only consists of a white button-up, to his gleaming royal jewelry that rightfully so, only looks like it would belong to him and him only.

“Trinket?” he reminds you, head tilting and eyes widening as he cranes his neck to look at you beyond the table that separates the both of you.

“Oh! U-uhm,” you scour your pockets immediately just to present something, and bluntly put, you haven’t even checked your well-being, much less the possessions you have on yourself. You feel more than relieved to know that it isn’t empty, because oddly enough, you’d feel a little upset— a little down if you were to disappoint a prince you just met not more than an hour ago. “I have this handkerchief, I guess.”

“Perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, leaning to grab the baby blue square from you that’s embroidered with your initials that are unfamiliar to him. He clutches it into his hand tightly with a smile on his face, the happiness later dwindling when he realizes he has no clue of what he’s holding. “What is it supposed to do?”

You blank at that, meekly scratching your temple. “Nothing, I think. It’s just there for most people, but I’ve never had to use it.”

“You’ve never had to use it, but you still take it with you?” he attempts to clarify, a slight frown embedded into his lips as he looks down on your averagely prized possession.

“I don’t mean never as in never ever, and I’ve used it a couple of times like everyone else does, but it’s just-…” you trail off, shrugging helplessly because you can’t describe the concept of nothing to him easily. “It’s just there.”

You’re more than fatigued and a lot more confused (albeit less worried) about the semantics of your presence here in Twell, specifically in Prince Jungkook’s office, but the latter doesn’t seem to take mind as he takes you with an open mind.

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll have it,” he announces, shifting his eyes between you and your (his now) handkerchief that he’s slowly and hesitantly unraveling, only to put back into its original square form after every move.

“You will?” you almost snort, a tiny bit amused that a prince is clenching your handkerchief like its the most interesting thing in the galaxy.

“Yes,” he hums distractedly, looking up at you as he lightly scratches the embroidered teddy bear at the corner of the fold. “I will have you too.”

“You will?! You’re not going to dispose me or anything?” you straighten immediately, eyes more frantic and disbelieving to hear that you’re being taken care of (or something of the sort) than just awhile ago when you were unsure of your fate. “Why?”

“Don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs just as easily as you do. “I just want to.”

( ♡ ) 

Prince Jungkook isn’t so bad, and neither is Twell.

The planet isn’t so bad in the sense that although you don’t feel the most welcome you have ever been in your entire life, there’s a recognition that seeps into your bones that some of them, if not most, would set out a plate for you if ever Jungkook came into their homes. He’s the social butterfly of his family; the baby lamb that’s set out into the field to check up on everyone else and act as a mannequin of sorts that’s a little less superficial, and a little more warm.

Jungkook isn’t so bad either in the sense that although it’s the bare minimum to do so, he doesn’t throw his kindness back to your face even in the most critical situations, with now being the sole exception.

With the exception of now, Prince Jungkook has not ever acted rashly towards you. He wasn’t annoyed with you when you kept asking him questions of what it would mean to act as his security detail, and he wasn’t irked either when your questions about your heritage (and his by extension) toed personal lines that no one else would dare cross.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never acted rude towards you. He wasn’t as guarded with your existence like his older brothers were; as a matter of fact, he even came to your defense when some of them theorized that you were only here in their planet to act as a precursor for their downfall.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never been this cruel; with the ultimatum of his pride over your heart, he’s never made you feel this different and alienated from him — with, of course, the exception of now.

Heartbreak is a human emotion.

The weakness of the concept is disturbingly human and vulnerable. There’s no escape from it, even if the said percentage of human in your blood is barely half and could light a candle to your more evolved, far more powerful Twellian genes. It’s a sickening emotion to feel, much more have it get you carried away from what you have to do at hand.

The grip that said heartbreakhas on you is unimaginable, far more different than what your people, not humans, tell you how it’d feel like. There had already been an uproar when it was announced that you were appointed as Prince Jungkook’s guard, the news of an impure Twellian bearing the coveted position receiving every reaction possible — from fear, to distaste, and even to genuine amazement.

All of the kingdom’s advisers had theorized that despite you of being impure heritage, youwere superior in terms of physical capabilities. With everything else you’ve been theorized to lack at, you bite at the possibility that the ache in your chest is attributed to your stunted emotions.

You feel painfully human. You feel what heartbreak is, and compared to what others have made it out to be, it’s an emotion that you can’t put into words.

“You can’t, Jungkook,” you firmly say once more with your ears ringing, not because the volume of the club makes you want to get down on your knees, but because you’ve perhaps heard something far worse; far more grating, and far more overwhelming than what your heart could even bear. "All of your brothers specifically insisted for me to bring you back before midnight."

They say that your hearing’s supposed to be better. They say that you could see far more colors than what your alien counterpart could ever do. They say that for everything else you lacked, you made up for with the way you’re more physically advanced and therefore adept to protecting the planet’s youngest prince.

No one’s ever said that you’ll be safe from Jungkook himself.

"Jungkook, let's go home. Please," you plead through your teeth, the word you’ve last spoken being the latest term you’ve taught him. Jungkook, along with everyone else, is not familiar with begging; they’re not familiar with desperation so wrung out, there’s actually a word made just for it.

Jungkook only scowls at you, eyes turning a bright red as opposed to his usual pink allotted for you. "Butt out," he murmurs, tightly crossing his arms as his nostrils flare involuntarily. ”You promised me I could be out tonight."

You’re starting to get over the heartbreak little by little, the tantrum thrown by the young prince making you indifferent. 

Maybe you just misheard a few minutes ago — maybe, it was only a fluke and you didn’t hear it correctly the first time. Maybe it’s only your faulty impureness that made you susceptible to just hearing your nickname out of nowhere. Maybe, it’s not heartbreak that you were feeling, but rather only a subdued version of it by seeing Jungkook disappointed at you doing your job.

It’s your fault, you guess. Perhaps it’s the fault of the bustle of the club and the hundreds of dialects you could hear all at once finally got to you, overwhelming you to the point that you heard Jungkook calling for your name, despite not looking at you all.

You’re about to plead even more for the both of you to go back already; to save him from a lecture from all of his brothers and for you to be spared an even harsher scolding because they think you’ve gone too soft for him — but then you hear it. Again. 

Jungkook clenches his jaw tightly, eyes glowing a bright magenta before he opens his mouth.

"Come on, princess," he calls you by his term of endearment for you, yet his hand is outstretched for the female Twellian on his side.

He’s not calling you — he’s not even paying attention to you. Jungkook isn’t giving you a shred of his focus but he wants you to hear him call someone else the endearment he had playfully made up for you, to which you grew accustomed to without fail. He wants you to see how he gives it to someone else easily, the syllables falling from his tongue easily getting into the girl’s head.

Jungkook wants you to know how angry he is over you doing your job, he hits you where it hurts. He has no idea what heartbreak is supposed to feel like, but he doubts that you’d even feel that emotion over what he’s done — and if you actually do over something seemingly simple (for him atleast), he could only think that everyone else is exaggerating what it felt like.

Your heart, whatever is human of it, skips. It tightens and it loosens alarmingly so, almost as if you have no control for the liquid hurt that compromises you.

“I’ll show you a good time tonight, princess,” Jungkook whispers to her ear loudly for good measure, eyes darting up at you, only for him to see that you’ve been watching the whole time. 

You almost can’t tear your eyes away until Jungkook crashes his lips into hers, your nickname easily falling out of his lips as if the endearment is free for everyone; as if it’s never been yours in the first place and you only borrowed it out of desperation.

Your whole flight home is quiet.

Jungkook makes it back home before midnight, but you don’t.

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s been looking for you the whole day.

He’s been looking for you since he woke up, and that was fifteen ungodly hours ago when he had risen in a cold sweat. Jungkook felt sick to his stomach, and despite his insistence that something must be severely wrong with him for him to feel that way, the palace doctor (along with every other physician, healer, and reader he knew of) confirmed that nothing was out of place.

Jungkook’s supposedly okay, yet it feels like every part of him is being wrung dry. There’s an ache to his chest that renders him stupid because he feels like he’s forgotten every word, every lesson, and every vaguest bit of semblance that would detail about what he felt.

All of a sudden, Jungkook feels like he’s forgotten what the palace looks like. It’s as if he’s forgotten how tiles are supposed to feel cold on bare feet and how bleak his days are when he doesn’t have you by his side, even if the palace is also occupied by his brothers and the grounds are teeming with staff.

The young prince suddenly feels that he’s forgotten the very layout of his home because his mouth is agape at each room he walks in, simply because you’re not there. He’s practically turned the palace upside down just to grab a whiff of you somehow, and yet you’re nowhere to be found. 

Nothing from his or his brothers’ belongings are missing. There’s not a single piece of furniture that’s tilted askew. Nothing has been taken from Jungkook except his peace of mind and the capacity to just stay still because your sudden disappearance unsettles him like no other.

.

.

.

You’re back home, except you’re no longer dressed in the same outfit you left him in. 

Your uniform’s been ditched for something more casual — something more worn and lived in to the point that it looks like a shirt that’s never been yours in the first place. The sight of you, dressed in clothes that’s not yours, puts a bitter taste to Jungkook’s mouth.

He’s never been that selfish before. He’s generous and lenient as far as a prince could go, and yet he’s never felt this territorial over something seemingly as trivial as a shared garment.

The concern feels too vulnerable to the point that only a silly human, something Jungkook’s not, would consider it as a burden.

“Where were you?” he asks with the gentleness he didn’t think he’d possess after being worried shitless about you, the panic he had harbored for the longest time immediately dissipating at you.

Jungkook wants to be mad at you so, so, so badly. He wants to be angry at the way it was irresponsible for you to be alone because after all, your strength wouldn’t compensate for the gleaming fact that you’re not from here in the first place.

“I was on my leave,” you answer simply, keeping your hands behind your back as if this was any other outing with Prince Jungkook and not just Jungkook, the same man who’d call you princess for fun and hold your hand just for the sake of it.

“I didn’t say you could be on leave,” he lowers his voice, jaw tightening at the sight of you being indifferent towards him.

“I asked your brothers.”

Jungkook feels that sickness again. He feels that tinge of metal that lingers in the roof of his mouth and he wants to spit it out in front of you just to see if he’d find something else that’s not the sensations he’s been experiencing since you came around; if he’d find something else that’s not your doing yet affects him just as much.

“What if I needed protecting, hm? What if something happened to me while you were gone?” Jungkook half-taunts, shrinking on himself despite doing his hardest to appear big by crossing his arms.

“I knew you were in good hands, prince,” you tense, the tide that comes with your tone washing over Jungkook until he drowns in the realization that you were there while she was in his quarters. “I made to sure to hear that you were in very good company before I left.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s on a self-imposed break from his duties.

The prince’s duties almost exclusively involved chatting and being charismatic in general, along with the occasional goodwill event wherein he had to be all over the place just to take care of things, and not once did he ever take this long of a radio silent break — or atleast that’s what one of his brothers said.

He’s been cooped up in his room since you came back two weeks ago. Despite your absence (if you could even call it that) that barely lasted for an entire day, along with your confrontation just spanning within minutes, it’s been theorized by one of Jungkook’s brothers, again, that it’s because of your doing.

The youngest prince is theorized to be sulking over you and you simply cannot believe it.

You refuse to believe that Jungkook is bedridden with sadness because to begin with, his kind isn’t even supposed to feel such type of intense emotion. He shouldn’t be swayed by you — he shouldn’t be preoccupied with such pathetic, human emotion that you thought only you could feel because of him.

You rebuff the idea that he’s paralyzed with guilt, not only because you feel that it’s physically impossible for him to be, but because it’s him. Someone of Jungkook’s power and influence wouldn’t be so ridden with guilt that he refuses to show his face to you because he’s ashamed of hurting you.

You reject with your whole heart each and every idea that his brothers pitch you. You stay stationary with Jungkook and yet you will yourself to amount to something, even if it isn’t for him, just so the sickening feeling of being replaced won’t ever creep up to you.

You’re in love with him and it’s terrifying.

What’s even more terrifying is that you’re not the only one who knows so.

“I suggest not falling in love with Jungkook.”

You look up so sharply, your neck aches at the speed. Yoongi stands above you with a perfunctory smile, and with just the tiny bit of effort for him to come near you almost makes you forget that he’s Jungkook’s brother who had been particularly vocal about being wary of you.

“I’m sorry?” you murmur in disbelief, eyes wide and unblinking as you take into account his perfect tone.

“It’s obvious, you know?” he smiles tightly, pulling a chair to sit himself down across from you. Yoongi looks relaxed as he takes you in, almost as if he hasn’t spent half a year avoiding you. “I’ve seen the way you look at my brother. I’ve seen it over and over again when I was sent for a mission on your planet.”

You want to ask him why he’s telling you this. You want to ask badly why he’s saying this now when you’ve been certain for the longest time that your adoration for Jungkook wasn’t apparent in a land of creatures that don’t know what love, in your own terms, is supposed to look like.

You want to ask Yoongi why it shouldn’t be Jungkook, but you can’t bring yourself to — not because you know the answer deep down in your subconscious, but because you’re afraid that he would only make sense—

That he’d only solidify why Jungkook should never be in your orbit.

“Oh,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you like my planet then?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I’m sorry, my prince,” you immediately apologize, looking down on your lap as you wait for the impeding lecture; maybe even the impending punishment (you’re not sure what it is, but you know it would hurt someway and somehow) that comes with loving the prince, even by the sidelines.

“Jungkook is a wildcard at best,” he trails off, exhaling heavily as he listens for the heartbeat in the room behind you that houses his brother. “He’s brash and stubborn. He’s driven by emotions we are not even supposed to have.”

If Yoongi stands up now and jiggles the knob to Jungkook’s room with just the slightest bit of force, he can guarantee that the latter would be falling face-down to the floor, just because of the way he has his ears pressed to the door.

Jungkook is moping and sulking and to this day, he does remain miserable — the aforementioned factors don’t stop him from being desperate and nosy.

“What I’m saying is that he’s weak, Y/N,” Yoongi sighs. “The strong isn’t for the weak. That’s always been the case.”

“I know I’m weak, prince, but I-…”

“What?” the prince laughs out loud, the smile on his face wide and cheery. He’s so amused with you that his eyes glow into pink, throwing his head back as he regains his composure. “Jungkook’s the weak one. Not you, obviously,” he snorts. “He’s basically a loser with a crown on his head. He’s the one who doesn’t deserve you and not the other way around.”

You’re not the one who’s being insulted, and yet it feels like it. Your throat tingles and your ribs burn at the sudden urge for you to protect Jungkook, even if he’s in no real threat; even if it feels like all the baser parts of you are coming together just to make sense of the way you grow simultaneously weak and strong for him.

Jungkook, the actual subject who’s being insulted and is proving his brother right by being weak because he’s wallowing in his room out of self-deprecation, sadly hums to himself in agreement.

“I’m not-…”

“Don’t refute it — that’s an order.”

“Prince Yoongi,” you relent, trying to find the right words. “May I ask why you’re telling me this?”

“Because Jungkook’s weak,” Yoongi answers simply. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to be weak with him and for him.”

( ♡ ) 

You’re eating dinner by yourself in the staff room when Jungkook walks in.

It’s the first you’ve seen of him in three weeks. He’s evidently moving on from what seems to have been a rough period for him, right when you’re at your lowest that you’ve ever been.

Prince Jungkook decides that after three weeks, he should take you by surprise and meet you in the staff room wherein you’re alone, pushing your dinner around your plate instead of doing any other menial task you’ve assigned yourself just so it would feel like you’re in use.

You’re just there. You just happen to be there and no one, even you, could do anything about it. You just happen to be there with no exact purpose and it’s gnawing at you from the inside out.

It feels all over again that your family is the runt of the entire extended bloodline. It feels that you’re not remarkable enough for your relatives to surround you and that you don’t amount to anything enough, in whatever aspect it is, to get a shred of attention that isn’t pity,

It feels like the sinking sensation in your chest wherein you have to see that all your mom could contribute to the table is her trusted homemade recipe during holidays, lost amongst a sea full of pre-ordered meals that only your relatives could afford. Like it’s how your dad’s side of the family is borderline batshit crazy and he’s the only one that turned out to be good, and you can’t do anything but watch strangers your have for blood relatives belittle you. Familiarly so, it’s like you’re a kid again with your siblings sitting on the carpet and cleaning up wrapping paper from gifts, not because the gifts are for you, but because you just happen to be there.

You feel like the alien that you are wherein you don’t belong; wherein your family has to sit on the spare chairs dug up from the basement, situated on a portable table outside of the actual, solid dining table where everyone’s sat. 

Jungkook sits with you at that dusty, old portable table. He sits himself on the flimsy chair that’s only used for stepping and for laundry.

Jungkook sits with you, not because he just happens to be there, but because he’s there for you.

“I’m… sorry for calling someone else princess.”

“It’s no problem,” you murmur, putting your fork down as you keep your hands glued to your knees underneath the table.

“But there is a problem,” Jungkook counters, lowering his head to get you to look at him yet you don’t budge. “I’m not okay with calling anyone else princess other than you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Then suit yourself,” you quip, even with your voice shaky and your vision blurry.

“I’m-…” Jungkook starts again, racking his brain for the limited vocabulary he has that surely isn’t enough to make up for his grave msitake. “I’m very sorry for making you feel bad. It must have hurt.”

“It’s no problem.”

“There’s a problem,” he insists. “I’m saying sorry because I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I did,” he frowns, beyond confused to why you keep denying the fact that he’s hurt you in ways he can’t even imagine.

“You really didn’t.”

“Why do you not want me to say sorry?” Jungkook questions, voice raising yet he still looks confused— innocent, even. “Did I… hurt you that much?”

It’s the last straw for you. The pure innocence in Jungkook’s words is and should be the last straw for you because it only makes you realize that he’d never understand you. It resonates in your head, more than ever, that you’ll never be able to understand him fully either because you’ll never be the same.

The only option the universe provides you is for you to love Jungkook halfway.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Prince Jungkook. I shall go back to-…”

“Can I not say sorry to you?” Jungkook bursts, darting his hand out blindly to get a hold on you before you leave.

“You can’t say sorry to me because all of this would feel real,” you ramble, shaking your head vehemently. “You should not say sorry to me because that would mean that I’m hurt because I love you.”

Jungkook looks at you innocently with his eyes wide and lips parted, blissfully unaware of the name to the sensation that keeps tugging at his chest to the point that it feels like it would burst open, yet above all else, he still dives in head-first.

“Can you not love me, princess?” he tilts his head. “Is it not allowed?”

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s words lie heavily on both you and Jungkook.

The prince’s sentiment stays on your chest like a paperweight that only grows heavier the more that you try to push it off. You know Yoongi means well, no matter how his words come across otherwise, but the longer that you think about his own suggestion regarding his brother, the more you feel unsure.

Jungkook’s made complete sense of his brother’s words on the other hand, and instead of being filled with a type of rage that only bubbles up when being looked down on, oddly enough, he comes to the truth quite easily.

He knows the truth that he’s weak despite painting himself the opposite, and he feels it the most now that you’re the one who’s distancing yourself from him. Jungkook feels like swallowing the sun and chasing it down with water when you respond to princess, even if it’s jokingly uttered by his brothers and not said sincerely by him alone.

He knows the truth that he’s the weak one in the family, if not the weakest, whenever he stands next to them. Jungkook may be the poster prince for the citizens but he knows the most out of everyone that he’s not as vital to the kingdom as the others are. He may get an assigned seat at the actual, solid dining table, but he knows that he’s not at the head of it.

He knows he’s weak, with and for you, and that’s never bothered him until it actually did.

Jungkook’s eyesight isn’t as good as yours.

Unlike you, he’s restrained by the entirety of his Twellian blood from immediately focusing his gaze on anything. There’s a lag that registers whenever he fixes his sight on anything, just like everyone else but you, and that hadn’t been a bother to Jungkook the whole time.

He had falsely assumed that since you’re the only one who’s different here, the only exception in the planet by being impure and partially human, you’d be the one who’ll have a hard time adjusting your daily life to his — not the other way around.

Jungkook, who had not once ever felt insecurity before, suddenly feels inferior. He feels like dirt and yet he’s angry, not because of the fact that he comes second to your abilities, but because he can’t do shit when it comes to you.

The prince’s eyesight isn’t good enough to notice the tiny little expressions that litter your face whenever something remotely intriguing happens to you. His hearing isn’t on par with yours because he can’t register the laugh in your voice as quickly as you could recognize his. He’s not on the same level as you and it’s only now that it bothers him—

The realization creeps into Jungkook, slowly yet unsettlingly, when he sees the cut on your cheek; the liquor of inferiority, chased down by Jungkook’s own rage, only hits him the moment he sees that a nasty bruise is blossoming by the corner of your eye.

Jungkook grips your jaw lightly out of nowhere, making you look up at him unexpectedly when you had been only preoccupied with fixing him his drink. The prince, no matter the unmistakeable rage that’s brewing in red, is the softest he’s ever been when it comes to addressing you.

“Who hurt you?” 

He has all his attention on you and it’s almost sickening with the way he doesn’t want to break off. Jungkook’s hand is still on your jaw and his eyes are still fixed on yours and yet his mind, whatever remains rational of it and not just vengeful, is going a million miles per hour.

“Get your hands off me,” you spit, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the vitriol that spills out of him so clearly, the air around both of you shifts.

“I asked you a question,”Jungkook repeats, putting is hand on your wrist firmly instead. He makes the grave mistake of looking down, though, because as soon as he realizes that there’s blood caked underneath your nails and that your knuckles are stained with your own blood, Jungkook can no longer hold himself back. “Who. Hurt. You.”

Jungkook’s reflexes are slow, but the moment your bottom lip trembles in vulnerability and pure bitterness, he feels as if time has caught on to the point that it’s only your anguish that sharpens his senses.

His feelings, even.

“If I tell you, would it make a difference? If I’m considered weak, Jungkook, then that means you’re even weaker,” you scoff, eyes trained on the ground with your head low so you could muffle the tremble in your voice; not that it would make your prince any less attuned to you.

Jungkook’s eyes remain narrowed at you, breathing heavily as you only state the facts not to insult him, but to remind the both of you of your place — or whatever is left clear of it because Jungkook can’t even think straight the longer that he looks at you hurting.

“What, prince? What are you gonna do about it?” you spit as the last resort, standing up abruptly to storm off and make an escape for it just once so you’ll be free of the burden of being yourself in Jungkook’s existence, yet he doesn’t let you.

The grip that the prince has on your arm is unstable yet unyielding at the same time, as if it’s taking everything in Jungkook to remain standing despite wanting to hunch over by the unexplainable tremor that roots from his chest.

(It is taking everything in him.)

“Burn,” he utters. “I’ll burn everything.”

“You’re-…”

“Weaker than you? I know that,” Jungkook interrupts, his lips set in a straight line as he lets himself be swept by the current that is you. “All the more reason to do everything for you then.”

The young prince doesn’t even break his gaze from you once, even if his pupils are trembling and his teeth are chattering out of the sheer trepidation that comes with being scared for someone else who carries your heart with them.

He doesn’t break his gaze from you, even for the briefest second, as he fishes out his (your) handkerchief from his pocket that’s there, not because it just happens to be, but because it’s allotted for you.

To love and to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides, and Jungkook no longer wants the star to swallow him whole because he doesn’t want you to be burned.

Jungkook wants to love you all the way.

[mrsvante]

Stolen Orbit

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: yandere au, dark horror, sci fi

summary: you were meant for eradication with the rest of your planet—erased without a trace, just another speck in the galaxy's endless purge. but jeongguk saw you. fragile, insignificant... human. and something his kind had long forgotten stirred in him. instead of erasing your existence, he took you, stole you from extinction and made you his. now you live in a celestial cage, adored and possessed by something not quite capable of love, but desperate to keep you. he doesn't understand your fear, your resistance, but he craves your surrender all the more because of it. and if it takes breaking you to make you his completely... he will.

warnings: slow burn, mass extermination, alien jungkook forced captivity/proximity, psychological manipulation, stockholm syndrome, dubcon, smut, ritualistic copulation

word count: 7,805

The Forever

It happens too fast.

Or maybe… not fast enough.

You don’t plan it.

You don’t think.

You simply run.

The opportunity presents itself like a gift from gods long since abandoned. A subtle error, a flicker in Jeongguk’s routine.

You both rise from your shared meal, or what passes for meals aboard this ship of whispered threats and suffocating tenderness, and for once, he doesn’t immediately shepherd you back toward the sleeping chamber.

Instead, his attention flickers toward the far wall, speaking softly in a language you still do not understand, giving brief commands to the ship’s interface.

You move before logic can catch up.

Your bare feet slap against the cool, pliant floor as you dart past him, weaving through the open doorway just as it begins to ripple closed.

He doesn’t shout.

He doesn’t chase.

Not immediately.

But you feel his gaze snap to you, heavy and sharp as a blade pressed to the back of your neck.

A low sound follows, not a roar or a curse, but something worse.

Amused. Displeased. Intrigued.

You don’t look back.

You can’t.

You sprint down the corridor, lungs burning, pulse roaring in your ears as the ship becomes a blur of seamless walls and softly glowing paths.

You have no plan.

There is no escape, you know this, every part of you knows this.

But still… you run.

Because something primal and furious still lives inside you, something untouched by his hands, his whispers, his unbearable tenderness.

Something human.

—

You don’t realize how far you’ve gone until the hall begins to change.

The sterile white smoothness gives way to darker hues. Soft matte blacks and deep blues that drink in the ambient light. The air shifts too, warmer, faintly perfumed with something that makes your head swim.

Your frantic steps slow.

Confusion tempers panic.

You’ve entered a different part of the ship. Instinctively you know this space isn’t meant for you.

The hall spills into a vast open chamber.

At first, you falter, confused by what you’re seeing, and then your breath catches painfully in your throat.

This… is his. His quarters.

It couldn’t be more different from your confined room.

Where your space is neutral, clinical, designed for compliance and simplicity, this is… lavish.

Dark, seductive textures fill the room. Draped fabrics that ripple faintly despite the still air. Walls that hum with deep sapphire light, pulsing softly like a heartbeat slowed to slumber.

And at the far end, dominating everything, is a window. You stumble toward it before you realize you’re even moving. It stretches from floor to ceiling, impossibly clear, revealing endless, horrifying, beautiful space.

Stars burn quietly beyond, infinite and cold, scattered like spilled diamonds across the ink of the void.

