"Our outpost far within the largest canyon has been overran. Outposters Drone 705,493,538 "Jaeger" and Drone 705,493,688 "Cauli" reported massive casualties for the encroaching Chrysalis forces. However, Your Majesty, the Chrysalisian drones continue the march undeterred. They'll reach Combs 2 and 3 at this rate in less than fifty-four hours. Your advice?"

Thorax the Titan couldn't have any worse of a day.

Just what was the Chrysalis menace thinking? Intelligence. Cunning. Things he wasn't; he was a pure offensive genius with the art of throwing 'lings into death. How was he gonna come back from this 31-16 deficit? There was only one solution, and it involves needing some sort of Saint for this one. Massaging his eyes and steeling his nerves, the hulking Changeling shifted his auburn eyes towards his nearest messengers in the room. The room, you ask, is simple by design. Box-like with nothing accountable on the walls, with a single table taking up about a nipple-proportion space of the breast that is the room. The six 'lings stand all around them, Thorax included with his regalia of a crown and royal cape.

Where had he gone wrong? Why wasn't it working?! The True Evil crawls towards him furiously as each day passes, and it only seems that no pony is able to stop this. The chances seemed damn near impossible. Stoically, he nodded towards his Defensive Advisor of the Army, Yek-Yek of the Shield. "Yek, what do you propose?" He inquired, the room going dead silent as the words hung like a taunting enemy in the air.

Yek-Yek was stoic as well, glancing up at the King as the soft light above them illuminated his features. Blinded left eye, and a chemical burn mark all around it, exposing his chitin towards the world, bone and all. Not only that, but it seems his left fang was also chipped, rendering it as a normal tooth rather than a ferocious canine's. His hat signified his rank and his ribbons, hanging sternly over his forehead as he glancing down at the map with an intense gaze.

"Pull back all border forces and prepare evacuations of all nearby combs to further inland combs. We will hold out in the abandoned combs with firepower and trickery never seen before. Deploying the Marshal-" One of the Changelings twitched his ear, the tag 'MARSHAL' hung proudly on his uniform, "-is our best bet to even counter the True Evil." During his explanation he had managed to unfurl a pointing stick and whacked it towards the map with a sharp snap of wood, sporadically dragging it along the map and circling locations to emphasize his points.

"Solid thinking, Yek-Yek. What about supply routes?"

"Oh. Didn't think of that."

Silence followed for a nervous three seconds. A tap of wood resounded through the room quickly after, "HERE!"

And Thorax glanced down at the table.

A small outlined box just near the defensive positions Yek-Yek had pointed to, all conveniently labeled "SUPPLIES!!!!!" with a red fill. "Oh."

"Hello, are you okay?" A fuzzy voice that was clearly male raped and pillaged its way into Jaeger's fleeting consciousness, slowly focusing him onto reality. Everything felt heavy. Scratch heavy, more like fucking terrible. Who would even want to wake up in such an abysmal headache and mental state he was in? Even his limbs seemed to reject the commands to move even as the voice fondled his ears like a cheese grater once more. "Sir, you took a nasty fuckin' hit."

To say it was a nasty hit was an understatement. Judging by his position on a clearly misproportioned hard surface, it was safe to say his chest felt caved in, and he definitely could feel the numbness of a broken chitin around his primary left hoof. The scraping feeling of a branch piercing his skin and chipping inside his chitin which was currently suspending him from the tree at a rather awkward angle would also prove evident to his half-conscious deduction case that he was indeed fucked. He tried to speak, but his vocal chords soon proven themselves worthy of a dishonorable mention as they had left the cognition ceremonial awards before it even began. In other words, it hurt to speak, and only came out as moans and slurred fumbling of words, the victim of endorphins and biological pain killers working overdrive like a minority to fix this 'pain' issue.

He blinked slowly, the voice getting more anxious. "Sir! Are you ALIVE?"

Go away, mom. I'm sleepin', Jaeger moaned mentally, closing an eye as the ratio of consciousness-to-sleep dwindled from 1:1 to 1:2. Praise be unto the heavens above, as with one eye closed, his brain naturally gave one last pump of focus to keep him awake. As expected, he began to become focused on his surroundings, the puke of colors slowly starting to break off from British rule to form their own colonies of organisms and inanimate objects. First thing he saw in a solid form was surely a spectacle to see.