Nebulae drift in slow spirals, glowing faintly like ghost lanterns hung in darkness.

There is no horizon.

No anchor.

You are untethered.

Insignificant.

It is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

And it makes you want to weep.

But you don’t.

Instead, you turn, and your breath catches again as your gaze lands on the bed.

Massive.

Far larger than necessary. Nestled in dark fabrics that gleam faintly in the soft glow. The sheets shimmer subtly, changing hues as though alive. Deep purples, smoky silvers, midnight blues.

A place meant to hold something precious.

Or trap something unwilling.

Your stomach twists sharply.

But what steals your breath completely is beyond the bed.

A garden.

Or something like it.

Alien flora grows behind a translucent partition. Glowing softly, leaves curling lazily as though breathing. Vines drip with luminescent petals, strange fruits pulse faintly like tiny beating hearts. The air is rich and heavy with fragrance, sweet and intoxicating.

You move toward it, hand lifting, unable to resist the strange compulsion to touch.

But before your fingers meet the glass, the temperature shifts.

The room grows colder.

Not literally.

Energetically.

Like being plunged into deep water.

A shadow falls over you, and you don’t need to turn to know. You feel him behind you, close, silent, and very displeased.

His voice breaks the heavy air, low and dangerously quiet.

“You ran.”

You close your eyes, throat tight. Your fingers curl slowly into a fist, hovering just short of the alien plant. “You’re not my keeper,” you whisper bitterly.

Silence stretches taut between you, vibrating with tension.

And then, movement.

His hand slides over yours, pale, long fingers curling delicately around your knuckles, pulling them away from the glass with infuriating gentleness.

His other arm slides around your waist, tugging you back against the solid wall of his chest.

You feel him exhale, slow and controlled, his breath ghosting over the curve of your throat.

“You do not understand.”

His lips brush the edge of your ear, a caress disguised as a reprimand.

“This is not defiance.” His voice darkens slightly, tightening with restrained frustration. “This is denial of what already is, little star.”

You tense, shivering slightly beneath his hold, but he only draws you tighter, guiding you slowly away from the garden and toward the enormous bed.

His hands never leave you. They mold and coax, turning your resistance into something pliant and unwillingly receptive.

“I am not angered,” he murmurs as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you easily between his knees. “You misunderstand.”

His eyes glow softly in the darkness,pale, sharp, but impossibly tender in their intensity.

“I am… disappointed.”

The words hit harder than threats. He says them softly, but they slice clean through you.

“I allow you freedom within reason,” he continues quietly, hands stroking your sides, soothing and punishing at once. “But you abuse it. You flee. You risk harm. This… displeases me, deeply.”

You clench your jaw, but the defiance feels hollow now.

Especially as his touch becomes softer, more insistent, sliding up your arms, down your back, curling possessively at your waist.

“And now,” he whispers, voice thick and dark with promise, “I must correct this.”

Your stomach flips violently, but he doesn’t strike. Does not raise his voice. Instead, he shifts, drawing you down with him until you are pressed fully against the bed, against him.

Pinned by nothing but his body and the oppressive weight of his gaze.

“You will not leave my quarters,” he murmurs, words sealing like chains around your wrists.

“You will not sleep apart from me. You will not run again.”

His lips brush your temple softly, terrifyingly gentle.

“You will remain where you belong.”

You try to twist away, you have to, even if only for pride, but his arms tighten, and his mouth finds the curve of your throat.

A soft, open mouthed kiss.

Not hungry.

Not violent.

Claiming.

Your pulse skitters wildly.

“Stop—”

“You do not wish me to,” he says calmly, his lips moving against your skin. “Your body no longer fears me. Only your mind fights.”

He shifts again, sliding you fully beneath him, his weight caging you without urgency. He watches you, eyes glowing faintly, face inches from yours, utterly calm as you tremble beneath him.

“You will stay,” he murmurs again, softer this time.

Not a threat.

Not a command.

A promise.

And something in the finality of it breaks the last fragile thread inside you. You close your eyes tightly, not in surrender, but in desperate resignation.

You do not want to yield, but you already have. Because when he leans down and presses his lips gently, adoringly to your brow, sealing the moment, sealing you.

You don’t push him away.

—

Days pass, or perhaps cycles. Time does not exist in this place the way it once did. There is no sun to rise, no moon to wax and wane.

No ticking clock to count down minutes and hours.

Only Jeongguk.

And you.

And the quiet, suffocating intimacy that has grown between you like ivy, curling slowly around your throat until it becomes easier to stop pulling.

You sleep in his quarters now.

Not by choice.

Not exactly.

At first, it was punishment.

You ran.

You defied.

You disappointed him.

And so he locked you here.

Not with chains or harsh restraints, no, Jeongguk has never needed such crude methods. He uses himself, his presence, his warmth. His voice in the dark, murmuring softly until the silence feels unbearable without it.

At first, you hated every moment.

You lay stiff in his enormous bed, refusing to face him as he wrapped himself around you each night like a living shroud.

But over time… something changed.

Not in him.

In you.

You grew used to the weight of his arm slung heavy across your waist. Used to the steady, soothing hum of his heartbeat against your back. Used to the soft rasp of his voice, speaking words in his language you could not understand but somehow knew were meant for you alone.

What you hate most…

What makes your stomach twist with guilt and confusion…

Is how much easier everything became when you stopped resisting.

—

He rewards you, of course, Jeongguk is not cruel. Not in the ways that would be easier to despise.

He is patient.

Measured.

Dangerously tender.

When you eat without argument, he sits beside you quietly, watching with faint approval gleaming in his luminous eyes.

When you speak to him, simple words, mundane thoughts, nothing of consequence, he listens as though you are unraveling the very fabric of existence.

When you no longer flinch from his touch, he becomes bolder. Fingers brushing lightly along your arms when you sit together. Knuckles ghosting beneath your jaw as he tucks stray hair behind your ear. His hand resting possessively on your thigh as you eat, unmoving, warm and heavy and there.

And at night…

At night, his hands become gentle chains.

They stroke down your spine as you drift toward sleep, curling at your hips, pulling you against the hard, unrelenting comfort of his body. He murmurs softly then, words you cannot translate but no longer fear.

They lull you.

Cradle you.

Somewhere in the dark, something in you gives. You no longer stay awake plotting, no longer pull away, no longer pretend you hate it.

Because the truth is cruel in its simplicity.

You don’t want the cold, hard ache of solitude anymore.

You want warmth.

You want softness.

You want… him.

And Jeongguk knows this.

Oh, he knows.

He doesn’t gloat, does not push. He simply waits, watching patiently as you unravel slowly, inevitably, beneath his endless, unwavering attention.

—

It’s during one of these quiet nights that the shift truly happens. The ship has dimmed to mimic dusk, casting his quarters in soft twilight. You sit together on the wide bed, your legs folded beneath you, Jeongguk lounging beside you like some dark, predatory god.

His hair spills across his bare shoulders, strands shimmering faintly in the low light.

He wears no robes now, only thin, dark fabric that clings softly to the lines of his body, leaving very little to the imagination.

You talk, nothing about Earth. Not about escape, or pain or loss. About nothing and everything. You ask questions you never thought you would.

What does his species eat?

Do they sleep?

Do they dream?

Does he feel loneliness?

What did he think when he first saw you, trembling and furious, caged in his ship like something caught in amber?

He answers softly, thoughtfully.

Not coldly.

Not cruelly.

He tells you he does not dream, but he wonders what it would be like to dream of you. He tells you he does not feel loneliness, but he aches when you look at him as though you do not see him. He tells you that when he first saw you—glowing, furious, refusing death—he felt something break in him that had never mended.

You say nothing to that.

You can’t.

Not when your chest tightens painfully and your throat feels too tight to speak. Not when his words slip beneath your skin like silk and root in the softest, most vulnerable parts of you.

Not when you realize you no longer want to argue.

Silence falls, not uncomfortable, but heavy with something unspoken. His hand rests lightly on your ankle, thumb stroking idly over the bone.

You should pull away.

You don’t.

Instead…you reach. You don’t think about it, your body moves on instinct, craving something you refuse to name. Your fingers brush his wrist softly.

A simple touch. Barely anything at all.

But to Jeongguk, it’s everything. He stills instantly, as though afraid to frighten you. His eyes burn softly, shifting to pale rose and molten silver, glowing faintly in the dark.

“You seek me,” he murmurs, wonder and hunger twining in his voice like threads of silk.

You don’t respond.

You can’t.

Your throat is too tight, your mind too full, but you don’t pull away.

Your fingers curl lightly around his wrist, a tether, a silent plea, a confession you don’t yet have the courage to speak aloud.

His breath catches, you feel it against your palm, soft and in awe. And then, slowly, he shifts closer. His forehead rests lightly against yours, and his voice slides into your mind like a whisper in a dream.

“You are becoming mine,” he breathes, so soft and so full of quiet satisfaction that it makes your chest ache.

“Fully. Finally.”

You close your eyes.

And this time, you do not argue.

Because beneath the fear, beneath the shame, beneath the fragile threads of your resistance…you want.

And wanting is far more dangerous than surrender.

::::::::::::

You knew you shouldn’t have done it.

Even as your bare feet carried you soundlessly through Jeongguk’s darkened quarters, the pulse in your throat hammering wildly, you knew this was foolish.

A fantasy.

An echo of who you used to be.

But somewhere deep down, beneath the soft weight of his endless touches and whispered promises, beneath the reluctant ease you’d begun to feel wrapped in his presence, a spark still remained.

And tonight, that spark burned hot.

You needed to run.

You needed to prove to yourself that he hadn’t hollowed you out completely.

So when he left for only a moment, speaking to the ship, or perhaps another Kaereth vessel, you slipped free.

It didn’t matter that there was nowhere to go.

It didn’t matter that the ship would not let you off.

It only mattered that you could.

So you did.

You ran.

Through softly glowing corridors, past shifting walls that whispered in languages you didn’t understand.

You didn’t make it far.

You never even heard him approach.

But suddenly his presence was there. Behind you, around you. Suffocating and cold.

Your breath caught as the floor beneath your feet pulsed faintly, alive, alerting its master. And then his voice, smooth and sharp as polished steel, sliced through the silence.

“You disappoint me again.”

You freeze, terror and shame colliding painfully in your chest.

Slowly he stepped into view. Jeongguk was radiant in his displeasure.

His dark hair hung loose, shimmering faintly with the ship’s subtle light. His robes are absent now, only thin layers of deep, clinging fabric draped across his powerful body.

His eyes glowed low and cold, pale silver and deep indigo, swirling softly like storm clouds ready to break.

You stepped back instinctively.

But he only followed, slowly, deliberately, until your back hit the cool, seamless wall.

“You still do not understand,” he murmured, voice dangerously quiet. “You still believe you possess will.”

You tried to speak, to beg or explain, but he silenced you with a single gesture.

The wall shifted behind you suddenly, hands of soft, malleable material winding around your wrists, pinning them above your head effortlessly.

You gasped, struggling, but it was useless. The ship responded to him, not you.

Jeongguk stepped closer, until his body pressed flush to yours. Warm and impossibly solid, his presence eclipsing every frantic thought in your head.

“You do not leave,” he whispered darkly, leaning close so his mouth brushed your ear.

“You do not flee.”

His hand slid down slowly, tracing your throat, your collarbone. Lower, until his palm cupped the heat between your thighs.

You stiffened violently, horror and shame crashing through you.

“N-No—” you gasped, writhing helplessly.

But he only hummed softly, pressing his lips to your jaw, his breath scorching.

“Your mouth says no,” he murmured.

“But your body…”

His fingers slid beneath the thin fabric of your shift, stroking through slickness you hadn’t even realized was there.

You choked on a sob—humiliated, furious, and aching.

“See,” he breathed, sounding deeply pleased.

“You hate me. But you crave me.”

You shook your head wildly, tears burning your eyes.

“That’s not true! I—I don’t want—”

But he silenced you again, this time with his mouth. His lips slanted over yours, soft and consuming, his tongue sliding past your lips as though tasting every last shard of your defiance.

You fought.

You twisted and whimpered and tried to hold on to the last threads of your hatred.

But his fingers never stopped moving. Slow, deep strokes. Unforgiving and tender, drawing the heat from you like a cruel promise. Your body trembled violently, shame scorching through you as pleasure tangled with humiliation in a suffocating knot.

You hated this, hated…him.

But your hips arched helplessly into his hand as your thighs shook. Your breath broke apart in desperate, needy gasps.

And Jeongguk knew, of course, he knew.

He pulled back just enough to watch you, eyes glowing like molten silver as he worked you mercilessly toward ruin.

“You are close,” he murmured, voice velvet and vicious all at once.

“Fighting still. How sweet. How foolish.”

You whimpered, high and frantic, as your orgasm crashed over you with terrifying force. You came hard, gasping, sobbing, and writhing helplessly against his palm as he milked every desperate spasm from your ruined body.

But he didn’t stop, even as tears streaked down your face.

Even as you weakly begged, voice breaking, words dissolving into soft, shattered sounds.

“J-Jeongguk— please— I can’t—”

“Yes,” he murmured darkly, removing his hand only long enough to tear your shift aside, baring you completely.

“You can. You will.”

“Yes,” he repeated simply, voice soft as silk and twice as binding. He lifted you effortlessly, spreading your thighs wide as though you weighed nothing at all in his arms. His glowing eyes devoured the sight of your trembling, naked form.

“You will take me now, my little star,” he whispered, impossibly tender, yet with an unmovable certainty that settled deep beneath your ribs.

“You will keep me inside you until you understand. Until you stop running… even in your thoughts.”

You sobbed helplessly, overwhelmed and trembling, as he pressed himself against your dripping heat.

And then, you felt him.

His cock—massive, foreign, and stunning in a terrible, breathtaking way—pushed forward with slow, patient cruelty. Bioluminescent veins shimmered faintly in the dim light, casting soft glows in intricate, elegant patterns across his flushed skin.

Ridges along the shaft shifted and flexed subtly, swirling upward in almost ceremonial tattoos that gleamed like runes, etched into his very being.

The head of it was darker than the rest. Flushed a deeper violet, slick with pearlescent lust that sparkled faintly, streaked through with thin, glowing veins of soft blue and white, like liquid lightning captured in crystal.

He pressed the head against your entrance, and you felt it throb, warm and alive in a way that stole your breath.

“This is what you run from?” Jeongguk murmured, his voice unexpectedly soft, as though you were an incomprehensible thing.

“This is not punishment, little one. Not truly. This is how I teach you. How I make you understand.”

You whimpered, hips arching involuntarily as his cock began to stretch you slowly open, each ridge catching deliciously against sensitive nerves that made your vision blur. The invasion was devastatingly thorough—deeper, thicker, more filling than any human man could ever hope to be.

“You will feel me here,” Jeongguk whispered, his lips ghosting over your cheek as he thrust deeper still, “long after this moment fades. You will feel me when you dream. When you wake. When you touch yourself, wishing you hated me still.”

You sobbed, body caught between devastation and unbearable need.

And he kissed your tears away—tenderly. Worshipfully.

“Let go,” he coaxed softly, rolling his hips with unhurried cruelty. “Cease your fighting, sweet treasure. Let me in.”

You cracked.

Your body shuddered violently as the ridges and heated, glowing veins massaged every trembling part of you. Forcing desperate cries from your lips. When his cock bottomed out inside of you, the pressure was indescribable. Filling. Claiming.

And then as his hips snapped forward and he began to fuck you properly, dragging the swollen ridges along your tender walls, his hunger flooded you in slow pulses.

It was warm.

So warm, like molten silk spreading through your core. Your abdomen tightened and tingled, the heat melting upwards, radiating outward like a drugged haze wrapping itself around your very soul. You sobbed brokenly as your womb clenched in greedy spasms, as though your entire body craved more.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Jeongguk whispered, awe thick in his voice now, tender and dark. “You feel me marking you. Taking root inside you.”

You couldn’t speak.

Too lost to the intense, shimmering pleasure that made your head spin. His cum drugged you, thick and electric and numbing all at once—like a lover’s cruel gift, locking you in ecstasy you hadn’t consented to but couldn’t possibly refuse.

“You will never forget this,” he murmured, slowing his pace only to grind deeply, forcing another shocked moan from your swollen lips.

“Even if you try. You will dream of the way your body melts when I fill you. You will remember how your womb warms and welcomes me. Forever.”

You gasped, locking up as another orgasm ripped through you violently—intensified, devastating, addictive.

“Yes,” Jeongguk groaned harshly, hips jerking forward one final time as he came deep inside you—hot and endless and thick, filling every desperate part of you with searing, possessive heat.

You shattered with him, writhing helplessly as your body drank down his essence greedily. So much that you swore you could feel the warmth blooming deep inside, hugging your uterus like a numbing heat pad pressed from within.

When it was over, when you collapsed against him, boneless and shaking, he kissed you.

Soft. Gentle. Almost heartbreakingly sweet.

“You will never run again,” Jeongguk whispered against your lips, cupping your jaw delicately even as his cock stayed buried inside you, keeping every last drop where it belonged.

And the way your arms weakly clung to his shoulders, seeking more, needing more, aching for more, made it clear…

You wouldn’t.

Not anymore.

—

You sleep deeply that night, for the first time since the sky cracked open and swallowed your world whole, you dream.

It is not of Earth. Not of family or freedom or loss.

You dream of him.

Of heat.

Of skin.

Of being filled so completely that even in sleep, your body aches in quiet, humming pleasure.

When you wake, it lingers.

The ache.

The need.

You shift beneath the dark, silken sheets, thighs pressing together instinctively as your body clenches softly around absence. You whimper without meaning to, soft and pathetic, the sound falling heavy into the dim, warm air.

He is already there.

Of course he is.

You are not sure if Jeongguk ever truly sleeps. Or if he simply waits, quietly vigilant, watching you slip deeper and deeper into his.

He watches you now, lounging against the massive headboard, hair spilling in waves down his broad bare chest, eyes glowing faintly in the low light.

Hungry.

Softly.

Patiently.

As though he knows, as though he feels what your body is quietly, shamefully begging for.

Your cheeks burn, but you do not look away.

You can’t.

He tilts his head slightly, dark amusement flickering faintly across his beautiful, inhuman features. “You ache,” he says softly, his voice sliding through the air like silk across bare skin.

You swallow tightly, fingers clenching the sheets.

“You—you made me—”

“Yes,” he interrupts smoothly, a faint smirk curling his lips. “I made you feel. I made you beg. I made you mine.”

Your throat tightens. Because you want to deny it. You want to cling to the last fragile shreds of dignity still hidden deep beneath your skin.

But you are so empty.

And he is so full.

Full of patience.

Full of heat.

Full of devastating knowledge about every inch of your trembling, traitorous body.

“Come here,” he murmurs.

You hesitate, not out of defiance, but out of terror of how much you want to. But your body decides for you as you crawl across the wide expanse of the bed slowly, soft gasps leaving your lips as cool air kisses your sensitized skin.

Every movement feels obscene.

Desperate.

Shameless.

By the time you reach him, your hands press against his thighs, broad, hard, and warm. And you can’t help the needy way your nails dig in slightly.

He hums low, pleased, fingers threading gently through your hair. “So eager now,” he murmurs, fond and filthy at once. “So pliant. Do you remember when you hated this?”

You glare up at him weakly, but the heat pooling between your legs betrays you.

“I still do,” you whisper hoarsely.

Jeongguk smiles, slow and devastatingly fond. “No, little star,” he breathes, tugging you gently forward until you straddle his lap, flushed and panting and already dizzy with need.

“You only hate that you love it now.”

His hands slide up your sides slowly, but firm enough to make you tremble. Thumbs brushing over your aching nipples, and you arch helplessly, a soft cry slipping past your lips.

“You crave this,” he whispers, voice dipping lower, turning molten and wicked.

“You crave me.”

You shake your head weakly but he only chuckles, leaning in to drag his tongue slowly along the curve of your throat.

“Your body says otherwise,” he murmurs against your skin, the words vibrating deep into your bones. “You are soaked, my sweet treasure,” he continues, switching now to his alien tongue.

The words ripple through your mind. Dark, erotic, incomprehensible yet intimate, sliding into your subconscious like smoke. You moan softly, the strange cadence of his language making your stomach flutter violently.

“You want me to fill you again,” he purrs, switching back seamlessly. “You want me deep, here.”

His fingers slide between your thighs, finding you dripping and already clenching desperately. You sob softly, biting your lip hard enough to hurt as he teases and toys with your cunt, stroking softly but refusing to push inside.

“Jeongguk—please.”

He groans softly, eyes burning now, pale silver and violent rose swirling madly as he watches you fall apart.

“Beg properly,” he demands softly, his voice suddenly sharp with command. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Shame wars with need, but it is no contest. Your hips roll helplessly against his fingers, and when he pulls back slightly, you nearly sob in frustration.

“Please—please fuck me—”

“More.”

“Please, I need you inside me, need you to fill me, need to feel you— Jeongguk—”

He growls, deep and dark, before flipping you effortlessly onto your back, spreading your thighs wide with firm, unrelenting hands.

“So sweet,” he murmurs, lowering himself between your legs. “So open. So desperate. This is what I have wanted, what you were always meant for.”

You can only whimper in response as his mouth covers you. Hot, wet, and merciless. He devours you greedily, tongue stroking and swirling, teeth scraping softly in ways that make you writhe and gasp and cry out helplessly.

“Perfect,” he murmurs against your slick heat. “My perfect, pliant treasure.”

You come once, then twice. So hard and fast you can’t even form words, only sobs and gasps and broken sounds of yes, yes, please, more.

And Jeongguk gives you more.

He pushes inside you while you are still shaking, filling you in one slow, brutal thrust that steals every ounce of air from your lungs. “Mine,” he growls, hips snapping forward, dragging soft, wet sounds from where your bodies meet.

“Say it. Say you are mine.”

You choke on your own moans, but you say it, scream it.

“Yours, yours—fuck—I’m yours!”

His thrusts become frantic, deep and devastating, pushing you higher, further, faster than you thought possible. You sob and cling to him, nails raking his back, thighs locking tight around his waist as he drives you both toward madness.

“Never leaving,” he hisses, biting softly at your throat. “Never without me again. You are home now.”

You nod wildly, barely able to think past the relentless pleasure.

“Yes—yes—Jeongguk please—don’t stop—”

He doesn’t.

He fucks you through every orgasm, through every broken cry, through every whispered admission of how badly you need him. When he finally spills inside you, he kisses you softly, sweet and adoringly even as his cock pulses deep within your spent, ruined body.

“Mine,” he whispers again, softer now.

Forever.

You fall asleep against his chest, trembling and full, and do not dream of escape. You only dream of his touch.

And for the first time…

That does not terrify you at all.

::::::::::::

You don’t remember when the fight truly left you. It didn’t crack and shatter all at once — no.

It eroded.

Slowly.

Softly.

Like waves kissing the edges of a jagged stone until only smoothness remains. You woke one cycle and realized you had stopped counting how long you had been aboard the ship.

Stopped wondering if anyone would come.

Stopped missing the ache of gravity and sky and home.

Because your world had become him.

And Jeongguk, he made it easy to forget. He is always near. Not hovering, not threatening.

Present.

Everywhere.

Always.

When you wake, he is there. Smoothing his palm gently over your bare hip as he murmurs soft things in his language, coaxing you from sleep with kisses and slow, lazy touches.

When you eat, he is there. Sitting across from you, observing your every reaction as the ship’s interface morphs alien sustenance into facsimiles of the foods you once loved.

He listens when you sigh about fresh strawberries.

He watches when your eyes glaze longingly at the memory of soft, buttered bread.

He remembers.

And then, quietly and with no fanfare, he provides. The next meal, there it is. Not exact, not quite right. But close enough to make your chest ache and tears sting your eyes as you chew slowly, overwhelmed by the gesture.

Jeongguk watches it all.

Always watching.

Satisfied.

As though fulfilling you, piece by piece, is what gives him purpose.

And perhaps… it is.

—

He shows you the ship, not all at once, but slowly, over many gentle, winding cycles.

You no longer wear the thin shifts he first gave you. He drapes you in flowing fabrics now, soft and weightless, clinging lovingly to your skin in pale, luminous colors.

You are beautiful in them.

He tells you so often, in whispers and kisses and soft growls as he presses you into the walls, the floors, his mouth hot and hungry on your throat.

He leads you through chambers you could never have imagined. Sectors where bioluminescent plants twist and bloom in gravity defying spirals. Pools of softly glowing liquid, warm and soothing to the touch, that you wade into with sighs of contentment. A conservatory where alien birds flicker between translucent trees, their songs harmonizing eerily with the ship’s ambient hum.

But your favorite place is the garden.

His garden.

You are allowed there freely now, naked sometimes, or dressed in the soft, flowing robes he favors on you. You walk barefoot on strange, sponge soft moss, fingers brushing along vines heavy with fragrant blossoms.

And Jeongguk always follows, watchful.

His eyes track you with quiet worship, glowing softly as you lose yourself in the alien beauty of his world. He likes when you forget to fear him. He likes when you hum softly to yourself, or tilt your face toward the artificial sun he created just for you in the center of the atrium. When you smile faintly, unaware of him watching.

Those are the moments he always takes you.

—

You lose track of how many times he has taken you, because there are no longer clear lines. There is no fucking and lovemaking—there is only him, and how he worships you.

He fucks you into the bed, into the walls, against the glass overlooking endless space.

He makes love to you in the garden, slow and molten and devastating, whispering filthy alien phrases that make you clench and writhe and sob his name. He devours you in the pools, pulling orgasms from you lazily as though drinking from a fountain he intends to drain dry.

It is endless.

It is overwhelming.

It is addictive.

Some nights, you come so many times you fall asleep between his thighs, lips sore, body aching sweetly, utterly ruined.

Other nights, he takes hours simply to make you ache. Touching, kissing, murmuring, until you’re begging and trembling, leaking and desperate in his arms.

“You are never empty,” he whispers often, mouth hot against your throat as he thrusts deep and slow, filling you until your belly feels heavy with him.

“You are never without me.”

You nod when he says this.

Because it is true.

His touch clings to your skin long after he pulls away. His cum warms and coats your thighs when you sleep. His mouth, his hands, his voice. They weave through your every waking thought, soft chains you have long since stopped tugging against.

There is no reality anymore.

Not outside of him.

Not outside of his ship.

Not outside of this.

You belong to him.

Not just because he claimed you.

Not because he broke you.

But because you want to.

And when he holds you close in the endless quiet of space, whispering promises of eternity, of worlds he will show you, of forever at his side, you believe him.

And worse…you hope for it.

—

You do not know how much time has passed since your surrender began. You do not count cycles anymore. You do not mark meals. You do not dream of Earth.

You only exist in soft, endless now.

In the warmth of his arms. In the steady hum of the ship. In the way he touches you, not like a possession anymore, but like you are part of him.

And perhaps you are.

He whispers things sometimes when he thinks you are asleep. Soft words in his native tongue. Caresses so gentle they feel like prayers pressed against your skin.

He tells you of stars you will visit. Of galaxies only Kaereth royalty have walked.

Of eternity.

He speaks of eternity often now.

Not as threat.

Not as warning.

As promise.

—

It begins without announcement, no sharp change in routine, no cold demand. Only Jeongguk, cradling you softly against his chest as you lay tangled together on the bed, voice low and uncharacteristically hesitant.

“It is time.”

You stir slowly, heavy with sleep and satiation. “Time for what?” you murmur, voice rough and thick with drowsy contentment.

His lips brush against your temple.

“For what should have always been, my little star,” he says gently. “For forever.”

You blink slowly, confusion weaving through the pleasant haze in your mind. His arms tighten slightly.

“The ritual,” he murmurs, almost shyly now. “Kaereth do not simply claim. They bind. When a mate is chosen… there must be permanence. Ceremony. Union.”

You tense slightly, instinct pulling at old fears, but he soothes you immediately, his touch soft and endlessly patient.

“You do not have to fear,” he promises, kissing along your cheek with unbearable tenderness. “The Kaereth binding ritual is not violent. It is tender.”

“You are already mine. This is only affirmation.”

You swallow thickly, heart pounding strangely in your chest. Part of you wants to refuse. Part of you wants to cling to the last fragment of your own name, your own shape.

But that part… is so small now.

So soft.

So tired.

And when you meet his eyes,glowing pale and molten silver, heated and brimming with unspeakable longing, you nod.

You whisper, “Yes.”

And his entire being shudders with pleasure.

::::::::::::

You don’t dress for the ritual, Jeongguk forbids it. “Skin to skin,” he murmurs, his voice carrying the weight of law as he guides you through the glowing veins of the ship. “No barriers. No pretenses. We meet now as we were always meant to. Unmade and remade in the raw truth of one another.”

The chamber he brings you to does not belong to any realm you know. It is dark, endless, humming with a resonance too ancient for words.

The floor gleams faintly beneath your bare feet, liquid starlight swirling like whispers from a thousand forgotten worlds.

The walls pulse in rhythm, steady, solemn, alive, as though the ship itself holds its breath, bearing witness to what is to come.

Jeongguk draws you backward into his embrace, his hands firm as they curve over your body, memorizing each rise and fall like sacred scripture. “You must offer yourself freely,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the tender shell of your ear, his voice as soft and unrelenting as a vow.

“Desire must be the altar. Willingness the flame. Speak it—not only to me, but to the vessel that carries us between stars. Let the void itself know your yearning.”

Your breath catches, but the words rise from your soul with aching clarity.

“I want this.”

At once, the chamber responds.

The air thickens, lush and heavy as though unseen deities lean close, eager and enraptured.

The floor brightens beneath you, starlight reaching, cradling, adoring. Jeongguk turns you slowly, adoration carved into every movement, as though you are the holiest of offerings.

He lifts you easily, effortlessly, as if gravity itself bends in submission to the rite unfolding between you.

He carries you to the heart of the radiant expanse, laying you down as though to place you before celestial judges, his touch a prayer unto itself. When he speaks again, his voice is no longer mortal.

“This is consecration,” he intones, sliding between your thighs, his every movement graceful and deliberate, dictated by some divine choreography.

“Not of chains. Not of suffering. But of convergence.”

He presses forward, entering you in one unhurried, devastating thrust, filling you so completely it feels as though your soul fragments and rejoins in the same breath.

“Bound in breath,” he whispers, lips brushing yours like the gentlest psalm. “Bound in pulse. Bound in the quietude where existence fades and only we remain.”

His hips move slowly, each thrust purposeful, each withdrawal a supplication. Every motion speaks of patience, of worship, of eternity folding gently around the fragile wonder of now.

“Bound in rapture,” he breathes, as your body arches and tears burn behind your eyes. “In pleasure deeper than flesh. In surrender beyond fear. In the marrow of longing made manifest.”

Your hands clutch at him, desperate and trembling, as emotion and sensation braid together, unspooling you at the seams. He continues, his words pouring over you like sacred oil.

“You are mine,” he declares softly, but with a gravity that feels immutable. “Not owned. Not caged. But chosen. Desired beyond logic. Worshipped beyond measure.”

He thrusts deeper still, and the stars themselves seem to keen softly in resonance. “You will never know emptiness again,” he vows, voice tight with holy hunger.

“My essence will fill you, until the very stars inscribe your name beside mine. Until the void itself kneels before our union.”

You cry out, broken open, undone, yet remade in the furnace of his worship. “Please,” you whisper, though no prayer seems enough.

His rhythm grows, still tender yet laced now with relentless fervor. The predator made priest, the lover made eternal.

“Say it,” Jeongguk commands, his voice edged with divine demand. “Seal the oath. Let the cosmos hear and etch it into its bones.”

You shatter, your orgasm consuming you wholly. A tidal wave of surrender crashing through body and spirit alike.

“Forever,” you sob, raw and radiant with belief. “Forever, Jeongguk. Forever.”

His growl follows, deep and resonant, alien than man, more celestial than alien as he empties himself within you. His essence sealing the covenant in ways far beyond comprehension.

The room erupts in light, no longer just glowing, but singing.

A song of union.

A hymn of completion.

Jeongguk clutches you tightly, his lips frantic against your sweat slick skin as he whispers benedictions between each kiss. “You are bound now,” he whispers fiercely, voice a litany of devotion and awe.

“Your soul, entwined with mine until suns collapse and the void forgets how to hunger. The end of being itself will tremble before the truth of us.”

And as you cling to him, spent, filled, irrevocably his, you feel it. The absence of Earth. The fading echo of your past self.

There is only now.

Only Jeongguk.

Only eternity.

And you do not fear the endless night that stretches before you.

You crave it.

You welcome it.

You belong to it.

—

Time has long since stopped meaning anything to you. Cycles became months, months became years. And years…you no longer know. Nor do you care. Because eternity, as Jeongguk once promised, is not a cold, empty void.

It is warm.

Soft.

Endless.

It lives in the quiet hum of the ship, atuned now to your presence, responding to your touch, your voice, your desires.

It lives in the alien worlds that bloom before your eyes. Stars and planets unknown to your old, forgotten Earth self, offered to you like flowers pressed between the pages of a lover’s letter.

It lives in Jeongguk.

Always, Jeongguk.

—

You are no longer the woman who clawed and scratched and screamed for freedom. She faded quietly, slipped from her skin the night you bound yourself to him.

The night he made you his forever.

Now…you are more, you are his Consort.

The ship’s systems recognize your presence before any other. Doors ripple open in welcome. Lights dim or brighten in response to your moods. The living flora bends subtly toward you when you pass, as though paying silent tribute to their queen.

“My Consort will dine with me.”

Jeongguk only ever calls you by your title now when addressing the ship or his crew.

“My Consort desires warmth in the garden.”

“My Consort wishes to see the stars from the obsidian chamber.”

And when you are alone…

When you lay beneath him, wrapped in endless sheets and marked from endless nights of his mouth and hands and cock dragging moans from your lips until you are wrecked and sobbing.

He does not call you Consort.

He calls you everything.

“My treasure.”

“My star.”

“My forever.”

—

You have visited worlds now.

Jeongguk keeps you close, always within arm’s reach when you step from the ship. Alien beings kneel or bow or lower their gazes when they see you.

Not because they fear you, but because they know.

You are his.

And through him, powerful beyond measure.

You remember the first diplomatic council Jeongguk brought you to. The air was thick with esteem as beings of every shape and color turned to face the Kaereth leader who ruled this corner of the galaxy. And at his side, on a throne grown from living obsidian, veins of silver and violet pulsing gently through the arms and back, sat you.

Draped in silk spun from creatures that floated gently in the upper atmosphere of worlds you could not name.

Jewels from stars that had long since collapsed woven into strands and hung delicately from your throat. Jeongguk did not speak first.

He merely tilted his head slightly and every being turned to face you.

“Speak, Consort,” he murmured then, his fingers curling lazily around yours, his voice full of quiet pride and unrelenting devotion.

“What pleases you?”

That was all it took.

Your desires became law that day.

And ever since.

—

But your favorite moments are still the quiet ones. The ones where his titles and the ship and alien worlds fall away. When you are nothing but soft skin and softer sighs. When he worships you with his mouth, drawing orgasms from you as though sustaining himself on them.

When he fills you slowly, murmuring in his language, still dark, still filthy, but now tinged with awe and quiet desperation.

“I will never tire of this,” he whispers often as he pushes deep, rolling his hips slowly to press against the spot that makes your breath stutter and your thighs shake.

“I will never stop. Not until you are full of me, every cycle, every hour, forever.”

And you?

You only clutch him tighter. You only moan his name. Because somewhere along the way, you stopped resisting pleasure. You stopped resisting him. And now, there is only hunger.

Ravenous, endless hunger.

Not just for sex, though that is constant and devastating. Not just for his body, though it is the only thing that feels real some days.

But for him.

For his voice, soft and low when he whispers your name against your throat. For his hands, rough and gentle as they map the shape of you over and over again. For his devotion, that terrifying, beautiful thing that never wavers.

You are addicted to it.

Addicted to him.

And you never want to stop.

—

Even now, as you lay in the garden he built just for you, its vines curling protectively overhead, Jeongguk’s head resting contently between your thighs as he lazily drags his tongue over your overstimulated cunt, coaxing yet another orgasm from your trembling body.

You think of Earth.

Not wistfully.

Not longingly.

But distantly.

Like a dream you woke from long ago.

Blurry and irrelevant.

You moan softly, fingers curling tightly in his soft hair as he groans against you, the vibration sparking more pleasure that threatens to unravel you completely.

He lifts his head slightly, eyes glowing pale silver and pink in the soft bioluminescence, and smiles.

Soft.

Devastated.

Endlessly in love.

“You will never leave me,” he whispers, worshipful and certain. “You belong here. With me. Always.”

You whimper, too far gone to speak, but you nod. Because it’s true. You have not just been claimed.

You have chosen.

And when he slides up your body slowly, covering you with his weight and kissing you deeply, his cock slipping easily back inside you with a low, content sigh, You cling to him like salvation.

You are his.

His Consort.

His forever.

His everything.

And as you fall apart beneath him again, body and soul already shattered and rebuilt countless times in his arms.

You know you will never, ever want anything else again.

one | masterlist

[chimcess]

⮞ Chapter Three: Not For Me Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Taehyung x Reader, Jungkook x OC) Other Tags: Convict!Jungkook, Escaped Prisoner!Jungkook, Piolet!Reader, Captain!Reader, Holyman!Namjoon Genre: Sci-Fi, Action, Adventure, Thriller, Suspense, Strangers to Enemies to ???, Slow Burn, LOTS of Angst, Light Fluff, Eventual Smut, Third Person POV, 18+ Only Word Count: 22.4k+ Summary: When a deep space transporter crash-lands on a barren planet illuminated by three relentless suns, survival becomes the only priority for the stranded passengers, including resourceful pilot Y/N Y/L/N, mystic Namjoon Kim, lawman Taemin Lee, and enigmatic convict Jungkook Jeon. As they scour the hostile terrain for supplies and a way to escape, Y/N uncovers a terrifying truth: every 22 years, the planet is plunged into total darkness during an eclipse, awakening swarms of ravenous, flesh-eating creatures. Forced into a fragile alliance, the survivors must face not only the deadly predators but also their own mistrust and secrets. For Y/N, the growing tension with Jungkook—both a threat and a reluctant ally—raises the stakes even higher, as the battle to escape becomes one for survival against the darkness both around them and within themselves. Warnings: Strong Language, Side Character Death, Main Character Death, Aliens, Vicious Carnivorous Aliens, Violence, Blood, Jungkook is a huge prick, Cocky too, Talks About Past Characters Dying, Trauma Bonding, Bickering, Arguing, If Kook is a prick then Lee is a dick, Child Death, Graphic Death Scenes, Sexual Tension, Y/N is just trying her best, Jaded Characters, Religious Themes (I mean no harm and do not want to offend anyone), Bad Character Choices, Peter is Iconic (and a dumb ass), Surviving, Alcohol Consumption, Aliens killing A LOT of people, SUSPENSE, ANGST, Lee is genuinely the WORST person here, and he's in competition with a murderer so, I love how much of a jerk JK is, In Namjoon we trust, This is all angst and action and that's pretty much it, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Be prepared... there's a lot of deaths. Proceed with caution. Thanks for reading!

prev || masterlist || next

At first, it looked like smoke, curling up from the jagged hills, coiling in long tendrils that slithered through the night. It moved strangely, as if it had a will of its own, twisting unnaturally against the wind. The survivors stood in uneasy silence, their breath held tight in their throats, until realization hit them all at once. This was not smoke. It was something else entirely.

The sound that followed was unlike anything they had ever heard—an eerie symphony of clicks, shrieks, and chittering wails that slashed through the air like a serrated blade. Then came the wings. Sharp, sleek, cutting through the encroaching dark with a deadly precision. They poured from the craggy spires in relentless waves, an unholy swarm shrieking with the sheer exhilaration of nightfall. The sky churned as they spread out, blotting out what little light remained, turning the world into a writhing, living storm.

Lee’s voice broke through the rising panic, hoarse and disbelieving. “Jesus… how many of them can there be?”

More poured forth, a tide of grotesque bodies, their numbers beyond comprehension. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if the creatures might pass them by, seeking prey elsewhere, but the illusion shattered in an instant. As if guided by some unseen intelligence, a portion of the swarm peeled away, shifting course, heading straight for them.

Peter’s voice wavered, his panic barely contained. “Uh… just a thought, but maybe we should flee?”

Y/N’s voice cut through the tension, sharp, commanding. “Cargo hold! Everyone, move! Now!”

Her words ignited action. The ground trembled under their pounding footsteps as they sprinted toward the hold, the swarm closing in behind them. Y/N reached it first, spinning just inside the hatch, her heart lurching when she saw Jungkook and Bindi still outside, running full tilt toward safety. Against the backdrop of the roiling sky, they were little more than silhouettes, illuminated by the sickly glow of the creatures’ bioluminescent wings.

Then, the swarm descended.

It was a storm of wings and talons, a living maelstrom slicing through the air with horrifying speed. The shrieking mass swept over them like a black tide, the force of it nearly knocking them from their feet. Jungkook and Bindi hit the ground in unison, flattening themselves against the earth as the creatures surged overhead, their razor-edged wings slicing the air just inches above them.

Bindi lay frozen, her chest rising and falling in shallow gasps, her fingers clawing into the dirt as if trying to anchor herself against the chaos. Jungkook, in contrast, was eerily still. His face was unreadable as he watched the creatures swirl above them, something akin to fascination gleaming in his dark eyes. Slowly, he lifted a crude bone-shiv, holding it aloft like an offering. Then, with the detached curiosity of a scientist, he thrust it into the heart of the storm.

The blade vanished in an instant, shredded into nothingness by the relentless flurry of wings. Jungkook tilted his head slightly, as if calculating the swarm’s efficiency, as if filing away every piece of information with eerie precision.

“Bindi!” Leo’s voice rang out from the cargo hold, frantic. “Stay down! Don’t move!”

Bindi’s gaze snapped toward the sound, a flicker of hope breaking through her terror. She began to crawl, inching forward, her elbows digging into the dirt. Every movement felt like an eternity, the world narrowing to the frantic pounding of her heart. The swarm churned above, shrieking and shifting, and for a moment, it seemed as though she might make it.

Then, the hatchlings turned.

With horrifying speed, the swarm adjusted course, locking onto her like a pack of starving wolves. The noise rose into a deafening crescendo, a thousand clicking jaws converging all at once.

“No.” Y/N’s voice was barely more than a whisper, thick with dread. “No, no, no, no—”

The creatures struck like a living flood. One second, Bindi was crawling toward salvation; the next, she was engulfed. Her scream barely made it past her lips before it was swallowed by the storm. The hatchlings twisted around her, a vortex of writhing bodies lifting her into the air. For a split second, they could still see her, limbs flailing, before she was pulled higher, vanishing into the swirling mass above.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Inside the cargo hold, the survivors stood frozen, their faces pale, their breath caught in their throats. They had seen it. They had watched as she was taken, as if the night itself had devoured her. The creatures carried her upward, over the horizon, until there was nothing left but the empty void.

Jungkook remained where he was, motionless amid the settling dust. His gaze never left the darkened sky, tracking the last remnants of the swarm as they disappeared. Then, slowly, he rose to his feet. He dusted the dirt from his hands, his movements methodical, unhurried. He turned toward the cargo hold, walking with deliberate steps, as if nothing had changed.

Inside, the others still hadn’t moved. Fear clung to them, thick as smoke, suffocating. Y/N opened her mouth, her mind scrambling for something—anything—to say, when a new sound began to rise.

Click. Click. Click.

At first, it was faint, distant, like stones tapping together. But it grew louder, sharper, echoing through the heavy air. The space around them seemed to shift, the very atmosphere thickening with something unseen, something waiting.

Y/N felt it then. A cold knot tightening in her gut. She knew that sound.

Jungkook…” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tremor of fear lacing her words. “What’s happening?”

Jungkook paused just outside the cargo hold, his gaze fixed on the crumbling spires in the distance. The faint light reflected off his goggles as he pulled them off, revealing eyes that gleamed unnervingly in the dim glow. His expression was unreadable, his attention locked on the distant, dying spires, as if the answers were written in the ruins.

The hills were collapsing, their jagged peaks groaning under the weight of their own destruction. The ground trembled, as if the very earth itself was giving way. From the crumbling cliffs, massive shapes began to emerge, each one deliberate and purposeful. Unlike the hatchlings that had surged forth with chaotic energy, these creatures moved with cold calculation. Their hammer-shaped heads swayed as they stepped into the open, each movement slow but precise, every click of their joints sharp and rhythmic, reverberating against the surrounding cliffs. Their bodies were unnervingly mammalian, slick, sinewy flesh that gleamed faintly under the dim light, an unsettling reminder that something monstrous had been waiting just beneath the surface.

“What is it? What do you see?” Y/N’s voice trembled, a raw edge creeping in as she fought to contain her rising panic.

Jungkook’s voice broke through the heavy silence, his tone low, almost amused. “The grown-ups,” he murmured, a dark smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Told you... ain’t me you gotta worry about.”

Above them, the twin suns were eclipsed by the planet’s rim, plunging the world into an unnatural darkness. The stars were hidden, swallowed by a storm of predators that surged forth from the shattered hills. The atmosphere felt thick, oppressive, as if the very air was charged with impending doom.

Inside the cargo hold, Y/N slammed her hand against the control panel. The thick, vault-like doors hissed and groaned as they slid shut, sealing the survivors inside. The sound of the lock engaging echoed in the chamber, sharp and final.

The space inside the hold was unbearably small, the air heavy with tension and fear. Bodies crowded the room, their presence amplifying every creak and groan of the metal hull. Flashlights flickered to life, casting long, jittery shadows on the walls. Every scrape of metal, every distant noise felt amplified, as though the creatures outside were testing the strength of their temporary sanctuary.

Y/N leaned against the cold metal wall, her heart hammering as she tried to make sense of the chaos that had unfolded so suddenly. Around her, the others stood motionless, their faces pale, drawn, and tight with fear. Each person was lost in their own private terror, the silence between them thickening with every passing second.

But even in the stillness, the clicking persisted, growing louder, closer. It was relentless, a sound that crawled under their skin, twisting the air with its chilling rhythm.

Leo sat hunched against the cold wall, his knees pulled to his chest, his voice barely audible. “What if... what if she’s still out there? Still alive?” His eyes darted from one face to the next, searching for a glimmer of hope in their expressions.

Lee, leaning casually against the opposite wall, snorted dryly, a humorless sound that cut through the tension like a blade. His voice was colder than the night pressing against the hull. “Look, I don’t wanna be the guy to burst your bubble, but you remember that boneyard we passed? These might be the charming assholes that wiped out every other living thing on this rock. So unless Bindi’s got superpowers, her knocking on that door anytime soon? That’s about zero squared, buddy.”

Y/N swallowed hard, the memory of the skeletal remains flashing in her mind. She closed her eyes against it, but it wouldn’t go away. “I saw the cut marks on the bones,” she said quietly. “That wasn’t natural. Something butchered them.”

“Quiet, please,” Namjoon’s voice interrupted, cutting through the rising tension. He held up a hand, pressing his ear against the thick cargo door, his face drawn tight with concentration. His senses were tuned to the smallest of details, every sound scrutinized for meaning.

The others fell silent, breaths shallow and synchronized, as they strained to hear past the metal barrier. The clicking continued, a distant storm of noise that swept past outside, growing louder, then fading away again into the night.

Leo’s voice broke the silence, laced with fear. “What do they even do that for? Why do they make that sound?”

Namjoon’s brow furrowed, his calm voice betraying a quiet tension. “It may be the way they see... using sound to create a picture of the world.”

“Echo-location,” Y/N murmured, the realization clicking into place. “Like bats. That’s what it is.”

Before anyone could respond, a sharp new clicking sound rang out from behind them. Instantly, their flashlights whipped around, beams of light cutting through the oppressive darkness. The hold seemed to expand, its shadows deepening, stretching outward as if the space itself was becoming more alive.

“Where’s it coming from?” Leo’s voice quivered, his fear seeping into every word.

The lights landed on the darkened gap of an open container halfway down the long, tunnel-like hold. The door swung slightly, nudged by an unseen force.

“How the hell could one of them get in here?” someone muttered, their voice barely above a breath.

Y/N’s voice was sharp, urgent. “Breach in the hull,” she said quickly. “Or maybe the vents. I don’t know.”

The group turned, eyes locking onto Lee, whose expression had soured. He sighed heavily, the weight of their expectations settling on him as they all turned their gaze toward him.

“Goddammit,” he muttered under his breath, reaching for his shotgun. “I’d rather piss glass.”

Jungkook, leaning casually against the wall, smirked faintly. “You’ve got the big gauge, old man. Time to earn your keep.”

Lee shot him a venomous glare, his grip tightening around the shotgun. “Wanna rag your fat mouth a little louder, golden boy? Or you wanna take point?”

The clicking grew louder, now joined by a sharp crash from deeper in the hold. Something heavy had toppled, the sound reverberating off the walls, sending a chill down their spines.

“Big beads,” Jungkook quipped, his smirk widening as the tension mounted.

Lee shook his head, sucking on his breather before stepping forward. “Asshole,” he muttered under his breath.

He moved cautiously toward the open container, shotgun raised, his flashlight cutting a narrow beam through the dark. The clicking echoed all around them, distorted and impossible to pinpoint, as though it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. The air in the hold was thick with the weight of it, the darkness pressing closer with every step.

When Lee reached the container, he paused, his breath shallow, and then fired a blind shot into the shadows. The deafening boom of the shotgun echoed through the cramped space, a violent punctuation to the tension that had been mounting since the first hint of danger. The sharp, pained squeal that followed was short-lived, fading quickly into the silence, leaving behind an eerie stillness.

Easing around the edge of the container, Lee aimed his flashlight inside, the beam slicing through the dark. It landed on a cluster of hatchlings—tiny, malformed bodies, their twitching limbs tangled in pulpy, bloodied heaps. He exhaled slowly, the tension that had been coiled tight in his shoulders easing as he took in the scene.

“Okay,” he called back to the others, his voice steady now. “We’re okay. Just some small ones that must’ve snuck in. Nothing to—”

He never finished the sentence.

From the darkness, something swung out like a scythe. The force of it struck Lee’s shotgun with brutal precision, sending it clattering to the floor with a deafening clang. The weapon discharged, its blast ricocheting off the ceiling in a brief, blinding flash. In that instant, Lee saw it—it.

An adult predator loomed in the shadows, its massive, hammer-like head tilting toward him. The clicking echoed through the tight space, sharp and unsettling, as the creature remained unnervingly still, yet coiled with latent energy, like a spring about to snap. Its skin gleamed sickeningly in the dim light, a sinewy texture that seemed to absorb the glow, swallowing any trace of warmth.

“Shit,” Lee whispered, his voice barely audible, more a prayer than a statement.

Peter shoved past him, face pale, sweat glistening on his brow as his hand flew to the door lever. His voice cracked with panic. “Not staying in here another second—”

Y/N lunged forward, grabbing his arm with a desperate grip, her nails digging into his sleeve. “Christ, Peter, you don’t know what’s out there!” Her voice was sharp, but there was a tremor beneath the words, a raw edge of fear that betrayed her calm façade.

“I know what’s in here!” Peter snapped back, his eyes darting around the darkened space, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “I know what’s in here, and I’m not waiting for it to tear me apart.”

Namjoon stepped forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. His voice cut through the rising panic, calm yet urgent. “Everybody, this way. We’ll be safer deeper in. Hurry, please...” His words were a lifeline, a thread of reason in the madness that threatened to swallow them all.

The air inside the container felt suffocating, thick with the sour tang of sweat and the mechanical hiss of breathers struggling to pull in precious oxygen. No one dared speak as they followed Namjoon, their footsteps hurried and uneven, the metal floor groaning under their collective weight.

Then the sound began—a faint scratching at first, distant and almost imperceptible, like fingernails dragging across steel. But it grew steadily louder, a slow, deliberate scraping that clawed its way through the silence, twisting the air, wrapping around their nerves like a vice.

Lee muttered a curse under his breath, fumbling for the cutting torch strapped to his belt. His hands were slick with sweat, trembling as he finally sparked it to life. The burst of orange light filled the container, illuminating the faces of the survivors, pale and drawn, the shadows dancing wildly on the walls. He adjusted the gas, coaxing the flame to burn brighter, casting an eerie glow across the space.

“Stay back,” he said, his voice tight with tension, as he moved toward the far wall. The glow from the torch cast a sickly halo around the door, pulling every eye toward it, a silent warning of the danger that was closing in.