It was a cloudy-eyed Changeling. Clearly blind, if he had to guess, as the blind changeling was facing opposite his way, but his head cocked to the side. It had a hat on, in a bowler-esque style, to be exact. Black with a white band, and it carried a stepping cane which was colored black with a polished white crystal ball as it's grip. Give the stallion a coat and he'd be a certified pimp. Oh, and more jewelry, too. The snout ring which was just a simple diamond was a bit too much, but overall the dude looked good if Jaeger was a gold-digging whorse.

Either way, he screamed in protested gargles and throat-burning grunts, fainting promptly after.

The cloudy-eyed Changeling turned around, completely startled with a fearful expression on it's face at the same time being peeved, set his blinded eyes onto the unconscious form of Jaeger. "Dude, you aight? Need some water?"

Jaeger wasn't responding, rather his bindle took to responding by falling off the tree to snap on a conveniently placed cactus that somehow looked extremely angry. The 'ling, named Jazz by the bold print of his cane, pulled his hat up briefly to get a metaphorical better eye on Jaeger. About two-point-three seconds later he came up with his best deduction to date.

"This muhfucka dead."

The sky was a setting orange, and the freezing badlands which seemed to get a darker tinge of darker orange-red, was quickly getting more red as the current battle raged on. Thousands of Chrysalis supports on what the Badlands would know as the Great Divide on the Battle of Badland Haysin, where Queen Chrysalis would face the Marshall of Comb C in an old abandoned coaltown originally made from ponies abandoned after they were ran out of the Badlands.

If anyone could hazard a damn guess, the aforementioned town also served as a buffer zone for the mainland Combs that the rebellion against Chrysalis to enter in. However, it was also the issue of being winter time and being packed like fucking sardines in brutal Mortal Kom- wrong universe; in brutal combat.

"If I could summon a guess, it could be the guess that you're fuckin' dead you Chrysalis tit-suckin' freak." Jaeger growled, a newly fashioned sword from the depths of convenience plunging into the sternum of the garbed Chrysalis-colored Changeling. It wasn't a pretty or satisfying death, as the poor stallion's sternum cracked audibly as Jaeger's sword was seemingly resistant to being pulled out, even as the changeling's eyes dulled from their glowing hue. Growling in frustration, he threw the changeling with the sword, leaving him to crumple into a ragdoll carcass.

With a few clinks and clacks of wood and hollow metal, Jaeger posed proudly with the repeater crossbow in his hooves, his wings sprawled out (and flapping incessantly to keep him afloat, mind you) as he quickly shouldered it towards the direction of a few dueling changelings.

With a quick message to his brain of "help a brother out, pally pal stallion coltstallion guy dude," his hoof twitched on the trigger and held it on the aforementioned contraption. With whines of primitive pony magic, parts of the crossbow exploded to life in a magic hue of blue, and immediately snaps of wood and string reverberated from the crossbow as it flicked out bolt after bolt with as ease as a border-jumping minority after her thirteenth pregnancy.

His movements were a blur, and his actions robotic as he switched from target-to-target, his bolts striking true as they dug into their chitins and skulls, effectively ending them during mid-strike, dodge, or intercourse in the non-sexual degree. Jaeger wasn't named Jaeger for nothing, folks. This motherfucker had the accuracy of quite possibly one of the deadliest sharpshooters in the world, and he was doing easy kills with an automatic crossbow on enemies who were behind friendlies or in front; either way, he got the kill, and the ally wasn't killed. Or, y'know, they died before the bolt reached the enemy. Either way, not a great time for any party.

"I have the absolutely positively hardest of wing-boners right now." Jaeger announced as his eyes snapped over to the form of Cauli a few steps away, having been explicitly and gruesomely dispatching some Chrysalis-supporters with her sword and crossbow. The dexterity with her hooves was impeccable. Wonder what it felt like on his dick.

Hush, brain. No sexual thoughts until after chances of death are null.

Jaeger barely had the focus to regain battle-mode in his mind to block an incoming sword swipe with the metallic part of his crossbow, which was pretty much everything exception of the mechanisms operating the, y'know, release of the sperm-bolts.

Fucking brain.

Using his barrel in a horizontal pose to block the sword with both hooves, he stood on his hind legs per usual to disposition any sort of possible unbalanced weight, and even had the audacity to push harder.

Brain, I swear to the fucking gods.

"GETTA LIFE, WHORESYLIS CLIT-RIDER!" Jaeger roared, letting go of his resistance to allow the changeling to push himself off balance, and he stumbled forward. Using the bladed-end of the limb(which is the two wooden pieces that curve out towards the end of the crossbow, built off the barrel for you uncultured swine) he thrust it backwards, the blade penetrating the nape of the changeling, digging into his spinal chord which evidently produced a guttural and degenerated screech and moan of the changeling as they crumpled dead. Tearing it out, he quickly jerked it to release the blood off it, and soon redirected it towards the nearest enemy in his area.