The scratching escalated into something heavier, more deliberate. Scythe-like claws scraped and probed at the door’s joints, testing its strength, forcing the metal to groan under the pressure. The air thickened with the sound, the reality of the threat inching closer with every scraping, every moment of silence that followed.

Then came the blows. Heavy, calculated strikes that reverberated through the container, sending a shockwave of terror through the survivors. Each strike seemed designed to break them, to force them back into the corner where they had nowhere left to go. The noise was overwhelming, each blow making the metal shudder, forcing them to shrink away.

Jungkook’s voice cut through the tense silence, sharp and irritated. “Can you do something else with that?” He gestured to the cutting torch. “Besides holding it in my fucking face?”

Lee shot him a glare, but didn’t answer. Instead, he turned, focusing once again on the wall in front of him, the torch biting into the metal with a steady, rhythmic crackling. Each spark was like the ticking of a grim countdown.

The scratching outside turned to tearing, a sound of steel being ripped apart, and the blows came faster now—more insistent, more brutal. Each strike shook the container like a drum, and the survivors were pushed further into the corner, their minds racing for any possible escape.

Y/N’s voice was a low, trembling whisper. “Hurry, Lee. Please.”

Lee didn’t respond. His focus was absolute, his eyes locked on the glowing line he was carving into the wall. Behind him, the door groaned again, the metal bowing inward under the relentless assault, bending toward them like an inevitable, crushing force.

Finally, the makeshift escape hatch was open, and Leo scrambled through first, his movements frantic, uncoordinated as he darted for freedom. “Come on!” he hissed, waving his hand wildly for the others to follow.

Behind them, the door gave way. The sound of metal shredding filled the air, a deafening, grinding scream that drowned out every other noise.

The predators came through fast—massive, sleek creatures with hammer-shaped heads and serrated claws, moving with terrifying precision. Their clicking filled the air, a chorus of broken gears grinding together, echoing off the metal walls as they poured into the space. They moved with an unnerving fluidity, sweeping through the container like hunters unleashed. Their echo-location guided them, and their movements were as deliberate as they were deadly, each step an instinctive calculation.

“Go, go, go!” Y/N shouted, her voice raw with urgency as she shoved Peter toward the hole.

The survivors scrambled through the escape hatch, their breaths ragged, hearts pounding. On the other side, Lee wasted no time. He slammed his torch against the edges of the opening, welding the thin sheet of metal shut behind them. The predators thudded against the barrier almost immediately, their claws scraping against the fresh welds with bone-chilling speed.

“Move!” Namjoon barked, his voice slicing through the chaos, compelling them forward.

They sprinted through the adjoining container, but the darkness that met them was suffocating, and the relentless clicking followed them like a shadow. It was a haunting reminder that they weren’t out of danger yet. Lee lit the torch again, its dim glow barely cutting through the thick blackness. He began carving another escape route, each movement swift, but steady. Meanwhile, Y/N and Peter worked feverishly to barricade the entrance, using whatever they could find—crates, loose pipes, their own bodies pressed against the door. But it was never enough.

The predators were relentless. They tore through each makeshift barrier with terrifying speed, each new attack a savage reminder of the creatures’ lethal precision. Every time the survivors scrambled into the next container, the beasts were already at their heels, claws raking through the walls, the clicking growing louder, more frenzied.

In the fifth container, Y/N and Peter hurled their bodies against the barricade, sweat streaming down their faces as they pushed crates, pipes, and loose cargo into place. The screeches and tearing sounds from the predators beyond grew louder, closer, hammering against their fraying nerves. Jungkook stood beside them, bracing his hands against the wall, adding his strength to the effort. But then, he froze.

Something caught his eye—marks on the cargo. At first, they seemed like scratches or grooves, but they were too deliberate, too clean. They were precise cuts, like those made by a predator’s blade. His gaze tracked the marks, following them down to the floor, where faint, glistening smears trailed into the darker recesses of the container.

Jungkook didn’t say a word. Quiet as a shadow, he slipped away from the group, his footsteps muffled against the cold metal floor.

Peter turned his head, his voice trembling with rising panic. “Hello? Jungkook? Where the hell are you going?”

But Jungkook didn’t answer. He moved toward the far end of the container, where the dim glow of Lee’s cutting torch didn’t reach. His boots squelched against something wet, and his pace slowed. He slipped off his goggles, squinting into the deep shadows.

The scene that emerged in the faint light made him stop. Dead hatchlings littered the floor, their twisted bodies scattered like discarded toys. Blood and viscera smeared the metal, the sharp coppery tang filling the air.

Jungkook felt it before he saw it. A ripple in the air, a sense of something alive—watching.

There, perched atop a stack of cargo, was an adolescent predator. Its sinewy body moved with unnerving grace as it tore into the carcass of a hatchling. The creature’s head was crowned with a heavy, bone-like blade that gleamed faintly in the low light. It paused mid-feed, clicking softly as it tilted its head, its scythe-like forelimbs sweeping the air, feeling for vibrations, searching for prey.

Behind him, the group forced open another escape hatch. Leo scrambled through first, followed by Y/N and Lee. Namjoon and Kai lingered, their faces tense as they glanced back toward the darkened depths of the container.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Namjoon’s voice was hushed, tight with concern.

The answer came too late.

Kai turned the corner, his steps faltering as his gaze snapped upward. The adolescent predator loomed above him, its blade descending like a guillotine.

“Don’t. Move.”

Jungkook’s voice cut through the moment, calm and commanding. He emerged from the shadows, every muscle taut, coiled with tension. His gaze locked onto the predator, steady and unblinking.

Kai froze. The creature’s blade grazed his cheek, a shallow cut that welled with blood. The predator clicked, testing, its movements almost clinical, surgical.

Then, another shape loomed behind the first. A second predator, larger, its blade gleaming in the low light as it tested the air.

From the other end of the container, Y/N’s voice echoed, sharp and urgent. “Jungkook? Namjoon? What’s going on?”

Kai’s breath hitched, his eyes darting between the creatures and the open hatch. Panic surged through him, a cold wave of terror. Without thinking, he bolted.

“No—” Jungkook’s warning came too late.

The predators moved as one, a blur of lethal grace. Their blades flashed in the dark, and Kai’s scream tore through the container, high and sharp, before it was abruptly silenced.

Jungkook’s body snapped into motion. He ducked behind a stack of cargo, moving with the predator’s instinct, every step measured and calculated. He darted for the open hatch just as Y/N’s flashlight beam sliced through the darkness.

The light hit him square in the face, and he stumbled, his hand flying up instinctively to shield his eyes. “Turn that off!” he barked.

But the beam moved past him, landing on the predator that had been closing in on his heels. The creature recoiled instantly, letting out a guttural howl. It thrashed wildly, its movements erratic, disoriented, as though the light had burned it.

Y/N froze, her hand trembling as the flashlight shook in her grip. Her mind raced. Did… did that just stop it?

The silence shattered with the deafening blast of Lee’s shotgun, the echo reverberating through the metal walls. He fired blindly into the dark, his face locked in a rictus of adrenaline and fear.

“Stop it! Stop it, STOP IT!” Y/N screamed, shoving Lee hard enough to make him stumble.

“It’s okay,” Lee muttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his hands trembling as he barely kept a grip on the shotgun. “I killed it.”

Disbelief rippled through the group. Before anyone could speak, a sickening thud resonated through the space. A carcass slammed to the floor, twitching weakly, steam rising from the still-warm body.

“Christ,” Peter whispered, his voice barely audible. “He did kill one.”

Y/N swept her flashlight over the creature’s grotesque form. Its charred, sinewy flesh seemed to shrink and crackle under the beam, sizzling as though doused in acid.

“There,” Y/N said quietly, the weight of realization settling in her voice, heavy and unyielding.

Peter leaned closer, his face twisting into an expression that was part disgust, part curiosity. “It’s like the light is scalding it.”

“It hurts them,” Y/N replied, her voice sharpening, taking on an edge of cold certainty. “Light actually hurts them.”

From somewhere in the oppressive shadows beyond the container, the guttural sounds of predators squabbling over a fresh kill reached their ears. The noises were wet, feral, and horribly familiar, a sound they all knew too well.

Namjoon’s face tightened, grief flickering across his usually composed features. He looked at Jungkook, his voice a near whisper. “Is that... Kai?”

Jungkook nodded once, grim and silent, his eyes dark with unspoken thoughts.

The air inside the container grew heavier, thick with the weight of tension that settled in their chests like stones. The cargo piled against the doors and walls—a makeshift barricade no one truly believed would hold for long—felt as fragile as the fleeting hope that had once driven them. Y/N’s handlight was their only source of illumination, its faint glow a fragile lifeline in the vast, suffocating darkness pressing in from every side.

Leo sat huddled against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Normally sharp-tongued and defiant, she looked like a frightened child now, her wide eyes darting nervously to every shifting shadow. Y/N glanced at her, a pang of something deep and bitter twisting in her chest, but she forced herself to focus. Focus on survival.

Y/N’s voice cut through the dark, steady and firm. “Let’s take stock. One cutting torch, one handlight here. Two more flashlights in the cabin, and maybe two after that.”

Peter’s voice, lighter than the situation warranted, held a flicker of tension. “Spirits. Anything over forty-five proof burns well.”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “How many bottles?”

Peter shrugged, a ghost of a grin playing at his lips. “Ten? Give or take.”

“What about the umbrellas?” Y/N’s mind was moving at breakneck speed. “The ones that mist. Could they burn?”

Peter raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Possibly. If you’ve got a receipt and some kerosene handy.”

“Good,” Y/N nodded, her mind already assembling a plan. “Maybe we’ll have enough light to get through this.”

“Enough for what?” Lee’s voice cut in, sharp with skepticism.

“To get the cells back to the skiff,” Y/N answered evenly, her gaze unwavering, daring him to argue.

Lee let out a humorless laugh, leaning back against the wall. “Oh, lady,” he said, voice thick with disbelief. “If you’re in your right mind, I pray you go insane.”

Y/N ignored him, focusing on the group. “We stick to the plan. If we can get four cells back to the skiff, we’re off this rock.”

Peter snorted, shaking his head. “Hate to ruin your beautiful theory with an ugly fact, but that sand-cat won’t run at night.”

“Then we carry the cells,” Y/N’s voice was cold, final. “Drag them. Whatever it takes.”

The floor light flickered, its glow dimming with every passing moment. Y/N glanced at it, jaw tightening, willing it to hold.

“You mean… tonight?” Leo’s voice trembled, fear threading through her words. “With all those things still out there?”

Peter feigned mock cheerfulness, though his voice cracked slightly. “Oh, absolutely. Sounds like a hoot.”

“How long can this last?” Lee’s voice cut through the banter, sharper now, the skepticism replaced with grim reality. “A few minutes? A couple of hours?”

Namjoon spoke softly, reluctant, as if the words carried weight. “The planets are locked together in orbit. There will be lasting darkness.”

Lee’s face twisted in frustration. “The suns have to come back eventually. If these things are scared of light, we wait them out.”

“I’m sure that’s what someone else said. Locked inside that coring room.” Y/N shook her head, her voice like steel. “It’ll last three days. That’s how long it lasted when the other crew was here.”

The implication landed like a hammer, the coring room now a mass grave. The weight of it settled over them all.

Lee exhaled sharply, his voice softer now, almost reasonable. “Look, we have to think about everyone. Especially the kid. How scared is she gonna be out there?”

Y/N’s eyes snapped to him, ice-cold. “Don’t you dare use her as a smokescreen for your own fear.”

Lee straightened, eyes hard, a flash of anger sparking in his gaze. “Hey, why don’t you rag your hole for two seconds and let someone else come up with a plan that doesn’t involve mass suicide?”

A taut silence passed before Y/N’s voice cut through it, calm and deadly, like a blade. “How much do you weigh, Lee?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What the hell does that matter?”

“How much?” Y/N pressed, unwavering.

“Seventy-nine kilos,” he snapped.

Y/N’s gaze didn’t waver. “Because you’re seventy-nine kilos of gutless white meat. That’s why you can’t come up with a better plan.”

Lee lunged at her, fury distorting his features, but Jungkook moved between them with practiced ease. The barrel of Lee’s shotgun bumped lightly under Jungkook’s chin, the air between them humming with tension.

The dim light above cast restless shadows, the space between them vibrating with unspoken animosity.

“Think about that reward, Lee,” Jungkook’s voice was low, almost playful, but the edge in his tone was undeniable.

Lee didn’t flinch. His jaw clenched. “I’m willing to take a cut in pay.”

Jungkook’s smile widened, humorless. “How about a cut in your gut?”

He stepped closer, smooth, predatory, a shiv gleaming faintly in his hand. Small, wickedly sharp, poised with deadly precision, inches from Lee’s stomach.

“Oh, Trash Baby,” Lee growled, his voice carrying a promise of retribution. “You’re gonna regret this.”

The group stiffened, the already suffocating atmosphere thickening, the weight of their situation pressing down like a vice.

“Please,” Namjoon interjected, his voice soft yet firm, as he stepped forward with his hands raised in a calming gesture. He moved with quiet authority, his tone a thin thread of reason trying to weave its way through the tension that hung like a storm in the air. “This solves nothing. Please, both of you.”

For a moment, no one moved. The silence between them was thick, punctuated only by the faint hum of the flashlight and the distant clicking of predators moving through the dark, their movements just out of sight but always felt. It was a silence that pressed against their chests, making the air feel heavier, more oppressive.

It was Lee who relented first. His shoulders tensed as if ready to spring, his fury barely contained beneath the surface. He stepped back, the fire in his eyes not extinguished but held in check, a silent promise of retribution smoldering in the depths of his glare as he turned his attention away from Jungkook.

The light flickered again, a brief, fleeting stutter that caught everyone's attention. The shadows seemed to shift, drawing a little closer, as if daring to swallow the fragile haven the flashlight provided.

“They’re afraid of our light,” Y/N said softly, her voice breaking the silence with a quiet certainty. She crouched down near Leo, her tone calm and measured as she locked eyes with the young girl, who was trembling in the corner. “That means we don’t have to be so afraid of them.”

Leo nodded slowly, her gaze still wide with fear, her trembling hands betraying the unease that clung to her like a second skin.

Namjoon, ever the voice of reason, turned toward Y/N. His brow furrowed in concern, the lines of worry etched across his face. “And you’re certain you can find the way back?”

Y/N hesitated, the weight of his question pressing into her, making the confidence she'd been clinging to waver for the first time. Her eyes flickered briefly to Jungkook, who stood a few paces away, his posture relaxed despite the tension that was so thick in the air. He held the shiv loosely at his side, the blade glinting faintly in the dim light, his expression unreadable, a mask of cool indifference.

“No,” Y/N admitted, her voice steady despite the admission. “I’m not. But he can.”

All eyes turned to Jungkook.

He met their stares without flinching, his lips curling into the faintest of smirks, as if this were all just another game. The calmness in his demeanor was almost unsettling, a stark contrast to the chaos and fear that seemed to infect everyone else like a disease.

“You’re putting your faith in him?” Lee spat, his anger rising again, the edges of his words sharp like broken glass. “The guy who just pulled a blade on me?”

Jungkook tilted his head, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. His dark eyes narrowed just slightly, sizing up Lee with an effortless cool. “Would you rather wander around in the dark and hope for the best? Because you're welcome to try.”

Lee opened his mouth to retort, but Namjoon cut him off, raising a hand to silence the argument before it could flare into something worse.

“Enough,” Namjoon said firmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority. His gaze shifted to Jungkook, his expression unreadable, the tension in his shoulders settling into something closer to resolve. “Can you lead us back? Truly?”

Jungkook’s smirk faded, the playful mask slipping away, revealing something more serious behind his eyes. His shoulders squared slightly, and for a brief moment, the casualness of his demeanor cracked, replaced by a rare sincerity. “I can,” he said simply, his voice low but sure. “But it won’t be easy.”

“Nothing about this is easy,” Y/N said, her voice cutting through the moment like a knife. She stood, brushing dust from her hands, the gesture sharp and decisive. “But it’s a hell of a lot better than staying here and waiting to die.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the decision settling over them, thick and oppressive. There was no easy way out, no guarantee of survival, but at least this offered a chance.

“Fine,” Lee muttered finally, his voice bitter, the words dragging like nails against stone. “But if this goes sideways, don’t expect me to save your ass, Trash Baby.”

Jungkook’s grin returned, albeit colder, tinged with a humorless edge. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied smoothly, pushing off the wall with a fluid motion.

He moved toward the center of the group, slipping the shiv back into his belt with a practiced ease. The light flickered again, but this time, no one remarked on it. They were all too focused on the fragile thread of hope they were about to chase.

“Let’s move,” Y/N said, her voice steady, cutting through the silence like a command.

Jungkook led the way, his steps measured, deliberate, seeing the path that no one else could. The rest of the group fell in behind him, their breaths shallow and their hands clutching their makeshift weapons.

The eclipsing planet dominated half the sky, a silent behemoth that radiated a sense of overwhelming insignificance. Its massive shadow swept across the landscape, blanketing it in an unnatural twilight. Only the faint, golden corona of the sun peeked out from the edges of the eclipse, casting an eerie glow over the terrain. Under this dim light, storm clouds began to gather, their bloated forms heavy with rain or worse.

The crash ship loomed ahead, a jagged silhouette against the horizon. Its hull was scorched and battered, barely standing upright. The survivors worked quickly to pry open the cargo doors, the cutting torch hissing and sparking as it sliced through warped metal. The fiery glow cast fleeting, flickering light over their faces, highlighting the grim determination etched into each one.

Y/N stood just behind the torchbearer, her posture sharp and commanding. The light danced across her face, her eyes focused and unwavering. She scanned the blackened expanse beyond the group, her ears straining against the unsettling symphony of primal sounds that echoed through the encroaching darkness. Deep, guttural growls. Sharp, rhythmic clicks. The occasional high-pitched screech that sent shivers down her spine.

The group moved cautiously, their formation tight like hostages being herded by an unseen captor. The torch led the way, its light a fragile bubble of safety. Each step across the open ground felt agonizingly slow, every crunch of debris underfoot a deafening reminder of how exposed they were.

At last, they reached the crash ship’s main cabin. It loomed before them like a darkened maw, its interior shrouded in shadow. The air was colder here, as if the darkness carried its own chill.

Y/N stopped at the threshold, her instincts prickling with unease. She turned toward Jungkook, who stood at the rear of the group, his goggles pushed up onto his forehead. The faint torchlight caught the sharp glint in his eyes, feline and calculating.

“Jungkook,” she said, her voice quiet but firm, cutting through the tense silence.

He stepped forward, his movements deliberate and fluid, like a predator surveying its territory. He tilted his head slightly, listening, then let his gaze sweep across the cabin’s darkened interior.

After a long pause, he spoke. “It looks clear.”

Lee snorted, muttering something under his breath, and pushed past Jungkook without waiting for further confirmation. He climbed up into the cabin, his boots clanging against the metal floor.

No sooner had he straightened to full height than a sharp, whooshing noise sliced through the air above him. Something small and fast bolted from the shadows, its leathery wings brushing the top of his head as it shot out of the cabin and disappeared into the night.

“Fuck me!” Lee cursed, ducking instinctively. His hand shot to his head, checking for injury as his eyes darted wildly around the cabin. “You said it was clear!”

Jungkook didn’t flinch. He remained at the edge of the cabin, his calm demeanor unshaken. “Said looks clear,” he replied evenly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Lee’s glare could have melted steel. “What’s it look like now?”

Jungkook took another deliberate step forward, peering into the cabin again with an almost languid precision. “Still looks clear.”

Y/N bit back a sigh and climbed into the cabin behind them. “Just get the goddamn lights on,” she muttered, her tone sharp but resigned.

Jungkook let out a soft tongue-click as he followed her inside, a subtle sound of amusement that seemed aimed squarely at Lee. It wasn’t loud, but it carried enough weight to make Lee bristle. The older man turned to shoot him a glare, but Jungkook was already scanning the cabin, his focus elsewhere.

The cabin’s interior was a chaotic mess. Wires hung from the ceiling like vines, swaying slightly in the cool breeze that seeped in through unseen cracks. Broken screens flickered weakly on the control panels, their dying lights casting ghostly flashes across the walls. The faint smell of burnt electronics and charred fabric lingered in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of spilled coolant.

“Peter, help me with the console,” Y/N called, gesturing toward the largest control panel.

Peter scrambled inside, his hands fumbling for the tools in his belt. “On it.”

“Anything moving?” Y/N asked, not looking up from the panel.

“Not yet,” Jungkook replied, his tone casual but vigilant. He lingered near the doorway, his eyes flitting toward every shadow that seemed too deep, every crevice that might conceal a threat.

Behind him, the others filed into the cabin, their nerves fraying as the light from the torch began to sputter and fade.

“Better hurry,” Leo said, her voice trembling as she huddled near the far wall.

Peter muttered a string of curses under his breath as he fiddled with the console. Sparks flew, and for a heart-stopping moment, the cabin plunged into near-total darkness. Then, with a stuttering hum, dim overhead lights flickered on, bathing the cabin in a pale, sickly glow.

“Got it!” Peter exclaimed, a note of relief in his voice.

The group collectively exhaled, but the momentary reprieve was short-lived. Outside, the clicking sounds grew louder, echoing like malevolent whispers carried on the wind.

“They know we’re here,” Jungkook said, his voice quiet but certain.

Y/N’s grip on her weapon tightened. “Then we better not waste any more time.”

Inside the cabin, the survivors moved with the frantic efficiency of people who knew time was their enemy. The dim, flickering cabin lights were no comfort, but they were enough to illuminate their task. Every second spent here felt stolen, borrowed against a debt they weren’t sure they could repay.

Peter crouched by the battery bay, his hands blackened with grease as he yanked out power cells one by one. The hollow clang of metal on metal reverberated through the cabin as he handed each cell off to Namjoon, who threaded nylon cords through the handles with a practiced, almost mechanical motion. Y/N stood nearby, filling the reservoirs of misting umbrellas with high-octane liquor they’d salvaged earlier. The sickly-sweet scent of the alcohol clung to the air, sharp and volatile.

Oxygen canisters clattered as they were swapped out, fresh ones locked into place with sharp clicks. These were preparations that carried an edge of desperation, a mix of hope and the quiet dread that they might not matter in the end.

Lee sat off to the side, reloading his shotgun. His fingers, once steady, now trembled as he slid each shell into the chamber. The shaking had grown worse over the past hour, and it wasn’t just from exhaustion. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small red morphine shell, its glossy surface catching the weak light. For a moment, he stared at it like it was both a curse and a promise, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white.

“Ready, Lee,” Y/N called, her voice cutting through the cabin’s muted chaos.

Lee’s head snapped up, his expression hardening as he quickly palmed the shell and shoved it back into his pocket. Rising to his feet, he slung the shotgun over his shoulder and muttered, “He’ll lead you over the first cliff, you know that, don’t you?”

Y/N paused, turning toward him with a calm but cutting look. “We’re just burning light here.”

“You give him the cells, give him the ship, and he’ll leave you,” Lee said, his voice low and acidic. “He’ll leave you all out there to die.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, studying him like a puzzle she had no interest in solving. “I don’t get it, Lee. What’s so goddamn valuable in your life that you’re worried about losing? Huh? Is there anything at all? Besides your next hit?”

He didn’t answer.

Her tone softened, though it lost none of its edge. “You’ve got no right to be this scared. Neither one of us does.”

The words lingered for a moment before the cabin lights flickered, sputtered, and died completely, plunging them into darkness.

Outside, a torch flared to life with a deafening roar, its fiery plume casting jagged shadows that danced across the surrounding landscape. Two misting umbrellas, their fabric already burned away, became impromptu flamethrowers, belching fireballs into the encroaching night. The sudden brightness illuminated the survivors in stark relief: Namjoon chained into the first harness of the drag-sled, his broad shoulders braced for the weight. Lee fumbled with the second harness, his trembling hands betraying his frustration.

Jungkook stood nearby, observing the scene with a faint smirk that barely touched his eyes. He leaned down to help Lee with the harness, the irony of the act not lost on either of them—the prisoner aiding his captor.

“Keep the light going,” Y/N called out, her voice sharp and steady over the crackle of flames. “That’s all we have to do to live through this. Just keep your light burning.”

Jungkook slipped a handlight over his neck, adjusting it so the beam cast a halo of illumination down his back. “I’ll be running about ten paces ahead,” he said to Y/N, his tone calm but commanding. “I want light on my back, not in my eyes. And check your cuts. These things know our blood now.”

At his words, Leo froze, her face draining of color. She clutched her torch tighter, as though it alone could keep the fear at bay.

Y/N stepped closer to Jungkook, her hesitation visible in the way her fingers fidgeted against her side. “Jungkook,” she began, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “I was thinking we should make some kind of deal. Just in case… you know, this actually works.”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Had it with deals.”

“But I just wanted to say—”

“Nobody’s gonna turn a murderer loose,” he said flatly, though there was a bitter edge to his tone. “I fucking knew better.”

The words hung in the air like a warning, or perhaps an admission.

Y/N searched his face, her unease deepening. If he didn’t expect to go free, what was he planning?

“It’s been a long time since anyone trusted me,” Jungkook added, almost as an afterthought. “That’s something right there.”

“Can we, though?” Y/N asked softly, her voice trembling despite herself. “Trust you?”

Jungkook hesitated, his expression unreadable. Then, with surprising candor, he replied, “Actually… that’s what I’ve been asking myself.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his shadow stretching long and dark in the firelight.

Y/N watched him go, her chest tightening with a terrible, nagging thought: What if this was all a mistake?

The drag-sled groaned as it creaked into motion, a makeshift lifeline against the oppressive night. Jungkook took point, his goggles off, his sharp, gleaming eyes scanning the darkness ahead. The light strapped to his back swung rhythmically with his movements, a beacon that guided the rest of the group.

Namjoon and Lee strained against their harnesses, pulling the sled like beasts of burden. Their breath came in labored puffs, visible in the cold night air. Fireball torches flared intermittently at the edges of their procession—one held by Leo, the other by Y/N—casting brief but vital light into the shadows.

At the rear, Peter stumbled along, wielding the cutter like a shield, sweeping it in wide arcs that betrayed his growing paranoia. They moved as a fragile train of light, a living thread that barely held the encroaching darkness at bay.

On the sled sat four power cells and eight bottles of booze, the last remnants of their hope lashed precariously with fraying cords. The sled creaked with every step, a sound that seemed deafening in the eerie silence of the night. Y/N walked with one hand on the strap of her torch, her eyes scanning the ground as her boots crunched over loose gravel and sand. Her breath hitched when she spotted the faint outline of sand-cat tracks—a reminder of their fleeting connection to anything natural or familiar in this alien wasteland.

But then, as they trudged forward, the tracks vanished, swallowed by the shifting ground. Y/N’s gaze lingered on the empty path ahead, a heavy unease curling in her chest.

“So, you saw it too?” Lee muttered, his voice low and dripping with suspicion.

Before she could answer, Y/N lifted her head, her voice cutting through the rasp of their breathers. “Jungkook,” she called sharply, her tone demanding answers.

The group instinctively slowed, clustering tighter together under the protective glow of their torches. The faint hum of distant movement made the shadows seem alive.

“Where are the sand-cat tracks?” Y/N pressed, stepping closer to Jungkook. Her words came fast and clipped. “Why aren’t we still following them?”

Jungkook didn’t break stride, his gait smooth and deliberate, as if he didn’t feel the tension rising around him. “Saw something I didn’t like,” he said casually, his voice betraying no urgency.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Such as?”

He shrugged, an almost flippant gesture that felt maddening in the circumstances. “Hard to tell sometimes… even for me. Looked like a bunch of those big boys chewing each other’s gonads off. Thought we’d swing wide. Okay by you?”

The group exchanged uneasy glances, Peter visibly paling. He turned his head, his eyes darting to the darkness behind them. “We went around what?” he asked, his voice cracking under the strain.

The sound of clicking filled the air—soft, distant, but unmistakable.

“Let’s move,” Y/N ordered, her voice cutting through their hesitation. She placed a steadying hand on Leo’s shoulder, urging her forward. “Just a detour. He’ll get us there.”

Peter hesitated, his nerves clearly fraying. “Can we switch?”

Y/N frowned. “Switch what?”

“My position,” Peter said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I think I twisted my ankle running backward like that, and I’m not sure I can—” He faltered under the weight of their collective glares. “Okay, that’s a lie. I just don’t want to be alone back there anymore. If you could just give me a few minutes up front—”

“She’s the pilot,” Lee snapped. “She should stay close to the cells.”

Peter threw up his hands, exasperated. “Oh, so I’m disposable now?”

Y/N didn’t have the patience for the argument. “I’ll switch!” she barked, her frustration boiling over. “Christ, just get this train moving!”

The group shuffled awkwardly as Y/N moved to the rear guard. Peter exhaled in relief, gripping his torch tighter as he joined the side guard. But the clicking never stopped. It seemed to echo in their ears, sharper and closer with every step, like the rhythm of a predator's heartbeat.

A sputtering sound drew their attention. Peter’s torch flickered weakly, its fireball dimming to a dangerous glow. He glanced down, panic flashing across his face. “Light, please, need light here!”

Namjoon and Lee swung their beams toward him, but their movements left gaps in the group’s circle of illumination. In that brief moment, Leo drifted too far from the light.

The clicking shifted—sharp, high-pitched, and urgent.

“Leo!” Namjoon lunged forward, tackling her to the ground just as a scythe-like claw slashed through the air, skimming the chains of his harness with a metallic screech.

Lee spun, his shotgun snapping up instinctively. He fired into the darkness, the muzzle flash cutting through the shadows like lightning. The sound echoed, deafening in the stillness, but the predator had already vanished.

“Am I cut?” Namjoon’s voice trembled as he helped Leo to her feet. His hands fumbled for his light, flipping the switch over and over, but it remained stubbornly dark.

Behind them, Peter stumbled into the darkness. A sharp cry escaped him as something slashed across his back, tearing through fabric and flesh with sickening precision.

“Oh, sweet Jesus…” Peter’s voice was panicked, raw with fear. Blood dripped down his side, staining the ground in dark streaks. “Will you GET ME SOME LIGHT OVER HERE!”

The group turned, their torches sweeping wildly, but it was too late. A blur of motion darted from the shadows, dragging Peter into the abyss.

Jungkook stood still, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He didn’t chase after Peter; there was no point. Instead, he watched as the predators tore into him with terrifying efficiency, their movements frenzied and primal. A female predator arrived late to the feast, a youngling clinging to her back. Unable to find space among the others, she whipped the youngling off and devoured it instead.

Y/N stared, horrified, as the predators began turning on each other, ripping into flesh and bone with no semblance of order.

“They’re fighting,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook didn’t respond. His jaguar-like eyes tracked two of the creatures that had broken away from the carnage. Their heads tilted in unison, their sharp, angular features glinting faintly in the coronal light.

They were looking at Leo.

“What do you see?” Y/N asked, though she already feared the answer.

“Hunger,” Jungkook murmured, his voice low and weighted. “I see sixty years of hunger.”

Jungkook didn’t reply. The wind was picking up, carrying with it the ominous sound of distant thunder. It wasn’t a storm. It was the howl of predators closing in.

“Move!” Y/N shouted, her voice slicing through the rising tension.

Leo gripped Peter’s torch tightly, the flame spitting weak fireballs that barely lit the path ahead. Each step she took was uneven, but determination kept her moving forward. The torch was her lifeline, its faint light the only thing keeping the encroaching darkness at bay.

Y/N followed at the rear, her cutter sputtering in her hand before dying completely. She cursed under her breath and hurled it to the ground in frustration, her hand darting toward Leo’s torch.

“Bottle count,” she demanded, her voice sharp, urgency snapping like a whip.

Leo hesitated, glancing down at the flickering reservoir in her hand. “Four fulls. One half.” She hesitated, her voice dipping into a faint, hopeful question. “Does that mean we’re halfway there?”

Y/N didn’t answer. None of them really knew. The canyon was their destination, but it felt more like an endless nightmare with every step. Their only guide was the faint gleam of light reflecting off Jungkook’s back, his unshakable stride the closest thing they had to a compass.

“Can we pick up the pace?” Y/N urged, her tone cutting through the oppressive silence.

Lee, trudging just ahead of her, muttered something under his breath, too low to hear. His voice rose just enough as he threw a glance over his shoulder. “If you think you can do better…” His words trailed off, his breath catching as he suddenly thrust an arm across Namjoon’s chest.

Namjoon stumbled to a halt. “What is it?” he hissed, his own fear bubbling just below the surface.

Lee pointed ahead with his flashlight, the beam catching faint sled tracks etched into the sand. But something about them felt off—wrong in a way none of them could articulate.

Y/N barely had time to process what she was seeing when a metallic click shattered the fragile quiet. She whirled around, her beam landing on Lee as he stood free of his harness chains, his shotgun pressed firmly to the back of Jungkook’s neck.

“We aren’t that stupid,” Lee growled, his voice low and venomous.

“Stay in the light!” Y/N yelled, her voice strained with panic. “Everybody! Stay in the fucking—”

“We crossed our own tracks,” Namjoon interrupted, his voice tight and brittle.

“Look at them!” Lee barked, gesturing wildly to the marks in the sand. His eyes darted, pupils blown wide with barely-contained hysteria. “He’s running us in circles! Look for yourself!”

“Jungkook!” Y/N snapped, her voice cracking like a whip. She turned her full attention to the man at the front, her pulse pounding in her ears. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook didn’t flinch, even with the barrel of Lee’s shotgun against his neck. His voice was calm, deliberate. “Listen,” he said simply.

The sound came first—low, sharp, and relentless. It was an ominous clicking, growing louder with each passing moment, like a chorus of a hundred Geiger counters riding the wind.

“Canyon ahead,” Jungkook said, his tone even as if he wasn’t standing at gunpoint. “I circled once to buy time to think.”

“Think about what?” Y/N demanded, stepping closer, her heart hammering in her chest.

Jungkook turned his gaze to Leo, his expression unreadable. “About the girl,” he said evenly.

Y/N froze. The chill in his tone was enough to stop her breath. “Girl?”

“She’s bleeding,” Jungkook said, his words deliberate, each one heavy with meaning. “And they’ve been tracking her since we left the ship.”

Lee scoffed, his shotgun pressing harder against Jungkook’s neck. “Bullshit. Leo’s not cut—”

“No,” Jungkook agreed, his calm gaze still on Leo. “She wasn’t.”

Y/N turned to Leo, the realization hitting her like a physical blow. “Leo,” she whispered, dread clawing at her throat. “Is this true?”

Leo’s face crumpled, tears brimming in her eyes. Her voice was small, trembling with guilt. “I didn’t want you to leave me there… back at the ship. I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Oh, God,” Y/N murmured, stepping closer. Her voice softened, cracking with a mix of anger and pity. “Honey, you should’ve told me. You should’ve—”

Lee groaned loudly, cutting her off. “This is such bullshit. You’re telling me we’ve been hauling her bleeding ass across this death trap and didn’t know it?”

“They go off blood,” Jungkook said, his tone cold and devoid of sympathy. “They’ve had a scent since we started.”

“We keep her close,” Namjoon said firmly, his hand brushing Leo’s shoulder in reassurance. “She’ll be safe with us. We—”

“There is no safe,” Jungkook interrupted, his voice a grim, unshakable fact. His eyes swept across the group, lingering briefly on Y/N.

The wind gusted, carrying with it the sound of distant canyon walls and the growing cacophony of clicking. The predators were closing in, their hunt relentless.

Y/N’s voice wavered, her desperation plain. “It’s not gonna work. We’ve gotta go back.”

Lee barked a harsh laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “Go back? Are you out of your damn mind?” His grip tightened on the shotgun as he sneered. “You dragged me out here, and now you want me to crawl back to that hellhole of a ship?”

“I was wrong!” Y/N snapped, her voice rising. “I made a bad call, okay? Now let’s just turn around before—”

“Before what?” Lee cut her off, stepping closer, his frustration spilling over into rage. “Before they find us? They’re already here, Captain. You think going back’s gonna fix that?”

“She’s the captain,” Namjoon said, his voice steady despite the rising tension. “We should listen to her.”

Lee turned on him, his shotgun shaking in his grip. “This captain nearly blew us to hell during the crash!”

“Lee!” Y/N shouted, her voice raw with anger and shame. “This isn’t helping!”

He ignored her, his gaze drilling into Leo. “She tried to kill us. All of us.”

Leo’s wide eyes flicked between them, her lip trembling. “What does he mean?”

“Enough!” Y/N roared, stepping between them. But Lee was already backing toward the sled, his light swaying wildly in the darkness.

“The light moves forward,” Lee said with mock finality, his voice dripping with disdain.

They moved through the boneyard like restless spirits, their progress deliberate and painstaking. Every step seemed to echo with the weight of desperation, their dwindling strength preserved for the canyon ahead. The barren expanse stretched endlessly in every direction, littered with twisted remnants of the past—bones, rusted scraps, and shadows that felt too alive.

At the back, Y/N lagged, her shoulders slumped and movements sluggish, like a rudder barely keeping a ship from capsizing. She kept her eyes on the ground, the grit and debris underfoot a welcome distraction from the oppressive silence. Up front, Yeonjun and Namjoon strained against the sled, their breaths coming in sharp, labored gasps as they dragged its cumbersome load. Each step forward felt like pulling against the earth itself.

Jungkook led the group with an eerie composure, his figure cutting through the haze with unnerving confidence. Beside him, Lee matched his pace, his shotgun resting casually over one shoulder. His presence was a heavy weight, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried an edge that sliced through the stillness.

“Ain’t all of us gonna make it,” he said, his tone almost conversational, as though delivering a fact rather than a death sentence.

Jungkook didn’t look at him. His response was as sharp as a blade. “Just realized that, huh?”

A clicking sound interrupted the tense quiet. It was distant at first, faint and fragmented, but it grew louder with each beat, quick and insistent like a predator honing in on its prey. The sound skittered through the night air, prickling along their spines and setting every nerve on edge.

Lee reacted first, spinning on his heel as the shotgun roared, the explosion of sound ripping through the silence. The muzzle flash flared bright, casting jagged shadows before plunging the group back into darkness. Whatever had made the sound darted away, leaving nothing but the acrid tang of gunpowder and the echo of the shot lingering in their ears.

The group halted, startled and shaken by the violence of the moment. Lee cocked the shotgun with a practiced motion, the click almost casual. His faint smirk, barely visible in the dim light, radiated smug satisfaction.

“Six of us left,” Lee said, his voice smooth, laced with an edge that made the words cut deeper. “If we get through that canyon and lose just one, I’d call that a miracle. A damn good one, too.”

“Not if I’m the one,” Jungkook replied, finally meeting Lee’s gaze. His tone was dry, dark humor threading through his words.

Lee tilted his head, the faint glint in his eyes turning sharp. “What if you’re one of five?”

Jungkook’s expression didn’t shift, but the subtle narrowing of his eyes spoke volumes. He said nothing, and in his silence, the weight of his consideration hung heavy.

Farther back, Leo squinted at the wavering light ahead. “What’re they doing up there?” she asked, her voice hushed but nervous.

Namjoon walked beside her, his movements tight with tension despite his attempt at a casual tone. “Talking about the canyon,” he said, though the uncertainty in his voice was obvious. “Figuring out how to get us through, probably.”

Behind them, Y/N’s gaze was locked on the silhouettes of Jungkook and Lee. Their movements were synchronized in a way that made her stomach churn—two wolves prowling side by side, a partnership forged in shared ruthlessness. The sight sent a chill creeping down her spine.

Ahead, Lee leaned toward Jungkook, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s nasty business,” he said. “But it’s no worse than what a battlefield doc does. They call it triage.”

Jungkook’s reply was as cold as the steel glint in his eyes. “Funny. They called it murder when I did it.”

Lee waved a dismissive hand, brushing the comment aside like a bothersome insect. “Call it what you want,” he said. “It’s something you can wrap your head around.”

Jungkook didn’t respond, his expression an unreadable mask, but the silence between them was an invitation for Lee to continue.

“We make a sacrifice play,” Lee explained, his voice turning disturbingly conversational. “One body at the canyon’s entrance. Call it chum in the water.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his dark amusement flickering faintly. “You’d drag it behind us with the sled cable,” he guessed, his tone dry and detached.

“Exactly,” Lee said, nodding. “Just enough to keep those land sharks off our scent. We don’t feed ‘em—we just distract ‘em.”

Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to the group, lingering on each face for a moment too long. When he spoke, his words were deliberate, carefully chosen. “So,” he said softly, “which one caught your eye?”

Lee muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed ahead, as though refusing to meet Jungkook’s eyes absolved him. “Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

From the rear, Y/N caught the exchange, the way Lee averted his gaze and the way Jungkook’s lingered. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot of unease. “Namjoon,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” Namjoon turned to her, his brows furrowed.

“Slow down,” Y/N hissed, her urgency cutting through his hesitation. “Don’t stop—just slow down. Put some distance between us and them.”

Namjoon hesitated, torn between instinct and her pleading tone. “We should stay together—”

“Just do it,” she said, desperation sharpening her words. “Please.”

Ahead, Jungkook’s voice broke the fragile silence. “What’s her name, anyway?”

Lee shot him a sharp look, defensive. “What do you care?”

Jungkook shrugged, his lips twitching into a humorless smile. “I don’t.”

“Then don’t name the turkey,” Lee muttered. “Keep it simple. You still got a shiv, right?”

Jungkook’s smirk widened, but his eyes remained devoid of humor. “You expect me to do it?”

Lee’s tone turned mocking, disdain dripping from every word. “What’s one more? You think this is the one that punches your ticket to hell?”

“Oh, you’re a masterpiece, Lee,” Jungkook replied, his voice calm but steeped in contempt. “They should hang you in a museum. Or just hang you.”

The group behind them slowed further, the gap between them growing wider. Y/N kept her focus on the pair ahead, dread pooling in her gut as she watched the silent exchange.

“All right,” Lee said after a moment, his tone sharpening. “You do the girl. I’ll keep the others off your back.”

Jungkook stopped abruptly, turning his head to study Lee with unsettling curiosity.

“Don’t tell me you’re growin’ a conscience,” Lee sneered, exasperation edging his voice.

Jungkook shook his head slowly, his expression unreadable. “Just thinking,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “What if we need a bigger piece of chum?”

Lee froze, his shoulders stiffening as the meaning behind the words settled over him. “Like who, Mr. Chrislam?” he snapped.

The night pressed in around them, the flickering torchlight offering little solace. From the rear, Y/N gripped Leo’s torch tightly, the flames sputtering like a dying star. The weight of their reality bore down on her, and as the group moved in uneasy silence, the dread gnawed at her relentlessly.

“Bottle count,” Y/N demanded, her voice sharp, taut as a drawn wire.

Leo hesitated, her eyes flicking nervously to the dwindling torchlight. “Four fulls, one half. Does that mean we’re halfway there? I hope?”

Y/N didn’t respond, her focus fixed on the light bobbing on Jungkook’s back, a ghostly beacon in the suffocating gloom. His silent, purposeful stride cut through the night like a blade. She tightened her grip on the torch, the heat a meager comfort against the growing dread. “Can we pick up the pace?”

Ahead, Lee trudged with the slow, unrelenting gait of a beast bearing too much weight. He muttered under his breath, “If you think you can do better...” The words faded as he suddenly threw an arm out, halting Namjoon. His gaze dropped to the ground. Tracks. Their own tracks, forming a circle.

The ominous click of a shotgun being cocked shattered the air like a gunshot itself. Y/N whirled just in time to see Lee, unchained and unhinged, pressing the barrel against the back of Jungkook’s neck. His grin was a predator’s snarl, all teeth and venom. “We aren’t completely stupid,” he growled.

“Stay in the light!” Y/N barked, her voice rising above the chaos. “Everybody! Stay in the fucking light!”

Namjoon’s voice trembled. “We’ve crossed our own tracks.”

Jungkook didn’t flinch, his calm defying the shotgun at his nape. “Listen,” he said, his voice like iron against the storm.

Then came the sound—a metallic hum riding the wind, sharp and insistent, like a hundred Geiger counters ticking in unison. It crawled under their skin, making their bones itch.

“Canyon ahead,” Jungkook explained, his tone unnervingly steady. “I circled once to buy time to think.”

“Think about what?” Y/N demanded, her voice like a whip crack.

“About how to kill us and still get those cells to the skiff,” Lee snarled, his anger boiling over. “We’re just the mules for this bastard!”

The accusation hit Y/N like a hammer blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her mind reeled, dread coiling tight in her stomach.

Lee moved before she could process it. The shotgun swung wide, and the world exploded into chaos.

“Bring the light!” Y/N shouted, her voice cutting through the panic. “Leave the sled! Move, now!”

The torchlight hit the ground, casting a harsh, flickering circle around them. Jungkook and Lee collided, a feral clash of bodies and brute force. They grappled like wild animals, their movements raw and savage, the shotgun skittering away into the darkness.

Jungkook moved with a predator’s grace, his shiv glinting faintly in the dying light as he sidestepped Lee’s first clumsy swing. His movements were measured, precise—each step deliberate, like a hunter toying with wounded prey.

“Gotta stay in the light, Lee,” Jungkook taunted, his voice low and cutting, sharp enough to bite through the heavy tension in the air. “That’s the only rule.”

Lee’s breath came in harsh, ragged bursts as he circled, his boots grinding against the brittle bones scattered beneath their feet. His eyes darted nervously between the dim circle of light and Jungkook, who seemed almost to dissolve into the encroaching darkness, reappearing only when he moved closer to strike.

With a growl of frustration, Lee lunged, swinging wildly. Jungkook ducked under the blow with a fluid ease that was almost nonchalant, his shiv flashing upward in a shallow slice across Lee’s forearm. Blood welled immediately, dripping onto the ground.

“Damn you,” Lee hissed, clutching his arm as he stumbled back.

“Not yet,” Jungkook replied, his voice cold, mocking. “You’ll know when it happens.”

Lee’s hand scrabbled desperately across the ground until it found purchase on a jagged rib-bone. He swung it upward with both hands, aiming for Jungkook’s head, but the blow never landed.

Jungkook sidestepped again, faster this time, and slammed his boot into Lee’s ribs. The force of the kick sent Lee staggering backward, his grip on the makeshift club faltering. The bone clattered to the ground as Jungkook closed the distance, his shiv darting forward like a striking serpent.

“Should’ve kept the chains on, Lee,” Jungkook murmured as the blade nicked Lee’s shoulder. His tone was conversational, dripping with disdain. “You had guts back then. Now look at you—Billy Bad-Ass, all bark and no bite.”

Lee lunged again, his movements growing more desperate with each passing second. He managed to shove Jungkook off-balance, sending them both sprawling into the circle of light.

Lee rolled first, scrambling toward the fallen shotgun. His fingers brushed the barrel just as Jungkook grabbed his ankle, yanking him backward with such force that he slammed face-first into the ground. Blood smeared across the dirt as Lee spat a curse, twisting to kick at Jungkook.

Jungkook didn’t flinch. He caught Lee’s boot mid-kick and twisted, eliciting a sharp crack from Lee’s ankle. Lee howled in pain, collapsing onto his back.

“You’re making this too easy,” Jungkook said, his voice dripping with disappointment as he rose to his feet. He stepped deliberately into the narrow cone of light cast by the discarded torch, his expression cold and unreadable.

Lee clawed at the ground, dragging himself toward the shotgun with trembling hands. He reached it, curling his fingers around the stock, and turned with a feral grin.

“Still Billy Bad-Ass,” Lee rasped, blood staining his teeth as he swung the weapon upward.

But then the light flickered, stuttering like a dying heartbeat. Shadows surged forward, thick and consuming, swallowing the edges of the circle.

Lee froze, his grin faltering. The clicking returned—closer now, sharp and insistent, a metallic cacophony that prickled along their spines.

Jungkook stepped back, his dark eyes glinting as he watched Lee’s panic mount.

“You feel that?” Jungkook asked, his voice soft, almost curious. “That’s what real fear feels like, Lee. No shotgun’s gonna save you now.”

The darkness swallowed the last remnants of light, leaving only the sound—the deafening CLICKING—and Lee’s ragged, terrified breaths.

The predator struck like a living shadow, silent and sudden. It lifted Lee effortlessly, its massive form outlined only by faint starlight. For a moment, it seemed almost curious, its blade-like appendage tracing along Lee’s body with a grotesque sort of delicacy.

Lee’s screams shattered the silence, high-pitched and guttural. The predator paused, as if savoring the sound, before driving its blade home with a sickening crunch.

Jungkook stood motionless, his silhouette blending into the shadows as the predator retreated, dragging Lee’s limp body into the void. The clicking faded, leaving only silence.

When Y/N, Namjoon, and Leo caught up, Jungkook stood motionless in the shadows, his figure outlined by the faint glow of their approaching torches. His goggles glinted like the eyes of a predator at rest, his posture deceptively calm.

“Where’s Mr. Lee?” Namjoon asked, his voice trembling, the question catching in his throat.

Jungkook tilted his head, his tone almost casual, though his words cut like glass. “Which half?”

Leo froze, her face crumpling under the weight of the answer. “Gonna lose everybody out here,” she whispered, her voice breaking like brittle glass. Her grip on the bottle she held faltered, and it slipped slightly before she caught it.

For a moment, something unspoken passed through Jungkook’s gaze—a fleeting softness, gone as quickly as it appeared. “He died fast,” he said quietly, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “And if we have any choice, that’s how we should all go out.”

He crouched to Leo’s level, his presence commanding but his tone almost tender. “Don’t cry for Lee,” Jungkook said firmly, his dark eyes boring into hers. “Don’t you dare. Tears out here are a waste.”

Above them, the canyon roared with noise—clicking, snapping, the grotesque wet sounds of rending flesh and the unmistakable crunch of bone. It was a symphony of death, the air heavy with dread and the acrid smell of decay.

The small group stood on the edge of the boneyard, their torches casting trembling halos of light into the encroaching darkness. The skeletal remains scattered across the ground seemed to mock their efforts, whispering the inevitability of their fate.

“How many do you see?” Y/N asked, forcing her voice to steady despite the knot of fear in her chest.

Jungkook’s head turned slightly, his goggles reflecting the faint light like the eyes of some nocturnal beast. “One. Maybe two.”

Y/N glanced toward Leo. “What do we have left?”

Leo’s hand trembled as she checked their remaining supply. “Three full bottles. But it’s almost time to refill.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Y/N cursed under her breath. “Doesn’t sound like enough to double back.”

Jungkook shrugged, a grim smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Doesn’t matter. Only one way now.”

“What way?” Namjoon asked cautiously.

Jungkook gestured toward the sled. “Turn it over, drag it like a shield. Keep the girl down low. Light everything we’ve got—and run through like dogs on fire.”

Namjoon frowned, his voice hesitant. “The sled... as a shield?”

“It’ll buy us seconds,” Jungkook replied, his voice steady and too calm.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “And the cells?”

Jungkook’s smirk widened slightly. “I’ll take those.”

Her gaze bore into him, sharp and unyielding. “We’re just here to carry your light, aren’t we? Just the torch-bearers.”

Jungkook met her stare without flinching. “Let’s drop back and boot up.”

They set to work among the skeletal ruins, their movements urgent but controlled. Jungkook lashed the cells together with strips of fabric, fashioning a crude harness as Namjoon stood close by, murmuring softly under his breath.

Jungkook glanced at him, his hands tightening the knots. “What’re you mumbling about?”

Namjoon hesitated, then answered, “Blessing you. Like the others.”

Jungkook huffed a humorless laugh. “Waste of breath.”

“It’s not,” Namjoon said softly, his voice unwavering. “Even if you don’t believe in God, that doesn’t mean He won’t—”

Jungkook cut him off, his voice low and sharp. “Oh, I believe in God. You don’t spend half your life locked up with a horse-bit in your mouth and not believe. You don’t start out in a liquor store trash bin with an umbilical cord wrapped around your neck and not believe.” His gaze turned icy, his tone colder still. “I believe in Him. And I hate the fucker.”

Namjoon swallowed hard but said nothing.

Jungkook adjusted the harness with practiced efficiency, his voice softening slightly. “Save your blessings for the girl. She’ll need a spare.”

When they reached the start of the gauntlet, their torches burned brighter than ever, every flame stoked to its limit. Y/N and Namjoon strapped themselves to the overturned sled, their breathers hissing in sync. Leo crawled beneath the sled, curling into its shadow, her trembling hands clutching the last remaining bottles. Yeonjun clung to his handlight, his knuckles white with strain.

Jungkook stood apart, his goggles in place, his expression unreadable as he shouldered the harnessed cells. “As fast as you can,” he said to Y/N, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“You sure you can—” she started, but he cut her off with a sharp glare.