You thought Jaeger wasn't gonna catch the 5 innuendos? Nice joke.

The aforementioned changeling screeched a roar of frustration, slamming his crossbow onto the dirt. "WHY CAN'T I THINK SHIT WITHOUT SEX?"

Because you haven't gotten laid in about seven months, you depraved bug.

Immediately, he slackened himself with hunched soldiers as he spoke in a tone of clarity, "Well dat beats it."

Ignorant to the bleeding body thrown above him to be added to the pile of dead Chrysalis sympathizers, Jaeger looked over his shoulder to Cauli, whom was currently using a body as a meatshield for about three enemies before she had engaged in close-quarters-combat with them. "CAULI!"

"WHAT?" She called back, using an armored hoof to clash with a sword, before using a knife in her other hoof's bracer to flick out with the joint, quickly jabbing it thrice into the changeling's chest before headbutting him into unconsciousness.

"WANT SOME FUCK?"

She had to double-take before taking a haze across the withers from a poorly placed blade, forcing her to buck the poor bastard into oblivion by breaking his jaw and landing him a spot in the Generic Villain Aim hall of fame.

"TAKIN' DAT AS A YES!" He shouted after her lack of response, quickly firing three bolts into one stallion, who actually tanked the shots before he tripped on a rock and jabbed the bolts deeper into him as he had landed on them, killing him instantly on impact. Harumphing in victory, Jaeger had enough time to turn around to see a giant warhammer about to connect with his skull, belonging to that of Queen Chrysalis, who looked very angry.

The office space was modest. One giant window looking out the Badlands, with a single generic Boss Guy desk in front of it, complete with a generic stack of papers, a generic lamp, and that one stupid decorational picture on the wall that had nothing to do with anything but to serve as a change of color on the otherwise bland yellowish-tan wallpaper. A small tag that was barely standing up after years of either being bashed or thrown had enough cheap paint on it to spell out 'FRESH MEAT'. A crimson red pony with a black mane complete with black sunglasses laying on his unkempt black mane stared apathetically at the door.

Who was he waiting for? Find out now.

Jazz, in his usual dapper gear, was sat on a velvet red booth in a private section of the unlabeled establishment. It was clear it was a prostitution joint with the hooker currently sucking his dick off like it was her only way to get mon- it was. The wig, the cheap makeup, the skanky clothing, it was mattered little to Jazz as the amazingly dressed bastard was blind. His black sunglasses titled 'I AM BLIND' in white across the lenses and front frame didn't tell you enough.

His hips twitched slightly as her lips were wrapped around his tip, the velvety texture of her tongue circling as fast as a paraplegic running in the snow around it, the beginning process of saliva build-up occurring. In order to create more stimulation in her mind, she began to move her head with the motion, using her forehooves to massage and move his balls gently and sensually, sensually being in the definition of "I am arousing you. Are you aroused yet? You must be." Jazz's left eyelid twitched, his penis riding high on the whole pleasure meter as his balls created a more stimulating feeling along his scrotum. Feeling bolder, or more routinely, the hooker slowly dipped her head slowly but surely down his dick, her tongue resting on his underside as it went back and forth rhythmically.

The stimulation made the blind stallion rolled his neck to avoid his stoicism faltering with a grunt or a twitch, his sunglasses glaring down at her in a terminator-stare style as he guessed where she would be. The hooker, already knowing he was blind, didn't bother with the theatrics of looking at him in the eyes as "innocently" or as "sexily" as possible, opting to milk his dick for maximum payout. Who wouldn't want to? Easy money for a cripple. Wait, that wasn't PC. She meant.. uh, physically challenged. No. Visually impaired, that's it.

Jazz swallowed, his chest having already been in an anxiety-feeling state of tension, butterflies going on full rampage in his stomach only to infect his chest as well as he felt his heart rate beat faster than usual. The usual symptoms of being filled with lust and the wanton epidemic of release. She was getting there, but not quite. Unbeknownst to him, he had began to dip his head against the cushions, opting to stare blindly at the ceiling, despite once again not having the knowledge of doing so.

The hooker pushed her head deeper down, feeling her gag reflex start to naturally flare as Jazz was bigger than the usual run-of-the-mill lad. She made a mental note in her mind to question him if he exchanged sight for sexual prowess. The rod in her throat throbbed, begging for release as the heat on it grew hotter than usual. Tell-tale sign of the stallion getting closer and closer to his release. To keep the pleasuring assault up, she began to flick her tongue left and right more quickly, as well as remove her warm, moist presence from his dick, sliding out only to stop at the tip.