“As fast as you can,” he repeated, his voice final.

The group surged forward.

The sled scraped and jolted as Y/N and Namjoon pulled with everything they had, their muscles straining under the weight. Leo kept low, her breaths audible and panicked, while Yeonjun stumbled alongside, his light bobbing erratically.

Behind them, Jungkook moved like a machine, the harness digging into his shoulders as he dragged the cells through the boneyard. The torches painted wild, flickering patterns on the canyon walls, creating a fragile wall of light that barely held back the encroaching shadows.

Above, predators launched from the canyon rim, their shadows stretching like monstrous wings against the jagged rock faces. Their cries, sharp and guttural, echoed through the narrow pass, amplifying the chaos. The first wave of hatchlings swarmed toward the torchlight, their sleek, scaled bodies darting like arrows. At the last second, they veered away, repelled by the searing flames.

“Don’t look!” Jungkook’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding over the cacophony.

Thin streaks of glowing blue liquid splattered down from above, hissing as they hit the hot, rocky ground. Y/N instinctively glanced upward, a decision she regretted instantly. The sky above was alive with writhing forms—predators slashing and tearing at one another in a frenzy of hunger and rage. Wings and limbs tangled, snapping bones and spilling glowing blood as they collided mid-air. The sheer size and ferocity of the beasts made her breath catch in her throat.

“Do not look up!” Jungkook barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Eyes on the ground! Keep going, keep going, keep going!”

Y/N forced her gaze downward, her heart hammering as she quickened her pace. The ground was slick with the iridescent, metallic-smelling blood of the creatures, and the sickening thuds of entrails raining from above filled the air. It was like running through a storm of gore.

Namjoon’s voice rose above the chaos, calm and unwavering despite the madness. “So dark the clouds around my way, I cannot see. But through the darkness, I believe God leadeth me...” His words, steady and rhythmic, cut through the noise like a fragile lifeline.

The rain of bodies intensified. Broken predators slammed into the ground with bone-shaking force, their corpses twisting grotesquely as they landed. One crashed dangerously close to Yeonjun, its razor-edged blade slicing across his leg. He staggered, biting down a cry of pain, and kept moving, his face pale but determined.

Ahead, the canyon loomed like the gaping maw of some ancient beast, its jagged walls narrowing to form a sinister throat. Every sound seemed magnified, the clicking, snapping, and howling bouncing off the rock, trapping them in a symphony of terror.

Y/N’s torchlight revealed the choke-point first: a grotesque barricade of predator corpses piled high across the path, steaming and glistening with fresh blood. The tangled mass of bodies looked like the aftermath of a brutal battle, their twisted forms creating a barrier that blocked the way forward. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat.

“Jungkook?” she called, her voice edged with panic. “JUNGKOOK?”

Jungkook stopped just ahead of the group, his silhouette stark against the flickering torchlight. He turned his head slightly, his tone flat and grim. “It’s a fucking staircase,” he said, his voice cold. “Go over it. GO OVER IT!”

Leo was the first to move, her torch quivering in her hands as she crouched down, using the corpses as handholds to climb. The stench of death clung to her, the heat rising from the pile making her gag. Her foot slipped on the slick surface of a predator’s shredded wing, and she choked back a cry.

Then one of the “dead” predators moved.

Its head snapped toward her, razor-sharp teeth gnashing as it lunged. Leo screamed, jerking back, and lost her footing completely. She tumbled down the mound of bodies, landing hard at the base, exposed in the flickering light.

“Leo!” Y/N shouted, already scrambling down after her.

Leo barely had time to roll to her side before a massive predator slammed onto the sled-shield she had been crawling beneath. Bone-blades pierced through the metal with a deafening screech, missing her by mere inches. The creature howled, thrashing violently as it tried to free itself from the shield. Its fury was palpable, steam rising from its heaving body as the torchlight illuminated its jagged, serrated form.

Jungkook was a blur of movement.

He stepped to the edge of the light, his posture eerily calm, his muscles coiled like a predator himself. The creature turned to face him, its clicking intensifying into a furious crescendo. It lunged, its scythe-like blades slicing through the air with deadly precision.

Jungkook dodged, his movements impossibly fast and fluid. He slid under the predator’s chest, his shiv flashing as it carved deep into its vulnerable underbelly. Blue blood sprayed, hissing as it hit the ground.

The predator screamed, a sound so piercing it made Y/N’s ears ring. It reared back, swiping wildly, but Jungkook was relentless. He moved like a shadow, every step calculated, every strike precise. The creature lunged again, its massive jaws snapping shut where Jungkook had been just a second before.

“Stay down, Leo!” Y/N yelled, dragging the girl back toward the shield as the battle raged.

Jungkook ducked under another swipe, his shiv slicing through the creature’s tendon. It stumbled, one of its legs collapsing beneath it. He didn’t hesitate. In a single fluid motion, he vaulted onto its back, driving his blade into the base of its skull. The predator convulsed violently, its death throes shaking the ground.

Jungkook leapt clear just as the creature collapsed, its massive form slamming into the pile of corpses with a sickening crunch.

For a moment, there was silence, save for the labored breathing of the group. Jungkook turned, his face streaked with blue blood, his eyes unreadable behind his goggles.

“Get up,” he said to Leo, his voice steady but firm. “We’re not stopping here.”

He gestured toward the pile. “Over it. Now.”

Y/N helped Leo to her feet, her own legs trembling as she nodded. They climbed the barricade, the others following close behind. The sound of clicking returned, growing louder, the darkness behind them shifting as more predators closed in.

Jungkook glanced back once, his expression grim. “Move faster. Or you’ll find out how fast I can’t save you.”

A piercing, shrieking click cut through the air, reverberating off the canyon walls. Jungkook spun instinctively, his movements sharp and precise. Above them, a monstrous shape unfurled, its hammer-shaped head swaying like a deadly pendulum. The creature’s pale, segmented body shimmered grotesquely in the faint light, its sinewy muscles rippling as it prepared to strike.

Hot, rancid breath washed over them, thick and suffocating. The predator loomed closer, every inch of it screaming lethal intent. Y/N felt her limbs lock in place, her instincts fighting against the primal urge to run.

Jungkook, however, was already moving. His hand darted to his belt, and with a metallic whisper, he unsheathed his shiv. The blade caught the faint flicker of torchlight, gleaming like a sliver of salvation.

The beast lunged, its hammerhead smashing down toward Jungkook with a force that cracked the earth beneath it. But Jungkook had already sidestepped, the ground where he’d stood exploding into shards of stone and dust.

“Back up!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos like a whip.

Y/N and Namjoon obeyed immediately, stumbling backward as they dragged Leo and the sled-shield with them. The predator rose again, its massive frame casting long, twisting shadows. It released a guttural howl, its hammerhead shifting slightly to reveal serrated mandibles that snapped together with terrifying precision.

Jungkook didn’t falter. His expression remained cold and unyielding, his eyes locked on the beast. He moved with the calculated grace of a predator himself, circling the creature, his shiv gripped tightly in his hand.

The creature lunged a second time, faster and more deliberate. Its head whipped through the air with a sound like a breaking whip, aiming to crush him. But Jungkook dropped low, sliding forward beneath its torso with lethal precision.

In a single, fluid motion, he drove his blade upward. The shiv’s edge found the soft, pale flesh of the beast’s underbelly, slicing through with sickening ease. Blue, viscous blood sprayed out in a violent arc, steaming as it hit the cold rocks.

The creature let out a bone-rattling shriek, a sound so loud and alien it felt like it might tear the sky apart. Its segmented legs spasmed wildly, gouging the ground as it staggered. Blue blood poured from the gash Jungkook had made, its innards spilling out in a grotesque heap of steaming flesh.

Jungkook rolled clear as the beast crumpled, its body convulsing once before collapsing in a heap. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning gore.

He rose to his feet, his movements steady and controlled. Without a second thought, he wiped the blade clean on the predator’s hide, blue streaks staining his fingers. His breathing was calm, almost unnervingly so, as if slaying such a monstrous foe was routine.

Turning back to the group, Jungkook’s face was unreadable beneath the streaks of blue ichor smeared across his skin. His eyes, however, burned with a glint of something dangerous and unyielding.

Y/N and Namjoon stared at him, frozen in shock, their breaths ragged and shallow. Even Leo, half-hidden beneath the sled, peeked out with wide, horrified eyes.

“Didn’t know who he was fuckin’ with,” Jungkook muttered, his tone flat but laced with a quiet venom.

There was no time to linger. The distant clicking and howling of more predators echoed from deeper in the canyon, the sound growing louder. Jungkook turned away from the beast’s steaming corpse, his focus already shifting to the next threat.

Namjoon’s voice broke the silence, panicked and raw. “Yeonjun! Where’s Yeonjun?”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop moving. He gestured sharply toward the sled. “Get the girl back under. Keep going,” he ordered.

“YEONJUN!” Namjoon shouted again, his voice cracking with desperation.

Jungkook’s tone turned lethal, a growl that cut through the canyon air. “KEEP GOING OR I WILL!”

Before they could argue, Yeonjun reappeared—but not in the way they’d hoped. He was thrown into the flickering light by some unseen force, his body a broken, jerking silhouette. Blood streamed from jagged wounds, his limbs twitching feebly as he reached out, his eyes wide with terror.

“Yeonjun!” Namjoon surged forward, but before he could reach him, the boy was yanked back into the darkness by a pair of glistening mandibles. His scream was cut short, swallowed by the clicking and howling of the predators.

Jungkook didn’t look back. “Move!” he barked. “Now!”

The group stumbled forward, dragging the sled-shield and their trembling bodies into the widening canyon. The worst of the sounds began to fall behind them, the predators momentarily distracted by their own frenzied feeding. Y/N dared to hope—just for a second—that they might survive.

But then the torches sputtered.

Leo froze beneath the sled, staring at the shield above her as faint pattering sounds hit the metal. At first, it was soft, almost like mist. Then it grew heavier, louder.

“What’s that?” she whispered.

Y/N extended her hand past the edge of the sled, catching the liquid on her palm. Her stomach churned as she realized it wasn’t blood.

“Rain,” Namjoon murmured, his voice hollow.

The downpour came fast and relentless, extinguishing one torch after another. The flames hissed and sputtered, fighting for survival before dying entirely. They were plunged into near-total darkness, the air heavy with the metallic scent of wet rock and desperation.

Jungkook ripped off his goggles, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. He stared up at the black void above, his lips curling into a snarl. “So where the hell’s God now, huh?” he growled, his voice bitter and venomous. “I’ll tell you where! He’s up there, PISSING ON ME!”

“Jungkook!” Y/N’s voice was sharp, cutting through his anger. “How close?”

He squinted into the darkness, his face giving nothing away.

“Tell me the settlement is right there!” she pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation. “JUNGKOOK, PLEASE!”

His answer gutted her. “We can’t make it.”

The sound behind them swelled, the predators closing in. Jungkook’s gaze darted to the canyon wall, spotting a narrow fissure in the rock. He pointed sharply. “Here. Hide here.”

They scrambled toward the crevice, Leo crawling beneath the sled as Y/N and Namjoon wedged themselves into the narrow space. The last torch flickered and died, leaving them in utter darkness.

Y/N hesitated, watching as Jungkook moved to lift the sled-shield, sliding it over the opening like a makeshift barrier.

“Why’s he still out there?” Leo whispered, her voice trembling.

Y/N didn’t answer. She didn’t know. Was he protecting them? Or leaving them to fend for themselves?

Jungkook’s silhouette lingered outside for a moment, his shiv gleaming faintly as he faced the growing darkness. The sounds of clicking and snapping grew louder, closing in. He rolled his shoulders, adjusting his grip on the blade.

“I’ll buy you time,” he said quietly, more to himself than to them. “Stay hidden. Don’t move.”

Then he stepped away from the crevice, swallowed by the shadows.

Outside, the storm raged with relentless fury, rain pouring down in sheets that turned the rocky ground into a slick, treacherous incline. Jungkook planted his boots firmly in the mud, every step a battle as he hauled the cells up the slope. The harness straps bit into his shoulders, the weight of the cells dragging him backward with every movement. His muscles burned, veins bulging as he gritted his teeth against the strain.

The wind howled, carrying with it the faint, distant echoes of predators’ clicks and howls, a haunting reminder that the danger was far from over. But Jungkook didn’t waver. He bent his body into the climb, his breath coming in harsh bursts, the sound swallowed by the cacophony of the storm.

Finally, his boots found purchase on the uneven ground near the top of the rise. With one last, herculean effort, he heaved the cells over the edge, collapsing to his knees in the mud for a fleeting moment. Rain lashed at his face, plastering his hair to his forehead and running in rivulets down his sharp features. He ignored it, his chest heaving as he forced himself upright.

And then he saw it.

The settlement.

Faintly illuminated by the glow of the skiff’s engines, it lay in the distance, a flickering beacon of hope against the oppressive darkness. Its lights shimmered through the rain, blurred by the sheets of water cascading from the heavens, but it was there. Real. A sanctuary within reach.

Jungkook’s gaze lingered on the sight, his jaw tightening. Relief tried to claw its way into his chest, but he shoved it down. There was no room for celebration, not yet. Not until the others were here. Not until they were all safe.

He gripped the harness straps again, his fingers slipping briefly on the rain-soaked leather. A grim determination settled over him, his expression hardening like stone. He adjusted the weight of the cells, bending slightly to center it, and began moving again.

Each step was deliberate, methodical, as he dragged the cells through the thickening mud. The rain intensified, hammering down with almost punishing force, but he didn’t falter. His boots slipped occasionally, sending jolts through his body as he corrected his balance, but he kept his focus forward, his eyes locked on the faint glow ahead.

The storm seemed to rise against him, as if the world itself were trying to keep him from reaching that distant light. Lightning split the sky, illuminating the canyon walls behind him in stark flashes, revealing shapes that moved too fast to be human. He didn’t look back.

The weight of the cells bore down on him, the straps digging deeper into his shoulders, his back screaming in protest. But he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

With a final push, he crested the incline, dragging the cells fully onto the flat ground beyond. For a moment, he paused, his silhouette stark against the storm-lit backdrop. Rain plastered his shirt to his frame, water dripping from his lashes as he gazed out at the settlement.

Without looking back, he adjusted the straps once more.

The crevice was cold and damp, the muffled sounds of the storm outside a constant reminder of the chaos just beyond their fragile sanctuary. Leo huddled closer to Y/N, her small frame trembling as much from fear as from the chill. Her voice was barely above a whisper, strained and fragile, as though speaking louder might shatter the fragile silence. “He’s not coming back, is he?”

Y/N’s heart twisted at the question. She tightened her grip on the girl, pulling her closer, though her own thoughts churned with doubt and dread. Her gaze shifted to Namjoon, who sat hunched against the wall, his face shadowed and unreadable. “Did Jungkook say anything to you?” she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Namjoon’s head lifted slightly, and he shook it, his expression neutral but weighted with unspoken thoughts. “No,” he said simply, his tone calm but offering no comfort.

Y/N opened her mouth to press further, but something stopped her. She squinted at Namjoon, her brow furrowing. It wasn’t his face—no, it was the fact that she could see it. The dim, suffocating darkness that had surrounded them since they entered the crevice was no longer absolute. A faint light illuminated the space, soft and bluish, like a distant star.

“There’s light in here,” she said, her voice tinged with confusion and a flicker of hope.

Namjoon noticed it too. He pushed himself up, his eyes scanning the rocky walls of the crevice. Slowly, he climbed higher, his hands brushing along the slick surface until they found the source. “It’s here,” he murmured, plucking at something clinging to the stone.

He descended carefully, holding his hand out to Y/N and Leo. In his palm were faintly glowing shapes, tiny and delicate, their soft blue-white light pulsing faintly like the beat of a distant heart.

“Larva,” Namjoon said, his voice hushed as though he feared disturbing the fragile creatures.

Leo leaned in closer, her wide eyes reflecting the glow. “Glow worms,” she whispered, awe mingling with exhaustion.

Y/N stared at the glimmering larvae, her mind snapping into motion like a gear clicking into place. The light was faint, but it was light. It had potential. “How many bottles do we have?” she asked suddenly, her voice taking on an urgent edge. “Empty ones?”

Namjoon frowned, the question catching him off guard. “Maybe two, three?” he guessed, glancing toward the sled.

“Check,” Y/N ordered, her voice brisk now. She shifted Leo off her lap gently but firmly, her mind already piecing together a plan.

Namjoon nodded, crawling over to the sled where the group’s supplies had been hastily stowed. He rummaged through the bags, pulling out three empty glass bottles, their surfaces slick with condensation.

Y/N examined the larvae still glowing in Namjoon’s palm, then the faint traces on the wall above them. They were scattered, but there were enough to work with. Carefully, she reached out to one of the glowing clusters on the wall. It stuck to her fingers, its glow intensifying slightly as she transferred it into an empty bottle.

“We can use this,” she said, her mind racing. “If we can gather enough, we can make light. Not like the torches, but enough to see—enough to move.”

“But won’t the predators see it too?” Leo asked hesitantly, her fear still overriding her budding hope.

Y/N nodded. “That’s the goal. Light keeps those fuckers away.”

Namjoon passed her another bottle, and Y/N worked quickly, carefully gathering more of the bioluminescent larvae from the walls. Leo watched her hands move, her awe slowly returning. “They’re...beautiful,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Namjoon stood back, watching the bottles begin to glow brighter as they filled with the pulsing larvae. His expression softened for the first time since they’d entered the crevice. “It’s something,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

“It’s a start,” Y/N corrected, holding up the glowing bottle like a fragile beacon. “Now we just have to survive long enough for it to matter.”

The rain hammered down relentlessly, turning the settlement into a glistening, muddy expanse. Every surface gleamed under the rhythmic assault, and the air buzzed with the sharp tang of ozone and wet metal. Jungkook stood in the skiff’s cockpit, his face illuminated by the dim glow of its dormant control panel. He wiped his soaked brow with the back of his hand, his fingers trembling—not from fear, but from the bone-deep exhaustion that clawed at him.

The skiff was old. Its metal frame bore the scars of countless missions: scratches, scorch marks, and hastily patched-over dents. Inside, wires dangled from an open panel beneath the dashboard, sparking faintly as rainwater dripped onto them. Jungkook muttered a curse under his breath, dropping to one knee to get to work.

He yanked his toolkit from a side compartment, flipping it open with a snap. Tools clattered inside—a tangled mess of spanners, screwdrivers, and salvaged parts that looked as battered as the skiff itself. Grabbing a pair of pliers and a wire cutter, Jungkook leaned into the open panel, his eyes narrowing as he examined the mess of frayed wires and corroded circuits.

The primary ignition system was fried. The storm’s earlier surge must’ve shorted it out. Jungkook’s jaw tightened as he traced the damage, his fingers working methodically to strip away the melted insulation and reveal the intact copper beneath.

“Come on,” he growled, his voice low, almost a prayer to the skiff’s battered machinery. “You’ve been through worse. Don’t die on me now.”

He cut and reconnected wires, twisting them tightly together before sealing the joins with a strip of adhesive tape he’d salvaged from the settlement’s dwindling supplies. Sparks flew as he tested the connection, but the hum of power returning to the system sent a flicker of hope through him.

Jungkook shoved himself out from under the dashboard and slammed the panel closed. Standing, he reached for the control lever, his knuckles white as he pulled it. The skiff groaned in protest, the engines sputtering weakly before falling silent again.

“Damn it!” he spat, slamming his fist against the console.

The rain continued its relentless assault, pooling around his boots as he climbed out of the cockpit. He scrambled onto the rear deck, where the exposed engine compartment loomed like the heart of a dying beast. Peeling back the protective cover, Jungkook grimaced at the sight of water pooling in the housing.

Grabbing a hand pump, he worked quickly to siphon the rainwater out, his muscles burning with the effort. His breath came in short bursts, misting in the cold air as he worked, his focus unwavering.

Once the water was cleared, Jungkook leaned over the engine, inspecting the fuel cells he’d hauled up from the canyon earlier. One of them was cracked, the faint smell of leaking fuel mixing with the rain-soaked air. He switched it out with a spare, his hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

“Almost there,” he muttered to himself, tightening the last connection.

Back in the cockpit, Jungkook wiped his hands on his damp pants and gripped the controls. He hit the ignition switch again, his heart pounding. The skiff sputtered, choked, and then roared to life, its twin engines glowing with a fierce, amber light that cut through the storm. The hum deepened, steadying into a powerful thrum that reverberated through the ground beneath him.

Outside, the light from the engines spilled across the settlement, illuminating the rain-soaked landscape with an otherworldly glow. The mud glistened like molten metal, and the structures of the settlement cast jagged shadows that danced in the downpour.

Jungkook allowed himself a brief smile, his chest rising and falling with relief. He adjusted the controls, testing the throttle as the skiff responded, its frame vibrating beneath him like a creature eager to move.

But his work wasn’t finished. He checked the fuel levels, ensuring the cells were stable. He grabbed a handful of rope and tied down the loose cargo, his mind running through every possible failure point. The skiff might have been operational now, but it was far from invincible.

As the engines settled into a steady hum, Jungkook climbed back into the cockpit and stared out at the stormy horizon. The glow of the engines reflected in his eyes, fierce and determined.

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, her breaths ragged as she scrambled out of the crevice. The faint glow of the worms clinging to the rocks illuminated her path, their eerie light casting trembling shadows on the canyon walls. Behind her, Leo whispered a frantic protest, but Y/N didn’t stop to listen. She couldn’t.

Her boots slipped on the rain-slicked rock as she clambered up the incline, the roar of the storm masking the sound of her hurried movements. Above, the dark sky churned with ominous clouds, lightning splitting the heavens in jagged streaks. Her gaze locked on the faint glimmer in the distance—the settlement.

It stood like a lone beacon in the night, faintly illuminated by the glow of the skiff’s engines. The sight filled her with equal parts relief and fury. Jungkook was there, preparing to leave, and he was about to do it without them.

Her mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of desperation and anger. How could he? After everything they’d been through together, after the sacrifices and bloodshed, how could he even think about abandoning them?

Her lungs burned, her legs screaming in protest as she pushed herself harder. The mud sucked at her boots, threatening to slow her, but she fought against it. She slipped once, landing hard on her hands and knees, but the pain barely registered. She was back on her feet in an instant, her resolve unshaken.

Ahead, the settlement’s crude perimeter loomed closer. The skeletal remains of makeshift barricades stood silhouetted against the glow of the skiff. She could hear the faint hum of its engines now, the sound growing louder with each step.

Leo and Namjoon huddled close around the faint glow of their makeshift light—a repurposed bottle filled with wriggling glow-worms. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had, their only barrier against the consuming darkness. The dim bioluminescence painted the walls of the narrow crevice in ghostly blue light, casting long, trembling shadows that danced with each movement of the worms.

Namjoon’s hands trembled as he clutched the bottle, the light shifting faintly with his every shudder. His knuckles were white, his grip desperate, as though he believed the fragile container of light was the only thing keeping them tethered to hope. Leo sat pressed against his side, her knees drawn up to her chest, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

The air was stifling, heavy with the smell of damp earth and the acrid tang of fear. Every sound seemed amplified in the tight space—the drip of water from the rocks above, the ragged breaths of their small group, and, worst of all, the relentless scrabbling from outside.

The claws had started again, raking against the shield that Jungkook had shoved over the crevice to keep them hidden. The metal groaned under the strain, the scraping sound grating against their nerves like nails on glass.

Namjoon leaned forward, his jaw clenched as he squinted through a small hole in the makeshift barrier. His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling quickly, the bottle trembling in his grasp.

“What do you see?” Leo whispered, her voice barely audible.

Namjoon didn’t answer right away. His eyes strained to make out shapes beyond the faint glow, but the storm outside was relentless, rain pounding against the shield, masking the shapes of their predators.

And then it happened.

A blade shot through the hole without warning, slicing through the air where Namjoon’s face had been a split second earlier. The metallic edge glinted in the faint light, a deadly flash of silver that disappeared as quickly as it came.

Namjoon yelped, his body jerking back violently. He clutched the bottle of glow-worms to his chest like a talisman, the light within casting wild, chaotic shadows on the walls as it shook in his hands.

“Namjoon!” Leo gasped, her hands darting out to steady him. Her voice quavered, teetering on the edge of panic.

“I’m fine,” Namjoon panted, though his voice betrayed his terror. He glanced at the barrier, his eyes wide and unblinking, the image of the blade burned into his mind. The light from the glow-worms reflected in his gaze, making him look almost as ghostly as the creatures they were hiding from.

The scratching sounds didn’t stop. If anything, they grew louder, more insistent, as if the predators were testing the limits of the shield. The scraping of claws against metal was interspersed with sharp clicking noises—communication, perhaps, or the prelude to an attack.

Namjoon shifted closer to Leo, his free hand gripping her arm tightly. The pressure of his fingers was almost painful, but she didn’t pull away. She welcomed the contact, grounding herself in the reality of his presence.

“We can’t just sit here,” Leo whispered, her voice shaking.

“We don’t have a choice,” Namjoon replied, his voice hoarse. He held the glow-worms higher, angling the faint light toward the hole. The bioluminescence seemed to hold the creatures at bay for now, the clicking and scraping faltering whenever the glow intensified.

“They’re scared of the light,” Leo murmured, her voice filled with a fragile hope.

“Not scared enough,” Namjoon muttered grimly. He glanced down at the bottle in his hands, watching the tiny worms squirm inside. It was a fragile thing, their makeshift light, and he didn’t know how long it would last.

A sudden thud against the shield made both of them jump, their heads snapping toward the source of the sound. The metal barrier bowed inward slightly, the force behind it unmistakable.

“They’re getting bolder,” Leo said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Namjoon swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the glow-worms. “We have to hold out,” he said, his tone wavering but determined. “Jungkook will come back. He has to.”

But even as he said the words, doubt crept into his voice. They had no way of knowing if Jungkook was still alive, if he’d managed to make it to the settlement—or if he’d abandoned them entirely.

Leo glanced at Namjoon, her fear mirrored in his face. They both knew the truth: they were running out of time.

The rain drummed incessantly on the skiff’s hull as Jungkook sat in the cockpit, his fingers dancing over the controls. The interior lights dimmed to a soft glow while the external beams pierced the downpour, illuminating the barren, desolate landscape. He exhaled sharply, leaning back in the chair, his eyes scanning the monitors for any threats. Then something outside caught his attention—a figure standing defiantly in the headbeams.