"Keep that goin' on, an' I might just give ya a tip, 'lil lady." Jazz hummed casually, as if a skilled hooker wasn't giving him one of his top 3 blowjobs in his life, next to that broad in Las Pegasus he managed to swindle as a carpenter pony looking for carpet. He surely had a "carpet" to "munch" on that night.

The meat she left behind was illuminated by her saliva in the booth's shitty light, the black muscles completely untainted by markings or natural marks, a smoothness she'd come to familiarity with in Jazz. The stallion was smooth through and through, so it came to her surprise at her first time that his sexual organ had also reflected that quality of him.

She slid back down, feeling the heat correspondingly hum pleasantly through her tongue, her throat and into her esophagus once more. To give more stimulation, albeit it did nothing unless it was actually in her throat, in this case it was, she moaned sensually, her eyebrows creasing naturally at her hum.

Jazz tapped his hoof, slowly bringing it down towards her mane, the first few centimeters of hoof being lost in her mane, willingly massaging her scalp as she slid herself off his dick and plunged back in. It was physically impossible to swallow the entire thing, as it was nearly impossible to swallow a regular stallion's rod. She probably only reached half-way, maybe three-fifths to his, whereas the usual ones she got three-quarters or miraculously the entire thing on a good day.

She could feel the flare expanding, and for Jazz he could feel his dick's pleasure-o-meter convulsing. Only a minute more of bobbing, and he would be able to leave, she thought. So she did, she bobbed up and down, feeling the dick twitch and heat up in her warm maw, the saliva occasionally being used as a halter in her overdriving assault to spit out or to be spat on the dick for more lubrication, and then to be dove back in for more.

Soon the acute pleasant ring in his dick reached it's magnum opus as the butterflies seized and held firm, his dick twitching upwards once as semen began rushing out in a stream. It struck the back of her throat, while a small waterfall of semen slipped down his flare, continuing consistently for a few seconds before another whiplash hit the back of her tongue and down her esophagus, until the stream stopped with a smaller whip of semen, before slowly being retracted from her mouth, her tongue licking any residue off the tip.

Jazz relaxed into his seat, a very soft exhale escaping his lips as he sprawled himself naturally on the booth, his dick immediately flopping downwards before slowly being wrangled back in by his sheath.

"How much will that cost?" Jazz tilted his head, almost melting like putty against his own shoulder for a pillow.

"Fifty bits."

And he was out of there like a light, without a single bit thrown down for the hooker, who screamed her frustration only to discover like a fucking idiot she forgot to swallow, and had the true audacity (or natural feeling as she is not the brightest of the Brady Bunch) to regurgitate Jazz's semen out into her mouth and onto the red floor, the curtains separating their private session from the rest of the establishment still flapping viscously from how fast his black ass booked it.

And here he was, carrying an unconscious, and seriously wounded Jaeger on his back, bindle-less and clearly dignity-less. You could still see a small droplet of sweat on the side of his face from how fast and far he ran from his previous escapade. Jaeger moaned, his saliva slowly dripping on the back of Jazz, causing him to shake his back and bark at the unconscious Jaeger, "Pull that shit again and I'll throw your half-dead ass out on the curb."

Slowly, The Sightless and The Exile hauled themselves, or the Sightless hauled the Exile for that matter, off towards the road, towards a nearby Badlands city, Bugwater.

"Y'know, for our derogatory term being 'bug', it's amazin' how most of our cities that aren't Chrysalis-reigned or Thorax-reigned are bug puns." Jazz commented, earning a half-conscious moan from Jaeger, who remained uncomfortably propped up on Jazz's back.

Fresh Meat wasn't a happy stallion.

Not at all.

His Generic Villain Desk #1602 had proven victim to his recent frustrations, having been split in half by two hard knocks down the center, sending any paper flying around him or being crushed with the desk. The hooker, who still had some of Jazz's sperm connected to her chin, had reported the evader.

"Self Ins- I mean, Fresh Meat, sir, he booked it 'fore I could stop'im!"

Fresh Meat stared up at her, before nodding, his hooves tapping together angrily, but calmly.

"I'll take care of it."

Author's Note

sorry to those who had read it before it was done, accidentally clicked "publish" instead of "edit" that night and closed out before i realized. here's the final product, unedited as i still need that pre-reader. i went through it as best as i could, so apologies for any pace issues, i will re-go over it again twice to ensure nothing is going unintentionally fast.