Y/N.

Rain streamed down her face, her hair plastered against her skin, but her expression burned with intensity. She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t stepping aside. If anything, she seemed ready to throw herself under the skiff to stop it from taking off. Her silhouette, stark against the rain and light, was both fragile and unyielding. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, neither moved.

Jungkook sighed heavily and flipped a switch. The hatch hissed open, the sound barely audible over the pounding rain. He didn’t say a word as Y/N climbed aboard, water dripping from her clothes in rivulets that pooled on the floor. She paused midway down the gangway, the faint interior glow casting harsh shadows on her face. Despite her soaked appearance, the light seemed to carve her features sharper, her resolve unshakable.

“You’re not leaving,” she said, her voice firm, each word deliberate. “Not until we go back for the others.”

Jungkook leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unbothered. He let out a low, humorless laugh, the sound more dismissive than amused.

“I promised them,” Y/N pressed, taking a step closer. “I said we’d go back with more light. That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

“You’ve mistaken me for someone who gives a shit,” Jungkook replied, his tone cold, his gaze steady.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “What’s the matter, Jungkook? Afraid?”

At that, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re confusing me with Lee,” he said, his voice calm and measured. “Fear was his monkey. Me? I deal in life and death. All that stuff in between? Shades of gray my eyes don’t see.”

Y/N’s anger flared. “I trusted you. I thought maybe—just maybe—some part of you wanted to be human again.”

Jungkook pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them in a deliberate, slow stride. “Truthfully?” he said with a faint shrug. “I wouldn’t even know how.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her determination faltering for just a moment. “Then wait for me,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “I’ll go back myself. Just give me the light.”

Jungkook smirked and tossed her a light. It clattered to the floor at her feet, broken and useless. Y/N glared at him, her fists clenching at her sides. “You bastard,” she hissed. “Just come with me.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You come with me.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. She stared at him, incredulous.

“They’re already dead,” he said bluntly, his eyes scanning her face for a reaction. “Get on board.”

“You’re messing with me,” she said, her voice cracking. “I know you are.”

“Of course I am,” Jungkook admitted with infuriating calm. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t leave you here. If you believe anything about me, believe that.”

Y/N’s voice rose, trembling with desperation. “I promised them. I have to go. I have to…”

Jungkook reached out, his movements deliberate and slow. “Step aboard, Y/N.”

“I can’t…” Her voice wavered, her confidence slipping.

“Here,” he said, extending his hand. “Make it easy on yourself.”

“Don’t do this to me,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Just give me your hand.”

“They could still be…” Her voice was barely audible now, choked with emotion.

“No one’s going to blame you,” he said softly, his tone almost kind. “Take my hand and save yourself.”

Y/N stared at his hand, her thoughts a whirlwind of guilt and defiance. Then, in a burst of motion, she grabbed it—but instead of stepping aboard, she yanked him down the gangway. They tumbled into the mud, the rain soaking them both instantly. Jungkook tried to rise, but Y/N was faster. She planted a knee on his neck, pinning him down with surprising strength.

“I will not give up on them!” she snarled, her voice raw with emotion. “I will not leave anyone on this rock with those things!”

Jungkook moved in a blur, rolling them over until he was on top, pinning her arms with his hands. The sharp tip of his shiv pressed lightly against her neck, but his face wasn’t angry. His expression was calm, curious even. His voice, when he spoke, was soft. “You’d die for them?”

“I would try for them,” Y/N spat back, her eyes blazing up at him.

“You barely know them,” he countered, his tone almost detached.

“I’m human,” she replied, her voice trembling but fierce. “I know you think that’s a weakness, but I feel fear—mine and theirs. Goddammit, Jungkook, yes. I would die for them.”

For a long moment, Jungkook didn’t move. Rain dripped from his hair onto her face, mingling with her tears. Finally, he sighed and eased back, the shiv disappearing into its sheath.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Let’s fucking move before they get eaten and we’ve wasted our time.”

The scrabbling at the shield grew louder, each scratch like a countdown to disaster. Namjoon tensed, his fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of his blade. His breath came fast and shallow as he fixed his eyes on the vibrating metal, ready to strike at whatever horror broke through.

Suddenly, the shield shifted. It heaved to one side, and for a split second, Namjoon thought the worst. Then, with a grunt of effort, Y/N appeared, her arms trembling as she dragged the barrier aside. Her soaked face was flushed with determination, streaked with mud and rain.

Behind her, looming like a shadow, was Jungkook. His dark eyes scanned the interior with an intensity that sent a chill through the air. “You came for us,” Leo whispered, her voice shaky, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook muttered, brushing past her without a second glance. “We’re all fucking amazed. Anyone not ready for this?”

They wasted no time. Y/N and Namjoon moved to gather the last of their makeshift lights—bottles filled with dimly glowing worms. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had. Outside, the rain poured harder, drenching them as they emerged from the crevice. The ground had turned to slick mud, making every step treacherous.

“Tighter,” Jungkook barked, his voice cutting through the downpour. “Stay tight and stay quiet.”

They moved in a huddled cluster, their breaths hitching with every distant screech or skittering sound. The faint glow of their lights barely illuminated the space in front of them, leaving the surrounding darkness heavy and oppressive. Jungkook led the way, his steps sure, his eyes constantly scanning for movement.

At the top of a muddy rise, Jungkook stopped abruptly, throwing up a hand. The group froze behind him, their breaths suspended.

“What is it?” Namjoon whispered, straining to see.

“I don’t hear—” Y/N started, but Jungkook’s hand shot out, clamping over her mouth. He didn’t speak, just tilted his head toward the base of the rise.

In the dim glow of the worms, the scene below slowly came into focus. A predator crouched by a pool of water, its elongated limbs gleaming with rain. It moved with a predatory grace, lapping at the water in sharp, mechanical motions. A second one appeared, then a third. Soon, the pool became a grotesque gathering, the creatures landing silently, their guttural clicks blending with the patter of the rain.

“Get behind me,” Jungkook whispered, his voice barely audible but commanding.

Y/N and the others moved closer together, gripping one another tightly. The predators shifted, revealing a slim gap in their formation. A path.

“When I go, we go,” Jungkook murmured, his tone steady as steel. “Full-throttle. No stopping, no looking back.”

The group nodded, their hands trembling as they prepared to run. The rain seemed to fall even harder, each drop a drumbeat against the tense silence.

The gap widened. Jungkook tensed, his muscles coiled like a spring. “Ready... ready…”

Then he bolted.

The group followed in a chaotic, stumbling chain, their glow-worm lights bobbing wildly. The predators scattered at the sudden intrusion, their clicks turning to screeches as they scrambled out of the way. The sound was deafening, a cacophony of rage and hunger. Water splashed up in arcs as they charged through the pool and up the rise.

Leo slipped, her foot catching on a root hidden in the mud. She screamed as she slid backward, her legs plunging into the water. The predators snapped their heads toward her, their movements too fast to track.

“Leo!” Y/N screamed, but Jungkook was already moving. He spun on his heel, skidding through the mud to reach her just as the first predator lunged. With a growl of effort, he caught her arm and hauled her upward, throwing her over the top of the rise with a strength that defied belief.

“Go!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “You know the way!”

Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second, torn between running and staying. Then Namjoon grabbed her arm, dragging her forward. Together, they helped Leo to her feet, and the three of them scrambled down the other side of the rise.

The settlement was a faint silhouette in the distance, its jagged structures barely visible through the rain and darkness. The glow-worm light flickered as they ran, the mud sucking at their boots with every step. Y/N’s lungs burned, her legs screaming for rest, but she forced herself onward. She couldn’t stop. Not now.

Behind them, the night came alive with sound. The screeches of the predators grew louder, accompanied by the sharp clang of metal against claws. Y/N risked a glance back, her heart plummeting.

Jungkook wasn’t there.

Her feet faltered, panic surging through her. “Jungkook!” she shouted into the night, her voice hoarse. Namjoon grabbed her arm, pulling her forward.

“Keep moving!” he yelled. “He’ll catch up!”

A sound cut through the rain—heavy, wet breathing, like some monstrous engine laboring in the dark. Then, out of the shadows, movement. Jungkook appeared, his figure a blur of mud and blood, his steps unrelenting.

But he wasn’t alone.

A predator lunged out of the darkness, its jagged limbs slicing through the air. Jungkook skidded to a halt, his boots digging into the mud. Another predator perched above, crouched like a nightmare on the edge of a building, its clicking reverberating in the night.

Jungkook’s hands moved in a flash, twin shivs appearing in his grip. The faint light caught the blades, illuminating his face—a mask of focus and feral determination. His breathing steadied, his body lowering into a stance that spoke of countless battles.

Behind him, the creatures circled, their movements deliberate, their clicks crescendoing into a symphony of death.

Y/N froze at the settlement’s edge, her heart pounding. “Jungkook!” she screamed again, her voice breaking.

He didn’t look back. Instead, he bared his teeth in a sharp grin, his eyes glinting with something primal. “Keep running!” he roared, the sound cutting through the rain like a war cry.

Then he charged.

Back at the skiff, Namjoon and Leo staggered up the gangway, their soaked bodies leaning heavily on one another. The warm glow of the headlamps engulfed them, offering a fleeting sense of safety, but the fear in their eyes remained.

Y/N stood just outside, her body trembling, every muscle screaming at her to board. Her hand gripped the metal railing so tightly her knuckles shone white against the rain-slick surface. The storm pelted her relentlessly, its cold bite barely registering against the heat of her adrenaline.

“Captain,” Namjoon called softly, urgency threading through his tone. “Come aboard. Please.”

But Y/N didn’t move. Her eyes scanned the ink-black night, searching for any sign of life—or death. She couldn’t abandon him. Not like this.

Then it came: a sound that turned her blood to ice. A terrible, gut-wrenching cacophony of screams—human and beast, interwoven into a symphony of violence.

Jungkook.

Her instincts overtook her. Without hesitation, she yanked the glow-worm bottle from Namjoon’s neck and plunged into the darkness, ignoring his frantic shouts behind her.

“Y/N! Don’t! Frenchie!”

The glow-worms threw shaky halos of light as Y/N sprinted through the downpour, breath tearing from her lungs in ragged bursts. Rain sheeted down, soaking her to the bone, blurring her vision until the trees became shadows and shadows became monsters. But she didn’t stop. She didn’t slow. She couldn’t. Somewhere ahead, someone was screaming. Screaming like they were being ripped apart.

Her boots hit the mud with heavy slaps, slipping and catching, slipping again. Her heartbeat was a thunderclap in her ears, almost drowning out the storm. Almost. Because the sounds ahead were louder now—sharp, inhuman, brutal. Screeches. Something tearing. Something dying.

She burst into the clearing like a bullet through fog, and the scene hit her like a punch to the gut.

The glow-worms gave off just enough light to illuminate the horror: a chaos of blood and shadow and steel.

Jungkook was on his knees, soaked and wild-eyed, his chest rising and falling like he’d been running for days. He was swinging something—a metal bar, maybe? A broken pipe? —at the circling predators that slithered in and out of the gloom, slick limbs glinting with rain and blood. They were fast, terrifyingly coordinated, like some nightmarish ballet. Shadows slicing through shadows, all limbs and blades and hunger.

Blood streaked his face. Some of it his. Some of it not. He looked like something carved from war.

One of the things—taller than the rest, limbs bending wrong—peeled off from the pack and lunged at her.

Y/N barely had time to register it. Just instinct. She dropped like a stone, hitting the ground hard as the creature’s blade of a limb whistled past her skull, close enough to feel the wind of it. She hit the mud face-first, the impact jarring, cold and wet and full of blood.

Her own, maybe. She didn’t care.

“It’s me! It’s me!” she screamed, scrambling forward on hands and knees. “Jungkook, it’s me!”

He turned toward her like he’d been yanked on a string, and for a second—a single, gut-twisting second—his eyes didn’t recognize her. They were wide, haunted, raw.

Not scared of the monsters. Jungkook had never been afraid to die.

No, this was something else.

This was the look of a man afraid he was about to lose everything.

The second they were close enough, Y/N threw herself into his arms. No plan. No hesitation. She just collapsed into him, wrapped her arms tight around his sides and buried her face in his chest.

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. All the strength she’d been clutching onto shattered.

She sobbed like something inside her had cracked open. Big, shaking, gasping sobs. The kind you don’t come back from right away.

She cried for Bindi and Daku. For Peter and Namjoon’s boys.

For Leo. For Namjoon.

Even for Lee. Poor, broken, strung-out Lee, who’d never stood a chance.

And she cried—for Shields.

Shields, who she hated. Who had died screaming. Shields, who’d put himself between the crew and death anyway.

“It’s not fair,” she moaned against Jungkook’s chest, her voice raw and small and lost.

He didn’t say anything at first. Didn’t know what to say.

This wasn’t exactly the kind of thing he was good at. Women didn’t throw themselves at him—not like this. Not with tears and shaking hands. Not with trust.

But he didn’t push her away.

Instead, slowly, he dropped his hands from where they’d hovered, unsure, and pulled her close. Wrapped those strong arms around her like they were made for this.

There were no chains this time.

Oh, Y/N.

She fit.

That was the weirdest part. She fit. Her body curved into his like it belonged there. Her head rested right beneath his chin, snug and natural. He wasn’t thinking about anything stupid—he wasn’t even thinking. He was just there, holding her.

And maybe that was enough.

Y/N’s sobs faded into quiet crying, just small sniffles now, her breath still hiccupping as she tried to pull herself back together.

She didn’t want to look at him.

Didn’t want him to see how far she’d fallen apart.

Didn’t want to see what he saw when he looked at her.

But she remembered—how safe she’d felt back on the skiff, when he’d held her waist to help her up. It hadn’t made sense then, but it hadn’t needed to. That pull toward him had been strange and terrifyingly familiar.

There was something about Jungkook. Always had been.

Now, in the dim glow from the bottle between them, the light from the glow-worms casting strange shadows on their faces, she let herself feel it.

The rain was still pouring, thick and relentless.

The planet was still dead.

But for a moment, it didn’t feel like it.

They pulled away at the same time, like something unspoken had passed between them. Just a few seconds of an embrace—but it had stretched out, slow and meaningful.

Y/N wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, sniffling hard, avoiding his eyes. The embarrassment kicked in like a reflex. God, what was she doing breaking down like that?

But Jungkook didn’t mock her. Didn’t smirk. He was just watching her, face soft in a way she hadn’t seen before.

“Where’s the kid?” he asked, voice hoarse. “The holy man?”

And then his knees buckled.

Y/N barely caught him.

For the first time since the crash, Jungkook had fallen—and not because of anything trying to kill him. Just because his body had finally had enough.

She bent down, her hands fumbling, trembling. Found the bottle she’d dropped earlier and cradled it like it held the last light in the universe.

“The skiff,” she said, sliding to her knees next to him. She looped the bottle around his neck, the soft glow painting shadows across his bloodied skin. “Come on.”

Her voice cracked. But she kept going.

“We’re not dying here. Not today.”

Jungkook swayed, eyes fluttering like he was on the edge of giving up. For a second, she really thought he was going to. That his body had finally surrendered.

But then his jaw clenched. He gritted his teeth. Forced himself up, inch by inch, like a man rising from a grave.

She threw his arm around her shoulders, and they leaned on each other like two halves of something broken trying to walk in one piece.

“Just keep moving,” Y/N whispered, dragging in air like glass. “Ten steps. That’s all we need. Ten steps, Jungkook. We can do this.”

Maybe the words were for him. Maybe they were for her.

Didn’t matter. She needed them said.

“Nine steps. Almost there. Eight. Don’t look back. Don’t stop.”

The predators were screaming again behind them. Clicking, snarling, hunting. That terrible, guttural chorus rising like a stormcloud chasing them down.

Y/N’s legs felt like they were full of molten lead. Her back ached, her lungs felt carved out, her vision was doing that scary fuzzy thing at the edges—but she didn’t stop.

Jungkook was heavy. But he was moving.

They kept going, leaning hard into each other.

And then it happened.

That sound.

Sharp and wet and awful—like the world itself had split open. It sliced through the thick, rain-heavy air, and it didn’t belong. It wasn’t natural, didn’t come from the wind or the storm or the things hunting in the dark. It was something wrong.

And then came the impact.

A brutal hit, all force and chaos, like a freight hauler slamming into their backs. One second they were standing, barely upright, the next they were airborne—flung apart like rag dolls. Y/N hit the ground first, and it hurt.

Hard.

The breath exploded out of her lungs in a raw, useless gasp. Her spine jarred. Her head snapped back. Everything inside her rattled like she’d cracked open. The glow-worm bottle slipped from her hand, rolled into the muck, and kept rolling, casting a dim, sickly light across the slick, churning dirt.

Then the silence came.

That eerie, wrong silence. Like the world had hit pause. The rain kept falling, but she couldn’t hear it. The creatures in the distance—silent. Her own heartbeat—gone, or maybe just buried too deep beneath the throb of pain. It was a silence that swallowed sound, and breath, and hope.

Y/N blinked hard, tried to push herself up, but her body didn’t want to move. Her hands trembled as they sank into the cold, wet earth. She felt hollow, like something vital had been scooped out of her while she wasn’t looking.

Something was wrong.

Something terribly wrong.

And then the pain bloomed.

It didn’t creep in. It ripped through her.

A white-hot bolt of agony erupted in her side, sharp and blinding, and her scream caught in her throat like it didn’t know how to get out. Her eyes shot down, and for a moment—just one split second—she didn’t understand what she was seeing.

Then her mind caught up.

Something was inside her.

A grotesque, jagged limb jutted out from her side—bone, but not. It looked like bone filtered through a nightmare. Shiny and twisted, flecked with blood, slick with her own warmth.

It had punched through her.

Panic surged, all cold and frantic. Her thoughts fractured, scattered like broken glass. She tried to scream but managed only a strangled sob. Her body trembled beneath the weight of shock.

"Not for me," Jungkook’s voice cut through the haze. Hoarse. Raw. He was there suddenly, hands grabbing her, pulling her in.

His grip was strong, but his voice—there was something behind it. Something thin and cracking.

Fear.

Not for himself. For her.

She clung to him with what little strength she had left, her fingers clawing at his shirt, trying to hold on to something real. Her vision swam, dark at the edges, and everything was slipping. Her breath rattled in her chest like it didn’t belong to her anymore.

She wanted to fight. She wanted to. But it was too fast. Too much.

The light faded from her eyes as she collapsed against him. No scream. No last word. Just gone.

Y/N disappeared into the quiet.

The stillness was complete.

For one breath, two, maybe three, the entire world seemed to hold itself still. Then came the scream—not hers, but his.

Jungkook’s voice tore into the silence like a blade, raw and violent and desperate. It echoed off the trees, off the dirt, into the stars.

He laid her down like something sacred, but his hands were shaking. He didn’t know what he was doing. He wasn’t built for this—this kind of loss. Not her.

Never her.

Then the creatures were on him.

The snarl of a hunter cut through the silence behind him, and without thinking, he spun. Rage rose, unfiltered and unchecked. The first one lunged—fast, too fast—but Jungkook was faster.

His hand gripped the jagged metal pipe he’d dropped earlier, and he swung hard, driving it straight into the creature’s throat. There was a sickening crunch, a gurgling shriek, and it collapsed.

Another came from the side—he ducked low, rolled through the mud, came up swinging. The edge of the pipe caught the creature across the head, split it open with a wet crack.

They came fast after that.

Three more. Maybe four. Didn’t matter.

Jungkook moved like a storm, all fury and instinct. The pipe became an extension of his rage—jabbing, swinging, breaking bones, snapping limbs. He didn’t stop. Didn’t feel. Not the blood on his hands or the pain in his muscles or the ache blooming in his ribs.

One of them got close enough to rake a claw across his back. He roared, spun, drove the pipe through its chest so hard it got stuck. He let it go and pulled a blade from the body of another, used that instead.

When the last one fell, the clearing went still again.

Bodies twitched and bled into the mud.

Jungkook stood there for a long second, soaked in rain and blood, panting like a wild animal. The bodies of the creatures lay broken around him, steam rising from their carcasses in the cold night air. His chest heaved, every breath like fire in his throat. His hands—still clenched, still ready to kill—dripped red.

Then he turned.

And everything inside him stopped.

Y/N was gone.

The spot where she'd fallen, where he'd held her, where her blood had soaked into the earth—empty. No body. No trace. Just the flickering glow-worm bottle, cracked and sputtering out in the mud, casting its weak light over churned dirt and drag marks vanishing into the trees.

“No...” The word came out hoarse, broken. His eyes darted wildly into the shadows, scanning the treeline, searching for any movement, any sound—anything that might tell him this wasn’t real. That she wasn’t really gone. That maybe he’d just turned away for too long.

But he knew better. He felt it.

They had taken her.

He let out a sound—somewhere between a growl and a sob—and took off.

Back toward the skiff. Back through the dark.

The storm screamed around him, but he didn’t slow. His boots pounded the ground in a wild rhythm, slipping in the mud, crashing through low-hanging branches. He could still feel the warmth of her blood on his arms, still see her eyes fading into that terrible stillness.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel. There was only forward.

The skiff. That was all that mattered now.

The rain blurred everything—trees, ground, sky—it all became one frantic smear of motion and noise. He didn’t know if he was screaming or just breathing too loud. Didn’t care.

When the ship finally broke through the clouds, it looked like both salvation and ruin.

The hull groaned under the strain of re-entry, its scorched wings catching fire as it tore through the atmosphere—like dying stars burning out in silence. It wasn’t built for this kind of flight. The skiff was a fragile thing, pieced together with desperation and whatever scraps were left behind. But it was all he had. It was all that remained.

Jungkook dropped into the pilot’s seat, muscles barely cooperating, every breath heavy with exhaustion. Blood slid down his back where one of the creatures had caught him—he didn’t remember when. Time had blurred into one long moment of loss and survival.

His hands found the controls automatically, guided by muscle memory. But they felt wrong. As if they belonged to someone else now. Someone untouched by grief. Someone who hadn’t just watched the last good thing in their life vanish into darkness.

His fingers drifted across the console, leaving a streak of blood. Not his.

Hers.

He didn’t wipe it away.

Instead, he stared at it—longer than he should have—jaw locked so tight it sent pain shooting up to his temples.

The nav screen flickered to life: Sol-Track 17B. The route was plotted. The destination didn’t matter. Not anymore. What mattered was the hollow space inside his chest. That aching, consuming absence.

Beside him, Leo sat motionless. A shadow of herself. Her eyes fixed on the stars like she was trying to fall into them, or maybe disappear altogether. The silence between them was unbearable. Heavy. Too real.

Jungkook was the one who finally broke it.

“You can talk to me now,” he said, voice cracked and raw, scraped from somewhere deep inside.

Leo didn’t respond right away. She stayed quiet, gaze lost in the black. When she finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know where to go,” she said. The words landed with weight, not just confusion but something deeper. “I was just running when this all started. Running from everything.”

She paused, fingers fidgeting against the worn edge of her seat. Then, softer, “Where are you going?”

Jungkook didn’t answer at first. Because he didn’t know. Maybe he never had.

“Nowhere,” he said finally, barely audible above the low hum of the engines. “I was just… running too.”

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t even an answer. But it was true. And in that moment, it was enough. Two people drifting, directionless, bound only by shared loss and silence. And somewhere in the middle of that quiet, they seemed to understand each other.

Neither had answers. Neither had safety. Only this—this ship, this moment, this space between everything they’d lost and whatever came next.

The skiff shifted course slightly, engines humming steady. Outside, the stars seemed to move with them, like the universe was shifting, realigning itself. A single bright star emerged in the darkness, clear and sharp.

Jungkook stared at it, something tightening in his chest.

“Might be worth seeing,” he said under his breath. He didn’t mean to say it aloud. It just… slipped out.

From the back, Namjoon stepped into view. Quiet. Grounded. The kind of calm that didn’t ask questions. His gaze landed on the same star, and something passed over his face—something soft, reverent.

“New Mecca,” he said, almost a whisper. As if the name itself held meaning. As if it carried hope.

Jungkook turned to look at him, unreadable. But when he spoke again, his voice held something between skepticism and longing.

“Think a soul could get lost there?” he asked. “In a place like that? Surrounded by people chasing something they’ll never catch?”

Namjoon didn’t blink. “It’s more the kind of place where souls are found,” he said simply. “Not lost.”

Jungkook said nothing, eyes drifting back to the star. He didn’t know if he believed it. He wasn’t sure if he could believe anything anymore.

The silence held, stretched taut over the hum of the skiff.

Leo shifted in her seat. Still staring at the void, but her voice cut through it.

“What do we tell them?” she asked. “When we land. About you.”

Jungkook didn’t turn. He kept his eyes forward, face unreadable.

“Tell ’em I died on that rock.”

Leo looked over at him, brow drawn. “You serious?”

He finally glanced her way—just a flicker of a look. Cold. Tired. Certain.

“Yeah.”

She didn’t push it. Just nodded, slowly. “Alright.”

Namjoon stood in the back, arms crossed, leaning against the wall like he’d been listening the whole time. His voice came low.

“Cleanest lie we’ve got.”

Jungkook’s mouth curved—barely. Not a smile. Not even close. But something like it.

“Let the dead man take the blame,” he said. “Might keep you all safer.”

No one argued.

Leo settled back into her seat, letting the weight of everything sink into her bones. Namjoon moved to the co-pilot’s chair and keyed in the final approach vector. The skiff adjusted, smooth and quiet.

They didn’t speak again.

The light from the nearby star started to spill across the dash, casting long shadows inside the cockpit. The scorched metal of the skiff caught the glow, gleaming faintly—wreckage limping its way toward something that might, on a generous day, be called hope.

Jungkook leaned into his seat, staring at that one bright point in the dark. A place with temples and pilgrims. A place where people went to be saved.

Didn’t matter.

He’d done what he had to. Got them off that planet. Got them through.

That was enough.

Behind him, the planet shrank into nothing—just another dead world in a galaxy full of them.

And in front of him, New Mecca waited.

Not for him.

Just for the story of him.

Let them believe the killer died down there. Let them believe the monster went down with the dark.

It was better that way.

The skiff surged forward, engines low and steady. And somewhere behind the silence, behind the metal, behind the blood and ash and fire...

A man who wasn’t supposed to survive lived on anyway.

Taglist: @fancypeacepersona @ssbb-22 @mar-lo-pap @sathom013 @kimyishin @ttanniett @sweetvoidstuff @keiarajm @sathom013 @miniesjams32

[alalnsted]

[talitheghost-dolly]

If Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon really cared about making money, they would've given us this crossover, goddammit!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Re:Birth | Re:Start [Part 1]

He's just a vulture, searching for scraps to survive, when he finds more than he could've ever thought of finding. This could turn his whole life around- but oh no...

Tags/Warnings: Post apocalypse AU, Alien AU, Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Adult Themes, mild Violence and Blood, mentions of death, sci-fi, romance

Wordcount: 5.7k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Everything that’s in it is yours.”

That was what he was told when he bought the pile of scrap, all of it junk from ages ago still valuable to someone like him. He trades this stuff after all- a member of the ‘Vultures’, a group of people who take on trash to pick out the most vaulable parts of it all. This time, Jungkook got his hands on something special- an old abandoned rescue ship back from when earth first fell to nuclear weapons. That was hundreds of years ago by now, planet completely abandoned and only inhabited by intergalactic clean-up troops trying their best to save whats left of it all.

Opening the once automated sliding doors in the back is tough, but Jungkook makes do with some of the equipment and knowledge from years of experience, eventually finding his way inside. It’s small for someone like him, but probably spacious enough for a good amount of humans, which this was made for after all. The lights don’t work, and he doesn’t really expect them to- but what does surprise him is the still glowing red emergency lights further in the distance, down a small hallway kind of way.

The moment he reaches a door that’s sealed heavily, he’s a bit stunned. It’s known that humans have made a certain type of energy preserving system to keep ships like these going for hundreds of years, but many if not most of them all either crashed, or opened early on other planets during their great escape from earth centuries ago. And with the rather short lifespan of humans, there’s as of now no record of a surviving full blood human on any of the planets of this solar system.

Aex 3 is Jungkook’s home planet- he never had to adjust to anything here. He was born here, and most likely, he’ll spend his dying years here too, whenever that happens.

As he tries to find a way into the large bunker-like room, he has to think of what he might find. Most likely corpses he will have to report to the government so they can be disposed of in a proper manner considering that research on humans is still going on, and its also not like he hasn’t seen a dead body before. He’s well aquainted with rotting flesh and decay, after all, that’s what he’s living off of in a way. But he can’t say that he likes it- not at all. He’d love to avoid the sight and smell, if possible.

When the doorlock hisses at the strength he uses to pry it open with a metal tool he keeps around for cases like this, he know he’s close to finally opening it. But what he’s met with once he’s finally in, squeezing through a rather tight opening since the door has rusted so badly to the floor that it just can’t open any further, leaves him stunned yet again.

It’s cold in here, and most of all dark, if not for a few pity lights still glowing, although some are flickering on their last breaths. He instantly puts on a facemask just in case there's anything dangerous in the air- just as a safety measure. Many of the to him familiar cryo-chambers are fogged, empty, leaking or partially opened- and the smell is familiar too, flesh of the poor souls who never made it out alive still faintly in the air. The humans once inside the pods died long ago, long enough to only leave mostly bone and clothing behind, but what Jungkook’s glowing eyes keep their attention to, is a single cryo-pod, small digital panel still active, though it’s covered in dust.

He’s walking closer, because if that think is still working, he might have a chance at recovering those energy cells humans used back in the day still intact. That would fetch him a fortune, for sure- there's rich collectors of these things on his planet, and on others close by.

Though, his hand stutters the moment he removes dust- because the information on the panel cannot possibly be correct.

It displays a name first, and then a year and a date. He assumes this must be your date of birth- which is so long ago he’s sure his own lineage wasn’t even created yet. He’s born a species of alien-human connection, after all; a species created from very early attempts at specially modifying human DNA to make them more capable of intergalactic travel. It was considered failed at first, but after generations, Jungkook’s species has become stronger, healthier, taller and most of all- exactly what they aimed for.

There is no planet he couldn’t survive on. His body is capable of adapting to the most unfriendly environments.

It simply took time- and humans are said to have been terribly impatient.

He slides his finger over the panel, sucessfully swiping to another set of information, most of it telling him that the system is still active, still running. But there’s also other info that causes his warm-blooded body to cool down signitatively.

‘Starting SYSTEM_STOP:HIBERNATION-EXIT'

“Wait, no no no no-” He panics, tapping away at the screen until he manages to somehow not have the whole thing unfreeze on him, leaving him breathless for a good moment or two. With an unsure hand, he wipes at the glass front, to uncover a soft, red light inside, and most of all-

A body. And it’s most certainly not dead-

It’s a full-blood human.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s been two days.

Two days since he found you in there, still kept in your little pod, still completely unaware of what’s going on around you.

Do you dream? According to a friend of his who researches humans, you could be, but apparently the chances of that are very low due to your brain being kept at a stage of being not active. Jungkook faces a very bad situation here, because technically, he should absolutely report this to his local research office- but he’s also sitting on an amount of money that could change his life forever.

No more scrap metal. No more sleeping in his small apartment that’s falling apart. No more fighting on the streets over pitiful amounts of change.

He sighs as he sits down close to your pod, opening a bag of snacks for himself as he looks over at the clear top. Your eyes are closed, and you seem to be in a very good shape. If he was to calculate correctly, you were about his age when you left earth and got put into this thing- and yet, you look to be very small compared to modern day human-descendants and most species of humanoid beings. He himself is a little above average, sure- but that’s besides the point.

If you woke up now, you’d probably be traumatized.

Namjoon, his friend who studies humans, had told him once that humans can die from emotional trauma alone. Their own immune system can just one day riot against its own host and kill it from the insides. And DNA can mutate from nothing all of a sudden and create tumors that burden the body so much it cannot continue normal function.

Humans are so frail. Should he just.. Do you a favor?

Your family, your friends, everything you knew is gone after all. You’re alone, a sole survivor, and once the institute gets a whiff of your existence, you’ll probably be kept like a laboratory animal in a sterile environment for testing and research. It’s fucked up- but Jungkook isn’t a murderer.

The next day, when he’s back again, he watches you once more- taking you in for a moment, mesmerized by the simple fact that you are existing. The odds of this are so incredibly small that it fascinates him to no ends. He’s asked Namjoon about some stuff last night over drinks, and apparently, most humans who exited the hibernation protocol all lack any memories. They have basic knowledge of functions, they can speak and they know how to balance and have basic reflexes- but they all have to re-learn more complicated tasks like tying shoes, or even how to calculate and tell time. So maybe, if you were to wake up, the trauma wouldn’t be so bad?

Jungkook is conflicted. The price you’d fetch for him would be astronomical. He’d be set for life, and some. It’s just a call. Or even just a text to namjoon.

He’s killed a guy before. Shot him right in the chest for having attempted to sell his own kid on the streets, and Jungkook felt not a single drop of remorse. And yet, he can’t do this. He can’t just be the same as everyone else.

You don’t deserve this.

But do you deserve to live like this too?

You’ll never have a normal life, not at all. You’ll either have to be on the run forever, or set yourself into the laboratories- both options aren’t ideal. Jungkook scratches his head for a moment, before he sighs, and slides one of his hands over his face in agony. This issue isn’t letting him sleep for a second. What’s he supposed to do?

Can he trust namjoon enough to file him in on this?

Sudden light makes him snap his face towards where you’re still in hibernation however as the panel seems to malfunction for a good second or two, causing him distress. The light inside your pod are now off as well, putting you in complete darkness- and he doesn’t know what posesses him as he taps and swipes once more, frantically trying to find a single setting to activate. And then-

‘Starting SYSTEM_STOP:HIBERNATION-EXIT'

This time, he lets it happen, steps a bit aside just in case, even though he doesn’t know what might happen now. Maybe you’re dying in there, or maybe this is simply the course of nature in a way? He doesn’t know, as the pod hisses and clicks, something sounding as if it snaps apart or breaks, worrying him. After a good little while of this, there’s silence, lock on the clear top clicking, but never opening.

Should he take a look? It won’t hurt, right?

The small panel is now dark, and as the inside of the pod foggs up, Jungkook realizes that it might just be stuck- hands of his forcing the acrylic glass upwards until it finally opens with a painful cracking sound of the hinges protesting against his aggression.

It’s silent, again.

He can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, if anything he hears even less noise than usual with the ventilation of the system and the flickering lights finally having given up by now. As he looks inside, he notices just how.. Clean everything is still where you’re laying, looking like you are simply asleep. But what concerns him is the fact that, while one touch offers him the knowledge of your body temperature rising and heart beating again, you’re yet to gain consciousness.

Jungkook knows next to nothing about human health. Why would he?

So, minutes later, he’s guarding the tight squeeze at the entrance to the room you’re in, Namjoon looking at him with suspicion and crossed arms. “You have to swear first.” Jungkook almost growls threateningly, holding out his hand.

“I swear I’ll report nothing.” His friend replies, before he hooks his ring finger around Jungkook’s, and pulls till there is a quiet crack- a way of proving that he means his ‘promise’.

“Okay.” Jungkook sighs deeply, panic still present in his bones as he lets his friend into the chamber.

“Wow. This is all incredibly preserved..” Namjoon says, already distracted by the remains of a human with mummified flesh still present, when Jungkook makes an almost growling sound to get his friend’s attention. “Right. What do you have there?” He asks, walking closer- before his eyes widen, and his steps become longer, quicker, like he can’t get closer fast enough. “That is..! Is she alive?!” He gasps, frantically looking around before he steps around the pod for a better angle to look at you.

“Yes? No?” Jungkook struggles. “I don’t know. The whole thing.. Made weird noises and I think the system gave up, so I made it exit the hibernation stuff-” Jungkook explains, while Namjoon puts his glasses on.

“She was still in hibernation when you found her?” He asks, and Jungkook nods. “That is.. So she just exited.. I- Jungkook, I would’ve brought more equipment if I had known-” He mumbles to himself as he seems to gently turn you a little in the cushioned bed you’re in, specifically designed to move and tilt to not cause any pressure on the body over time. “She’s a bit cold I believe.. And considering that no one has ever survived in these pods for so long, there might be damage to either internal organs or her brain..” He says, before he steps back. “Either way, she can’t stay here.”

“Oh wow I would’ve never guessed.” Jungkook sarcastically responds, rolling his eyes before he looks around. “How do we get her out of here without anyone noticing?” He asks, as he picks up a blanket. “Can we just.. Wrap her up and I don’t know.. Maybe say she’s a friend from Vinos? They’re pretty short people too..” He tries to come up, and Namjoon seems unconfident.

“I’m not sure what the dust might do to her skin, since she has been kept in isolation for so long, and she might not react well to the environment here..” He thinks, when Jungkook looks at him urgently. “..but you’re right. Yes, lets.. But be careful.”

“I’m always careful-” Jungkook complains almost childishly, though he hesitates a bit at approaching you with the blanket, a little worried now.

“Let me do it-” Namjoon tries, but Jungkook shakes his head, and carefully moves you into a sitting position, where your body leans heavily against his own, a form of physical contact he’s not quite used to, especially from the opposite sex. “Care-”

“I am careful.” He huffs, as he makes sure to wrap the blanket around you as best as he can, before he scoops you up to carry you. “Alright, lets get out of here then.”

Namjoon seems a bit hesitant at first, torn between staying and leaving-

But ultimately, he chooses the last option, and leaves behind Jungkook.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Alright I made sure it’s not connected to any of the servers anymore, so now I just have to-” Namjoon begins, as Jungkook jumps up to your defense at the sight of the needle. “-Jungkook, I have to take at least some blood to make some research as to her current state.” He reassures his friend, who only reluctantly sits down again. Somehow, with you being unable to really do anything, let alone consent, Jungkook feels incredibly protective.

He knows he wouldn’t like someone poking around on and inside him either while he was unconscious.

But Namjoon is right- there's no real other way to check up on you other than this- so he lets his friend continue, tests soon bringing in results as you’re hours later asleep on a mattress Jungkook usually sleeps on in his home. Namjoon had brought his equipment along with him, fearing that his own home that’s paid for by the research institute might be too dangerous for you to reside in.

While Namjoon is busy looking at the results in Jungkook’s little open kitchen a bit further away, Jungkook himself is busy thinking about what life will look like for you, if you survive. Somehow, you remind him of himself when he was born- tellings of his mother reminiscing about how he had been born underneath the open skies, with no place to call home, and no guarantee of survival. He ultimately did simply because she took him in as her own- but if it was any different, he wouldn’t exist today.

How will your life play out now?

In a way, he believes this might be the universe giving him a chance to pay back that second chance at life he’d been given so many years ago. Maybe now, he can be that person to pick you up and help you gain your footing in the world. He might not be the best person considering his job and own struggles- but he surely wants to try.

Because all other options just don’t sound right.

“It seems like she has an infection currently.. Her white blood cells are elevated.” Namjoon says as he walks closer with a digital tablet containing all the information from the tests he made. “Her kidneys don’t seem to work properly.”

“Does that mean she will die?” Jungkook worries, and Namjoon sighs.

“No, and if she does it won’t be from a mere kidney infection, at least not in the stage she’s in.” He explains. “Her temperature is a bit high and when she wakes up she will definitely feel uncomfortable, but nothing that can’t be treated with standard antibiotics.” He says.

“Antibiotics?” Jungkook cringes. “That’s.. Ancient medicine.” He says, and Namjoon nods.

“She’s technically ancient too, Jungkook.”

Right.

“So, when will she wake up?” Jungkook wonders, as Namjoon measures your heartrate with a small electronic device close by to keep him constantly updated.

“Probably in the next few hours. Her body is slowly adjusting to the change in her environment, that’ll take some time.” He says, and Jungkook is a bit reassured by the clear calm attitude his friend has while making sure to keep an eye on your vitals.

“Namjoon?” Jungkook asks, as his friend looks up at him. “I’m.. Glad you’re here.”

“Well, you should be.” Namjoon proudly smiles, happily accepting that praise when you suddenly squeeze close your eyes, the first sign of life you gave until now. Jungkook is instantly sitting up, standing somewhat over you as Namjoon pushes him back with a hand on his chest. “Give her space. We don’t know how she’ll react.” He says calmly, as Jungkook worriedly watches you slowly wake up.

It visibly takes you a while to open your eyes, but when you do, it’s like Jungkook is caught up in a moment of timelessness.

It’s tough to explain- the second your eyes meet, he’s caught off guard like an animal staring right at it’s biggest predator, unsure what is about to happen now. He’s not fearful of you, absolutely not- but he’s frozen in place, and it only takes a moment until he realizes what’s happening.

“Well, at least she won’t have issues finding someone to look after her.” Namjoon says, having noticed from the way Jungkook’s pupils dilated to the slight parting of his friend’s lips, that he’s clearly just imprinted on you. It’s common for his age and species after all- and it’s also not very surprising, considering that he has a good amount of human DNA in him that survived all those centuries.

“I- uh, wait, no..” Jungkook stumbles over his words, as he clears his throat, and shakes his head. “I can’t. I don’t have any funds to really feed another person, and neither can she live here-”

“We’ll take his step by step. For now, this is where she’ll stay.” Namjoon decides, before he walks closer to you. “Hm. Do you understand what I’m saying?” He asks you, and you look at him for a moment, visibly turning a little unsure and even fearful of the situation.

You.. Kind of understand them. But it’s like they’re speaking with an incredibly strong accent that makes it tough to really pull apart the words and their meaning if they speak fast.

“We are friends.” Namjoon explains, as Jungkook walks closer. “This- that’s Jungkook. I’m Namjoon. And you?” He wonders, as you think for a good while, causing the older alien to worry that you might not understand common language.

After all, from what he knows, humans used to have many very much different languages in which they used to communicate in, before the interplanetary counsil decided on a single language to be spoken and taught to everyone. So maybe you weren’t taught universal language?

But then you meekly utter your name, and Namjoon sighs in relief.

“Good. Very good, thank you.” He says, as Jungkook adjusts your blanket when he notices you shivering. “Can you sit up?” Namjoon wonders, and you do, slowly, with the help of Jungkook’s hand on your back- the researcher quickly moving to check you over a little more, just to be sure.

You just let it happen, instead looking around the rather dark and small apartment for a moment.

You have no idea where you came from- only having some faint memories of putting on a very standardized set of clothes and laying down in a very cold bed? You don’t quite remember what exactly it was, but you do know that you went to sleep in there- last sight that of someone with a facemask tapping on a digital panel, before you went to sleep. And then?

Darkness. There’s nothing else.

You don’t really feel frightened by those two people any longer as you take a proper look around and at them both, curiously watching the way Namjoon seems to lift your arms to test your reflexes and strength. Jungkook next to you keeps an eye on things, and for some reason, that makes you feel protected.

You lean into him a little while Namjoon seems to talk about something incredibly complicated, way too fast for you to really understand it- but Jungkook appears to understand, so you’re not worried about anything for the moment.

After all, you also don’t know that your life didn’t just begin again-

But that it just got a whole lot more complicated.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“There. That should be more comfortable.” Jungkook offers, having finalized his task of putting another mattress down onto the floor next to where he usually sleeps.

You now have your own blankets, pillows and mattress- after just a few days, Jungkook has quite clearly decided to keep you around, and make your situation a permanent one. He’s learned a few things about humans and their health from Namjoon who had to go back to the institute in order to not have them get any suspicions.

Jungkook has, since then, begun to dig through the rest of the thing for valuables- wrecking the open pod as well just to make sure that the government officials won’t look too much into things once they pick up the other remains.

“Where do you.. Go?” You ask Jungkook, as he sits down on his own bed next to where you sit. He seems to have equally a bit of trouble understanding you properly, but he tries hard, and you appreciate that. “like, during the day. Where do you go?” You ask, and at that he seems to understand.

“I take apart things, and sell the most valuable parts.” he explains. “Uh.. Like..” He takes a box of screws and tools. “I take this, see?” He says, before he takes out the tools of the tiny metal box, putting them into their own spots. “And then I sell everything. This for ten, this for fifteen, and so on.” He attempts to explain, and you perk up at that, nodding.

“I see!” You say, making him smile almost shyly at seeing you happy. He carefully puts everything back into the box before putting it away, when he hears your stomach growling, causing him to look at you with wide eyes for a second before he realizes that you probably haven’t eaten anything today.

“Oh! I don’t.. Have anything here you can eat.” He mumbles a bit disappointed, before he looks around.

Should he do this? He probably shouldn’t, but he could always just pass you off as a someone born on Vinos. And to be fair, everyone would absolutely believe that considering that you do fit them mostly. Not quite, but mostly.

But oddities define the norm, as they say.

“To be fair, you do need clothes too.. You can’t keep wearing mine.” He says, before he gets up. “Come on, I’ll carry you since you don’t have shoes yet.” He offers, and you accept that, letting him carry you on his back with his hands steadying your legs at your thighs on his sides, while your arms are over his shoulders. It’s your first time outside, and Jungkook doesn’t really think about it for a good moment, until you seem to hide in the crook of his neck. “Oh- right, the sun must be really bright.. I forgot. Sorry.” He says, as he hurries to walk in the shadows of the buildings as to not have you burn into a crisp on his back.

He wonders what the weather was like on earth before it got poisoned. Was it nice? What was nature like? Or the cities?

What was your life like before all of this?

“Alright- in here you can walk, the floors are relatively clean. Let’s get you some shoes..” He mumbles, as he leads you around with a hand on your upper back right between your shoulders, as he looks for anything that might fit you.

You don't remember where you came from, and neither do you remember if you've always lived here. Everything looks foreign but also familiar to you, as if the world you're currently in has shifted just enough to be different, but not enough to become strange. You struggle to read most signs and labels, but you also realize that you don't have to be able to do so, as Jungkook walks around a corner with a pair of shoes for you to try on.

“They should technically fit? I don't really have a good eye for sizes..” he mumbles, as he watches you slip into the shoes that fit surprisingly well. There's a bit of room there for thicker socks if the weather gets colder, so you'll be able to wear these in any kind of weather.

Wait. Do the seasons even change here?

“You like them?” Jungkook asks, and you nod, because you genuinely do. When he walks to pay for them, you instantly put them on near the exit of the store while Jungkook pays for them at the counter, where a young lady with silver strands in her hair takes his money to count and then nod. When he walks towards you, you kind of feel like the canine creature outside the store tied to a lamppost by its owner just seconds ago, seeing your person again. There's a strange mix of relief and happiness when he takes your hand to walk through the town with you, the man looking around for what you think might be something to eat.

He finds it, after some walking. Though he hesitates to enter.

“Is it dangerous?” you ask, having to repeat your question as he leans down to hear you better over the sound of talking people, honking vehicles and construction work nearby. He shakes his head- though it doesn't convince you.

“its not dangerous, no. I just.. don't know if you can eat any of what they offer.” He explains, before he walks inside. “lets see.. you can surely eat something we get for children…” the tall man mumbles to himself, before he orders something. The hood of his sweater has been pulled over your head this entire time as if to hide you- and you can see some other people, shorter than you, wear clothes in a similar way. One of those people waves at you with an odd gesture that catches you off guard- but you try and repeat it the best you can, causing the small table to erupt into laughter of endearment.

Someone walks closer, stands next to jungkook. He instantly holds onto your hand.

“A fellow Vinoson. Didn't think you'd be that kind of guy, Jungkook.” The young man seems to joke, making Jungkook laugh as he squeezes your hand a little.

“ah, what can I say? I guess you were right when you said you can't resist their charm sometimes.” He says, and you’re not quite sure what he's hinting at. But you also trust him- so maybe this is simply for the best to play along, as you push yourself into Jungkook's side a little like you've seen another couple do earlier when you entered.

“ah, well she seems to be charmed by you just the same.” The man nods, before he nods to you. “Do you by chance have any cobalt-capsules in your stock?” he asks, and Jungkook agrees with a head-gesture.

“actually, I do. But i'll have to raise my usual prices a bit these days, since the quality is high for these, and you rarely get them in that state anymore.” Jungkook says while waiting for his order of food to arrive. “they're all between 70% and 85%. Got them checked at Yoongi's.” he proudly says, clearly confident in his tone.

“My, that sounds indeed like a rare gem you found there. How much for five?” the man asks, and Jungkook picks up his order of food in the silver lined paper bag, before he turns fully towards his apparent costumer.

“1.4 Kay. I gotta feed two mouths these days, hope you understand.” Jungkook appears to joke- though that glimmer in his eyes tells you that he's genuinely serious with the price, almost hopeful.

“you now what?” the man says, before he nods to you. "Alright.” The man agrees. “Though only for a chance to meet your child, once its there. I cannot imagine what a Vinoson and a Humanoid would create.” He jokes, making Jungkook cringe a little as he nods however.

“deal. Though, that might take a while.”

Back at home, now with the food in front of you, and the thick long sweater-poncho kind of situation off of your body, you take your first bites of food. “according to the notes left by Namjoon, local produce and oil should be fine for you to consume.” He offers as reassurance. “So this has no meat in it. I'll do some research later- or you can have a tiny bit of mine, and see how you do?” he asks, and you nod at that, causing him to laugh. “did you even understand me, or are you just agreeing to anything?” he jokes, but you shake your head.

“no, I understand.” You answer, almost a bit offended. “I just.. you talk fast sometimes. Then I struggle.” You explain to him, and he nods.

“i'll keep that in mind then.”

Later during the rest of the early day, he turns on the radio- while you still struggle to somewhat understand the fast speech especially with the occasional static cutting the announcer off, you listen to it.

“-have come to the conclusion that the remaining human bacteria in the cryo-pod found at Ainum-Square last week, have simply been remains that were well preserved due to the system's battery system still being intact. Researchers have also examined the other human remains at the site, and told ACS-Station that the passengers of that flight most likely died shortly after impact due to pressure changes and lack of oxygen.”

You listen to it still, when Jungkook walks up behind you, clearly curious, but also hesitant.

Do you remember those passengers? Or do you not?

“I'm human too, right?” you ask Jungkook, who nods. “And you're a.. humanoid?” you ask, making him nod, though he shrugs his shoulders.

“that's the broad term. In reality, there's different humanoid races. I was born here on Aex, so i'm technically an H3. The third Humanoid species to inhabit a planet.” He explains. “take it as.. every humanoid started from humans, right? And then they kind of.. began travelling. Some stayed on Cepheid, and became very resistent to the harsh climate and hot temperatures. They're H1. H2 are the ones that eventually populated Chronos 16, those are really sensitive to light, but they can endure freezing climates. Have a weirdly arrogant attitude though..” Jungkook mumbles. “and then, well, H3 are people like me, who were born here on Aex. We grow a bit taller, our bodies can adapt to changes in atmospheric pressure and we have more.. I guess, complex social behavior?” he wonders. “huh, but I'm rambling. You probably didn't understand half of it.” He sighs with a smile, though you shake your head.

“so.. where are the original humanoids then?” you ask.

“they're on earth, mostly. Helping in the cleanup efforts after the nuclear disaster of 2245.” He explains.

“and.. humans?”

Jungkook grows silent for a moment, before he turns a little to you, as if to invite you for something you're not sure of. “Most of them.. died during the disaster, or from the health effects of exposure. Many fled to neighboring planets, and eventually.. well, they got scared to be wiped out entirely, I guess? So they began to try and enhance their DNA to create stronger and more resistant generations. It.. took them too long though. They got impatient, and abandoned the project after not even a century.” He says.

“So, no humans are alive anymore?” you ask, making him laugh.

“they are. In my DNA, and many of the other Humanoids.” He offers kindly. “and, well, in you. A pure human, so to say.” He offers.

It takes you a moment to take all of it in, really think about it and process that information. What Jungkook is saying is that the project never failed- but simply took too long for any human to ever see the results it brought. You're the last of your kind, possibly.

“Why did you.. say I was from Vinos?” you ask, and he sighs.

“because.. a lot of human history got lost in the disaster. And a lot of it, no one can read.” He explains. “I’m.. worried. About what the research institute might do if they knew you existed.” He simply says.

“will you.. can I stay here?” you ask. “for now?”

And jungkook nods, with a kind smile.

“of course.” He says, putting a gentle hand onto your head.

“I’ll try my best to keep you safe.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[sersh]

CAILEE SPAENY Rain Carradine spacesuit design by Carlos Rosario for Alien: Romulus

[allwhiterain]

Tom Skerritt and Veronica Cartwright behind the scenes of Alien (1979) directed by Ridley Scott

[fluffypotatey]

imma throw up